My Dad passed away very peacefully Friday evening, November 6, 2015, in the consoling company of his family.
He suffered a
number of complications after breaking his leg last December. After some strong
and stable months in the Spring, he succumbed to a severe bone infection and
ultimately, sepsis.
Dad lived a
life filled with the joys of hard work and devotion to his family; enlivened by
Lithuanian wit and humor; and strengthened by an optimistic, American heart.
Like so many of
his countrymen, Dad escaped the fierce advance of Soviet troops through
Lithuania by escaping into Germany and then Austria in the final year of World
War II. In the years immediately after the end of the war, Dad and some of his
immediate family lived as Displaced Persons (DPs) in camps established by the Allies in Germany. It was an atmosphere of chaos, danger, and uncertainty.
Lithuanian and
Polish nationals living in DP camps in the American zone near Frankfurt were
invited by the U.S. Army to apply for support security roles guarding both
German and American assets. Dad enlisted in the Lithuanian canine patrol corps
and was assigned to the U.S. base camp at Kaiserlautern. (That camp would grow
over the years into NATO headquarters. The last photo below shows my Dad in
1948 sharing a laugh with visiting U.S. Army brass. It's my favorite image of
Dad from that time.)
From that post,
Dad observed the start of the Berlin Airlift after the Soviets blockaded that
city. He did nightly patrols around the forest surrounding the camp. His
devoted partner was Arno, a loyal and beautiful German Shepard. Dad checks up
on Arno (at Arno's barracks) in this first photo (from 1947) below. Dad is 19
years old in that photo.
Dad celebrated his
21st birthday by sailing past the Statue of Liberty into New York Harbor aboard
the USS General Hann. In the second photo below, taken just after the immigrants
had disembarked from the ship, you'll see Dad (second from left) with
white hair—encrusted in sea salt as he paced the outer decks. Within hours, Dad
was on a train to Chicago to begin his new life in America under the kind
sponsorship of an uncle who had emigrated from Lithuania in the 1920s.
Shortly after
their arrival, my Dad and his older brother, my late Uncle Ignas, were drafted
for service in the Korean War. The third photo below shows a farewell outing
for Ignas (center) in October, 1950 in Chicago's Grant Park. My Dad stands on
the far left. One year later, Dad was drafted for U.S. Army service at Camp
Irwin in the Mojave desert east of Los Angeles. He served as a tank instructor,
running daredevil maneuvers in the endless sand dunes.
Before President
Truman left office, he determined that foreign nationals who had served in the
Korean conflict were to be granted U.S. citizenship upon their honorable
discharge.
Dad returned to
Chicago in 1953 and worked in manufacturing jobs until his retirement. By 1959,
our family had moved to Melrose Park, where Dad worked for Benjamin Moore and
Co producing paints and stains for the next 35 years. In the penultimate photo,
Dad stands front of our Melrose Park home, circa 1965.
Thank you, Dad, for you service—not only to your adopted country but to your family until the day you breathed your last. We love and miss you more than you could imagine.
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
