So, Dad.
It’s Memorial Day once more.
A reminder of all of the questions left unasked, all of the solutions by no means shared … particularly by a daughter who would someday develop into a journalist.
It wasn’t ack ack or flak or bullets that killed my father, a U.S. Army Air Corps B-24 Liberator gunner bombing a Japanese island once I was born, a battle hero who was awarded the celebrated Distinguished Flying Cross.
Dad survived 4 years of battle solely to succumb to open coronary heart surgical procedure when he was solely 63 years previous, the results of years of smoking cigarettes, emphysema, and utilizing “suspect” fertilizer on one in every of his bountiful gardens abroad.
Although his dying was devastating, it was no shock. My father all the time felt he was dwelling on borrowed time.
Shortly earlier than his remaining surgical procedure, my father requested to speak to my mom alone. He felt he was not going to outlive.
“Dad told me not to waste money on an expensive funeral and mark his grave with what is provided by the U.S. Army,” she stated.
“And if he didn’t make it, I was to be happy and to marry again.”
“But he also wanted me to promise to be buried next to him when I died even if I were to marry again.”
Although Mom finally married once more — and pre-deceased this excellent new husband — she had felt conflicted by her promise to my father earlier than Alzheimer’s lastly laid siege to her thoughts.
So in September 2006, when mom died, we stored her promise to dad together with the blessings of her husband, who additionally was a World War II battle hero.
We disinterred Dad from a cemetery in Georgia and buried him close to Mom in her household’s cemetery plot in Mandan, North Dakota.
Our father’s U.S. Army grave marker/footstone now rests within the shade of a Juniper Tree.
And once I go to, the little U.S. Army flower pot will comprise a pink rose.
It was my mom’s favourite flower.
And proof of a promise not damaged.
Plate hate?
Nope . . . however it certain smells fishy.
• To wit: Sneed got here throughout an image on social media of an Illinois license plate on a crimson Ford studying “Aryan” — together with involved feedback that the plate is perhaps meant to advertise white supremacy.
• The upshot: However, Sneed has realized the Illinois secretary of state’s workplace — which filters out offensive plates — has carried out its due diligence.
• Translation: ”Aryan” is the primary title of the one who registered for the plate.
Runaway Rahm . . .
He’s a travelin’ man!
But his spouse, Amy Rule, is just not far behind.
Although former mayor Rahm Emanuel has made certain his 1,000-mile trek round Lake Michigan — in addition to his legacy — has filtered out in drips and dabs by way of the Emanuel web earlier than he left workplace . . . . Here are a couple of new ideas and twaddle.
• Femme reality: The Rahmster, who was noticed on his bike tour eating on the Red Cup Cafe in Chesterton, Indiana, consuming his favourite: pecan pie, was joined by his spouse, who’s following him in a automobile on the trek, in line with a Chesterton Tribune report.
• Factoid: Yipes! When Emanuel was complimented by the cafe proprietor on his retirement, Emanuel chirped: “More like a divorce from my constituents.”
• Factoid II: Emanuel’s on-the-road learn is the ponderous new guide on the American Revolution by writer Rick Atkinson.
On Rahm’s final day . . .
He . . .
• Swam a mile.
• Lifted weights for 45 minutes.
• Stopped for politically right espresso on the South Shore Brew, a Neighborhood Opportunity Fund grant recipient (natch).
• Took his final journey to City Hall aboard the politically right CTA Brown Line, the place he obtained a number of excessive fives.
• Had his final breakfast Monday with Gov. J.B. Pritzker on the Atwood Cafe.
• Former President Bill Clinton known as E final weekend to inform him he liked the Chicago Stories podcast that includes Bill Kurtis turning the tables on the mayor by interviewing him for the final podcast.
Sneedlings . . .
A calendar date: The annual Printers Row Lit Fest, established in 1985, will rejoice its 35th…