Father's Day Reflections: Art (Scud) Jonas, 1923 - 2001

My dad died in mid-December, 2001, at age 78.  I remember a particular moment at his Masonic ceremony when the speaker approached my brother, Mike, and I saying, "You who are now fatherless..."  A new feeling came to me, openness to heaven or the hereafter, best describes it.  A thought of "we are next" went through my mind, also (but Mike is older,so it's probably supposed to be him?).  A closeness to God of a new sort started at that moment.  Thank you for focusing the moment, Masons.  I had a new freedom to see Dad so close to God that I knew how safe we all will be.  Dad was also free to be a larger meaning and memory for so many.  He was one of a kind.

At his 65th birthday party, I asked my Grandma what the day of his birth was like, in a house on Oak Street in Dayton, Ohio.  She replied,  "It was the worst day of my life." The doctor had a shocked, depressed look on his face as he did the home delivery (common in 1923) and immediately took the baby from the room without letting my grandma see him.  "Where is my baby?  What's wrong with my baby?", she asked. " There are problems with the baby and he's probably not going to live long, so it's best that you don't see him," was the reply.  Her mother and grandmother sat with her while the baby in the next room was ignored so he could die of multiple congenital anomalies of face, eyes and left upper extremity.  Since he lived til 2001, I guess you know that he made it.  What a heart ripping experience it was, though, for my grandma, until she got her baby and faced the uncertainty of raising an unusual child in a usual world.

He had crossed eyes, a facial droop, a stump where his left hand was supposed to be and a residual, but useless, dangling remnant of the beginnings of his left thumb.  He had eye surgery and they removed the thumb remnant.  He was left with no lateral gaze, resulting in lots of horizontal head movements, and the facial droop.  He opted throughout his life to reject getting a prosthetic left hand.  I remember, as a child, holding onto his stump while we walked to church.  It worked fine.

His parents decided to move to the country where he would be safe and have room to play.  They thought he was going to be "retarded", but were pleasantly surprised.  His deformities didn't escape the medical myth mill in the neighborhood of his birth.  Young pregnant women in that small area of Dayton were advised to avoid certain behaviors, such as twiddling their thumbs (per my grandma), lest their baby turn out like "Baby Arthur".  He most likely was affected by a first trimester intrauterine virus, not aberrant maternal habits.

He played and laughed and taught the adults how to function with a hand missing.  In school, he played sports, including basketball and baseball.  My aunt noted that, if his gym shoe came to be untied, the visiting fans would stare in amazement at him while he quickly retied the strings, enhancing their appreciation of someone with a disability.  He had buddies and played pranks with them.  When World War II came around, all his buddies signed up to serve in the military.  Dad tried to sign up for both Army and Navy (that's all America had at the time) but was rejected.  He felt disappointed and missed his friends.  He went to college for a semester at Miami of Ohio, but felt out of place to the extent that he withdrew.

He got a job working for Monarch Marking Systems, Inc. doing janitorial and "odd job" work.  He played on their softball and basketball teams.  As they noticed his skills, he got promoted.  He worked loyally for "The Monarch" for 43 years, retiring as their Safety Director.

As a father, he showed intense loyalty.  He attended everything we ever did in church, school, sports,  moving (me to Hershey, PA and Mike from FL to Denver to FL to OH or something like that).  He watched TV nightly with us.  He had a great, contagious laugh, which he used liberally watching "The Three Stooges", "Our Gang", "I Love Lucy", Bob Hope, Milton Berle, Red Skelton, and Jackie Gleason on our black and white TV.  He played church softball and bowled on two town teams.  He later took up golf, which he played until he couldn't walk without a cane.

We had a family vacation yearly at a lake front cottage owned by "The Monarch", swimming, reading comic books, playing cards and occasionally fishing.  He taught us to fish (with worms on a hook) and to row a boat at the lake. We fought over who had to sit in the left rear seat on those trips, since Dad had a habit of spitting out the driver's window.  When you heard him snort a couple times, you'd best be rolling up that left rear window as fast as possible (No, we didn't have air conditioning).

He assisted with the boy scouts and explorer scouts at times, going on the longer camp outs with us.  He had an annual fishing trip with his dad and father-in law (one of whom lived next door to us and the other lived across the street- grandchildren were a bit spoiled) and a neighbor or Uncle Jerry.  They went to Canada and caught tons of fish, which I never ate at that time.  They played Euchre on the trips and at neighborhood gatherings.

Dad was a volunteer fire fighter, as were all the men in Liberty, the town of 75-100 people (counting dogs and cats) where we lived.  Every few years the local fireworks plant would have an explosion and the men would go to protect the other buildings while the explosions continued.  (this was before women became firefighters).  The wives would drink coffee together and wait.  Us kids would stand in the back yard and marvel at the free fireworks show.

Dad was a proud father of our accomplishments and forgiving of our shortcomings, sometimes after an angry comment.  He did have some anger, but he had a big heart for helping others. He helped several people in town get jobs at "The Monarch".  He became a great grandfather for Mike's 3 sons and my 3 sons, who turned out to be the only ones left with the last name Jonas.  He helped to raise his great grandson, who lived across the street in Liberty for a while.  The boy who was almost discarded carried through the family name.

Dad became the Lay Leader in Liberty United Methodist Church until he was too ill to do it.  A large group from the family, the church, the Monarch, Jefferson HS, Liberty, the Masons and folks he had helped or befriended attended his viewing or funeral.  He was my Dad.  I actually feel very Fatherful instead of Fatherless.  The memories and meanings are forever.

Vietnam Service 50 years later: Getting Oriented "in Country"

 

In Vietnam, we couldn't use US Dollars so we were issued Military Payment Certificates (MPC) instead.  We used these for our purchases while "In Country".  We also had a ration card for drinkable alcohol products.  I think it allowed each individual something like 3 cases of beer, 3 to 6 bottles of wine or liquor monthly.  I never drank close to that much.  The ration card, however, didn't apply to individual drink purchases at the officer's club (A plywood hut in Phu Bai for my first 4 months in Vietnam).  Somehow, I didn't save a ration card, but someone reading this will have one to post in the comments.

I had to get a haircut shortly after arrival and noted that all the barbers were Vietnamese locals.  We paid them with the MPC pictured above.  We never had military barbers.  When I was a cadet at West Point, we had local civilians to cut our hair, too.  The Vietnamese barbers used a straight razor to trip the side and back edges.  They also jerked the neck around in a quick surprise maneuver that left me with a painful neck for a week after my first haircut.  I guess that was supposed to loosen something, but it backfired for me.  I didn't let anyone else jerk my neck around when I got haircuts after that.

Somehow, I was assigned to a hooch which had a pilot roommate for 2 or 3 weeks until he went home.  He helped with my orientation to how everything worked.  We had a hooch-maid who did our laundry, cleaned off our boots (we were issued jungle boots in Vietnam)  and cleaned the hooch.  We paid a few dollars weekly in MPC for the service.  

The latrine was across the street, about 5 seats as I recall.  This was important (multiple seats) since the weekly Chloroquine pill that we all took to prevent malaria, caused loose bowels or diarrhea in many of us.  Under each seat was half of a 55 gallon barrel, the contents of which was burned daily, generating black smoke that billowed toward the heavens.  We pilots always knew not to fly through the black smoke, by the way.  The enlisted personnel who burned the human waste daily did not have an enviable job.  I assume that it was rotated, like KP duty, so someone didn't have it as their main job in the war.

There was a urine tube just out the back door of our hooch for faster access and a bunker between our hooch and the next one, in case we needed protection from mortars or rockets.  I was only in the Phu Bai bunker once, which I'll mention in a later post.

We flew support missions six days a week, except during the monsoon season.  Night life consisted of writing letters; reading Stars and Stripes, the military newspaper, letters from home and books; and going to "the (oficers) Club".  At the Club,  we played cards- mostly poker (Bruce Q, Clarkson M, Curt S. -some others whom I don't remember -and I played bridge) and drank a bit.

Vietnam 50 Years Later Post 3. August 1970

 I followed orders and flew to Cam Ranh Bay, reporting to the 18th Engineer Brigade, which sent me to their aviation unit.  I was instructed to meet with someone the next day to get my specific assignment.  In the mean time, they had a cookout and a volleyball game which was a pleasant way to meet some other pilots who flew for the Engineers.  

The next morning, I got the word from a captain in their aviation unit that my assigned unit would be the 45th Engineer Group headquarters, which had an aviation section.  The captain pointed on the map of Vietnam to the location of the Group in Phu Bai (which I was later told meant the "land of the dead ").  "What are those red pins on the map?" I asked.  "Oh, that's where the 45th Engineer Group Aviation Section had been taking fire from the enemy."  I already noticed that there were no such pins in the area around Cam Ranh Bay.  My assignment might be more "engaging" in I Corps where I was headed.  The area of operations of the 45th Engineer Group was I Corps which was the northernmost area of military operations in South Vietnam, extending north to the Demilitarized Zone - DMZ (there was a II, III, and a IV Corps).  

 

I flew from Cam Ranh Bay to Phu Bai that day and reported to Headquarters of the 45th Engineer Group.  Personnel assigned me to the Aviation section and a hooch - Vietnam War slang for a thatched hut or improvised living space- my plywood home for the next several months.

Our Aviation section shortly after my arrival in Phu Bai: Cpt Sherk, Cpt Holland, Cpt. Jonas, Lt Marsh, CW2 Leo Childress, ?, SSG Cooper (L to R standing) Sitting Sp4 L. Kawai, ?, Sp4 Washington, ?, ?, Sp4 M. Metro. 2nd row includes Sgt. Jones, Sp4 Steele, May, (Sorry I don't remember everyont)

Some facts about the 45th Engineer Group:

45th Engineer Group (Construction)

Arrived Vietnam: 8 June 1966
Departed Vietnam: 30 January 1972
Previous Station: Fort Bragg
Authorized Strength
HHC
1966 - 98
1968 - 111
1970 - 111

The 45th Engineer Group was under the 18th Engineer Brigade throughout its service in Vietnam, planning a coordinating the activities of its assigned and attached units. These consisted of construction or other units engaged in the field construction, rehabilitation, or maintenance of facilities in support of the U.S. Army or Air Force operations. The group arrived at Cam Rahn Bay and moved to Dong Ba Thin on 15 July 1966. It relocated to Tuy Hoa on 15 October 1966, moving to Qui Nhon that December. It moved north to the Phu Bai area in February 1968, where it assumed general construction support missions for the I Corps Tactical Zone. The group then remained in the Da Nang area until departing Vietnam. The following engineer battalions served the group one time or another;

14th Engineer Battalion       39th Engineer Battalion
19th Engineer Battalion       84th Engineer Battalion
20th Engineer Battalion      299th Engineer Battalion
27th Engineer Battalion      577th Engineer Battalion
35th Engineer Battalion      589th Engineer Battalion

More later

50 years of Vietnam Memories: Arriving in July 1970

OK, off to Vietnam in July 1970.  That was 50 years ago and I've processed lots of thoughts about the Vietnam Conflict/ War in the interim.  I'm pleased to have served in Vietnam. 

 

My reflections are through a lens of awareness that 58,318 names, including twenty of my West Point classmates, representing those who died as a result of their service in Vietnam, are engraved on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial ("The Wall").  I have an array of books about Vietnam to try to better understand it from multiple perspectives.  Some are enlightening.  Some are troubling.  Some, such as Visions of War, Dreams of Peace -Writings of Women in the Vietnam War, edited by Lynda Van Devanter and Joan A. Furey (poetry) can be gut wrenching.  Here is an excerpt from Mellow on Morphine by Dana Shuster in 1967:

                                  "...Mellow on morphine, he smiles and floats

                                    above the stretcher over which i hover

                                    I snip an annular ligament

                                    and his foot plops unnoticed into the pail,

                                    ....His day was just starting when his hootch disappeared

                                    along with the foot and at least one friend...

                                                                                                                                      

 

In another book In Retrospect, the late Robert McNamara, Secretary of Defense in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations, laments, "This is the book I planned never to write.... I want to put Vietnam in context.          

    We of the Kennedy and Johnson  administrations who participated in the decisions on Vietnam acted according to what we thought were the principles and traditions of this nation.  We made our decisions in light of those values.

    Yet we were wrong, terribly wrong.  We owe it to future generations to explain why."

We arrived in Saigon after a very long flight, the last leg starting in Japan.  As we descended, I noticed what looked like a large section of countryside pockmarked with small bomb craters, which actually were graves in  a huge cemetery, I noticed as the lower altitude afforded a better focus.  Several buses transported the 200 or so Army men who had shared the flight from the landing strip around or across a part of Saigon via a rubber tree plantation to Long Binh where we would get our unit assignments at the Replacement Depot (or something like that- excuse the 50 year old fog).

I remember filing out some forms asking about assignment preferences that would accompany my personnel file and official orders for service in Vietnam to be reviewed as my unit assignment was decided.  I expressed a preference for assignment in an aviation role with an Engineer unit, since I was an officer in the Corps of Engineers.  I then waited in a bar with many other members of my flight school class for the listing of names and assignments as they were posted on a bulletin board.  Several of my fellow pilots were assigned to the !st Cav and we drank a toast to the Cav.  After a short while of wondering, my name showed up on a list as the only one assigned to the 18th Engineer Brigade in Cam Ranh Bay.  I laughed and drank another Budweiser, assuming that I would spend the year with the Engineers based at Cam Ranh Bay, which probably had some level of creature comfort.
  Some US Army pics at Cam Ranh Bay 1970-71

Here are the first pictures I took in Vietnam.  Just getting adjusted.

More later.
 

Wedding in Farmersville

Polly Michael Freeze and Tim Heller, Jefferson 1963 and 1962 alumni, tied the knot in the Farmersville/ Jackson Township Community Center west of Farmersville in a delightful ceremony of commitment.  The bride's sister, Rebecca Michael Jonas, Jefferson 1965, and the groom's son, Chad Heller, stood up with the couple who were wed by an "old country preacher".

A happy group of family and friends shared the event and a wonderful meal afterwards.  Lots of Hellers and Michaels celebrated along with a great group from the Jefferson Class of 1963.  Photos of these folks are included below.

What a great wedding and a great love story for Polly and Tim.

Liberty in Transition

I am thankful that the people in Liberty Church pay attention to their sick and shut-in members.  Mom always appreciated seeing her name in the church weekly bulletin for the Sunday service at which they prayed for her.

Many things in Liberty have changed (Duh!, you might say since I was a Liberty regular from 1946-1968- things should have changed!).  The Liberty Church is still there and still serves as an anchor in many lives, in many ways.  I still follow Paul Westbrook (now living on the farm in West VA) on Facebook, the pastor who married Rebecca and I on December 27, 1969.  He'll be included in the photos that I post on this Dec 27th on Facebook as part of the 50 year celebration.  Liberty Church has meaning that goes on and on in so many ways to so many people.

What can you say about learning to sing "Jesus Loves Me"?  "Jesus Loves the Little Children"?  "One Little Boy Named David"?  I always think of the Liberty Church when I hear or sing those songs.  I distinctly remember the voice of Gladys Alread (Donna and Peggy's Mom) who may have been a Sunday School or Bible School teacher when I was a wee lad.

Clara Weaver, Russell Wolf, Doris Marker- organist for life - were lifelong citizens of Liberty Church.  Frances Wolf- choir director when I was growing up and singing in the choir.  Maxin Weaver and Carlton Weaver, Denny Wolf, Alan Wardlaw and many others sang in the choir over the years.  Jean Ney and Ginger Weaver still are members, decades later.

I can't name all the Wolf's and Weaver's.  The Schenck's (with ten sons) were plentiful.  The Jonas Family was there from the 1920's until Mom (Esther) died last year.  The Strader's, The Lodges, The Spitler's, The Holtzman's, The Stebbin's, The Speidel's (Gladys Alread's parents), The Alread's, The Saul's, The Michael's, The Adam's, The Lodge's, The Weidel's, The Ney's, The Shank's, The Web's, The Longhenry's ("Pete" was still an active member the last I heard), The Marker's, The Whitaker's and many other families made the Liberty Church a key part of their lives.

The pews were jammed for Christmas and Easter like other churches, but also during softball season when you had to attend church to be eligible to play.  It was said at one time that the Liberty Church players were involved in more fights at softball games than any local church (before my time).  Passionate players need prayer, and they got it at Liberty Church.

God blessed us with the Liberty Church which continues to serve Him.  "What a Friend We Have in Jesus".

Jefferson: Our School in Transition

"We love thy memories and pledge our best to thee, Dear Jefferson..." from The Alma Mater

Yes, the great memories of our experiences in the Jefferson School system and our appreciation of the Jefferson culture stay with us for life.  (Not all of us, obviously, but a great many Bronco alumni express these sentiments).

Sometimes we wonder how we can "pledge our best".  Will the school even continue to exist as it gets smaller and smaller with a declining enrollment, defeat of school levies and efforts of parents to take their children to other schools?

This year there are several parents who seek to take 8 square miles of Jefferson Township, about 6 students and more than $400,000 of tax money to connect to the Valley View school district.  The State Board of Education has heard the arguments and will make a decision.  Apparently, Valley View was not supportive of the move, which is usually one requirement for annexation.

Recent articles in the Dayton Daily News about Jefferson reflected on troubles in the administration of the educational aspects of Jefferson.  Two principals were fired and some classes didn't have a qualified teacher at the start of this academic year.  Many alumni have expressed concern and some have met and are organizing to explore the situation and possible solutions.

Ricky Poole and I, both from the Class of 1964 met with Superintendent Dr. Gates on November 14 to express our concerns about the school and to seek clarification about the future.
We've met with Dr. Gates from time to time in the last four years about starting and giving out a scholarship to a senior student after graduation from the Jefferson Township Alumni Association (JTAA), which has now happened three times.  During those meetings we also discussed and received approval from the School Board to use school land for the Bronco Monument and Brick Garden project of the JTAA, which now stand on "Alumni Corner" at the corner of Union Road and Dayton-Farmersville Road.  We also discussed the History Committee of the JTAA and our desire to have each class appoint a class historian to better keep track of the Jefferson "Story" and alumni.  We have received approval to have space in the Doris Marker Memorial Library in the high school to store appropriate Jefferson and alumni memorabilia, such as year books and trophies.  We've been pleased at the responsiveness of Dr. Gates and the School Board to these mutual Jefferson and alumni issues/projects.

Dr. Gates provided his perspective about the current situation regarding the principals and teachers.  Other perspectives obviously exist about Jefferson today.  Teaching standards and contractual obligations and state mandated reporting are elements of the administrative and educational problems that exist at the school.  Students must satisfy state level criteria to graduate.  (As a physician, I might add that all professions are going through intense transitions regarding similar issues that also reflect on certification and licensure and survival of careers and organizations.)  It's a complex set of issues that impact people and "The school we love" (from The Alma Mater).

What can we do to be supportive as alumni?
1.  The school wants to set up a mentoring program to help any students and faculty who might benefit.  We have lots of alumni who are or have been educators and/or educational administrators.  We need at least two volunteers who will work with the school leadership to establish an appropriate program to respond to the need.  We may already have alumni seeking or establishing similar avenues of connection through recent organizational gatherings of Bronco groups.  That's great if it's happening.  Alumni and others in the community may be then asked to volunteer to mentor, tutor or whatever might help Jefferson to regain or salvage the culture of learning and respect that we remember.

2.  Refresh or re-establish the culture of Jefferson that was so meaningful to alumni, faculty and the community through the years.  One idea is to have at least one publication, event, activity or situation occur each month that involves the history of Jefferson and The Bronco Nation.  There are lots of stories that go back to 1836 when our school was founded that are meaningful as Bronco Messages.  Each student may identify with a different aspect of Jefferson history and tradition.  We should allow them to be exposed to many aspects of our culture and how it came about.  Let's sing the Fight Song and Alma Mater together again.  Let's get the celebration of the Annual Alumni Banquet and the celebration of the Mega Reunion to overflow back into the culture of the school.

Remember, too, the JTAA Endowed Scholarship through The Dayton Foundation web site, and remember to honor yourself, your favorite teacher and coach with a Bronco Brick i the Bronco Brick Garden.  Celebrate the Bronco Nation on the Bronco Brick Road!

3.  Reaffirm the connection between the culture of Jefferson Township and Jefferson Local Schools from K through 12.

"Come lift your voices to Jefferson in Song
The school we love, the one among the throng.
Sing of her praises that men everywhere
May know she is great and in her glory share.

We love thy memories and pledge our best to thee
Dear Jefferson, and may we always be
True to thy precepts and honor thy name
With deeds great and true which will win thee fame."

Follow the Jefferson Township Alumni Association on Facebook.

Pat Jonas, Dr. Richard Gates and Rickey Poole