Saturday, July 13, 2013

Love Dad-

As this trek continues it takes a lot of unexpected twists and turns. Two days ago while talking about my discoveries so far I learn or re-learned as it turns out, that my father and I had corresponded through handwritten letters back in 1976 the last being January 1977. How could I have lost that time? I was married, had a 2-year-old son, living in East Point Georgia with a marriage, a job, and a life completely falling apart. Maybe why I blocked that time out of my head.. Got married when I was 17 and here I was just 20 with my entire world crashing down on me.

Why I reached out to my father who for all practical purposes was a stranger to me I couldn't say. He was in California and we hadn't seen each other since I was a little kid and I was in Georgia trying to keep my life together and failing. The letter writing between us I had forgotten about and considering what all I was going through in my life at the time blocking that part out was probably understandable. 




I have 4 hand written, 3 to 4 page letters from my father. Inside those four envelopes are some of the answers to questions I've had for decades and wouldn't have had to ask if I had been paying attention to the important things in life. Perhaps if I had been focusing on the right things I wouldn't have lost my marriage, my family, and the only life I knew. But for some reason, I wrote to my father, the man I never really knew, and he responded with care and concern both for me and my wife and son that he never met. It's all there, written in his hand, and unmistakable.

He started out each of the four letters I have telling me how happy he was to get mine and saying we should keep writing and asking about my health and that of my little family. My father had a massive heart attack and lived through it in 1973 and at the time of our writing back and forth I knew nothing about it. By asking about my health and that of my wife and son this man I only knew by name was sending his care and concern the only way he knew how. He was teaching me about what the important things in life were. (health and family) I'll likely not forgive myself for not acknowledging the love he was offering in his own way and I regret not saying something-

My father retired from the Navy after 30 years of service in 1972 and in 73 when he had his heart attack he spent 30 days in the hospital. He spent the next 3 years working with his brother in construction just to pay off his hospital bills that weren't covered by his service. This doesn't surprise me at all because my mom is that way too always paying her own way. 
He bowled on Tuesday and Thursday nights in a league and had a 152 point average. He golfed on those days in the mornings and said he wasn't very good but he enjoyed it. In most of those letters, he asked for pictures of myself and my family and voiced concern because I had apparently mentioned my troubled marriage. Ironically he told me "divorce can only hurt one person, your son.." How "unfair it would be to him," is how he put it. Oh was he ever right and wrong all at the same time as my divorce came extremely close to killing me as well- 

The father I never really knew was trying to get to know me the only way he knew how and encouraging me to keep my family together If I could something he wasn't able to do himself. 

One interesting thing that I will never in my life get to experience is calling someone Dad. How odd it is that for years that was insignificant to me and how sad it makes me today as old as I am. His fatal heart attack was many years ago and I remember being told but not who it was that told me. My memory is that I was angrier than sad and then sad beyond what I wanted anyone to know. I took great pains in making out like it was just the death of a stranger and not a huge thing. It was and is to this very second writing this, a huge thing. His letters to me as I read them today are filled with clues that I see that he cared about me and how I was. At the time it didn't seem to mean much and all these years later it means the world.

Even though I will never be able to call someone Dad, it was how my father signed each letter to me that I still have. He got to say it and I'm happy he felt that is who he was to me. I'll see you one day again and we will know each other and all will be alright. 




Tuesday, July 9, 2013

#6213015 - Harry N. Zukerman CPO E8, USS Coral Sea HC1

After three to four decades of on and off again searches and questions, an email from a complete stranger put a few missing pieces into the puzzle.

"zuke's gooks, USS Coral Sea. HC1 crew member. Flew with your dad." 

This was the simple message that popped up on the screen. In my mom's living room as she was talking to me I look down and this msg stared back at me. Fixated and in shock I began to write to this man who had just opened a space in my soul.  

Mr Owen I said, are you saying that you knew my father? I wrote back without saying a word to my mom. 

"yes I flew with him from July 1967 to April 1968 off the coast of Vietnam."

Flushed with all sorts of emotions I carefully constructed something to tell my mom who I have purposely kept from knowing throughout the years that I wanted to know about the other side of who I had become. Don't know why I kept that to myself but it's part of who I became, closed off.

I sent Mr Owen my phone number and waited.. My phone rang and I could see it was an area code in California but I wasn't ready. This was going to be an emotional thing for me and one of the secrets closed off people like me try to keep out of site is our deepest held feelings. 

I came home and wrote out a long thing with some questions and decided the next day I would call Mr Owen and get this started. 

A three and a half hour conversation ensued the next day with a man who helped me put together "the image of my father." Strange as it may seem the similarities between the father and the son who only met once or twice many decades ago was like looking in the mirror and seeing him instead of me.  

There are people now to contact and more information to be had, and then there will likely be the question at the end of, OK now what? This all will only matter to me and to what end I don't have a clue. 

Already I know I think I would have liked this guy my father, and this is how Mr Owen put it to me: 


"I can tell you that I would not be alive today if it was not for your dad. He made sure his men were taken care of. I know nothing about his family life. I search the Internet for guys that I deployed with to Vietnam. My search came up with your name and the picture of the Chief with his dog. I recognize his face. I read your blog and there were things in there that only a person that was deployed with your Dad in HC 1 would know. I can tell you he was a no-nonsense person and he called everyone a Son Of A Bitch.. You did not want to get on his bad side. He would get in your shit but he loved us. We use to say that the Chief was in the Navy so long he was a cabin boy on Noah's Ark."

"We saw the Chief as our father figure. He would do anything for us."

Thank you from the bottom of my heart and sanity Mr Owen, the journey for me will continue-


Thursday, February 21, 2013

where


Like the shattered glass that can never become whole again. I can't get my mind away from searching for where you rest- I forgive you yet can't forgive myself... Wasted time. We could have laughed some. Maybe found common ground. Who knows you might have liked me. Maybe taught me how to like myself. My soul will never heal. My heart aches for what feels like will be an eternity. How can I find a way to forgive myself and be OK. Damaged. Where can I find peace- I need to know where you rest. 

Sunday, January 13, 2013

When will it end.

More and more these days as I get older and have less to do, I think about the image of my father in many ways. Not just the photo I have here on my desk, but the time that is going by for any hope that I might find a shipmate of his or a family member who might tell me who he was, how he lived, and where he is buried- Before I die I feel I have to find someone, or his gravesite, and do some personal soul purging. Tonight I wrote to a memorial website for those who served on the USS Coral Sea in hopes that he by some miracle, could push me in the right direction. I'm not quite sure why this has become so important for me to do, but it has and I try not to question it much. Not sure I can add a link in this post to a very poor video that was put together by a sailor on board the ship in 1989. How weird for me during this terrible video to get as emotional as I do thinking that my father probably walked through this ship and saw the same things I'm seeing in this video. The flight deck that I know he walked on for years and when I see it I wonder like a little kid if my father walked over any spot I'm seeing. How bizarre for a man of my age to get emotional all these years after my father died not knowing anything about me, and yet I would give the rest of my time on earth to get one solid day with him-

VIDEO