Learning about your past takes knowledge, interaction

By JOHN McCALLUM

Editor

I was blessed with parents who were active, strong and engaged readers and who encouraged the development and refinement of that trait in their children. That’s where my love of history started.

But it was more than just reading.

My father served in the Pacific Theatre during World War II. His father, my grandfather, was a chaplain during the war in the South Pacific, beginning with being a part of the Army’s 25th Infantry Division that relieved U.S. Marines at a lovely, tropical getaway called Guadalcanal.

Granddad never talked about that to me, and just a little bit more to dad. If you want to learn about Guadalcanal, watch the 1998 movie “The Thin Red Line,” or better yet, read James Jones’ 1962 novel.

Dad was a lieutenant/junior grade aboard a destroyer escort, the U.S.S. Kenneth M. Willett, DE-354. The DE was a hybrid built especially for WWII as a convoy escort so that the larger, faster and more heavily armed destroyers could provide the same role for the battle groups.

If you want to read about the DE, check out Edward P. Stafford’s 1984 novel “Little Ship, Big War,” or James D. Hornfischer’s 2004 book “The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors.”

The Willett was a good ship, and while they saw some action, they survived the war unscathed. Dad was proud of his ship and the Navy it was a part of, and passed that along to his oldest son.

One of the first books I checked out at the Enid, Oklahoma public library was “Carrier War in the Pacific.” I was in the third-grade, and eventually I came to know more about the battles at the Coral Sea, Midway, Marianas and other places than many adults.

One of the first books I ever owned, “Clear for Action,” soon followed, a Christmas present from dad and granddad. More books came, including on other historical topics, and my love of the subject was sealed.

But something else helped that love. One day wandering in a hardware store, I came upon the “model” section.

The various sized boxes with their pictures of planes, ships, tanks and other vehicles in dramatic action poses grabbed my attention and I asked dad if I could get one.

Dad explained what “getting one,” meant; i.e. “assembly required.”

You had to work for it, and if you wanted it to look authentic, you had to devote the time and attention to detail. I wasn’t quite there yet, especially when it came to financing “getting one.”

But dad was very receptive to the idea of model building, so to get me started, we improvised. One summer day we went to the library and checked out the appropriate volume of “Jane’s Fighting Ships,” found the reference for the John C. Butler-class of destroyer escort, of which the Willett was one, and traced with pencil and paper as best as possible the various views of the vessel.

On the way home, we stopped at the local lumberyard, which kept a large box of free scrap wood for anyone’s use, and grabbed some wood. Once home, using a coping saw, hammer, nails and glue we built a rough, but respectable replica of the Willett.

Other ships followed, now built by myself. Once I began earning money through chores such as mowing the lawn, and a little golf ball side business (some other time), I began a “modeling career” that allowed me to touch history and at times, through a very active kid’s imagination, re-enact history.

What’s my point in all this? If you’ve read this week’s story on Cheney’s Historical Preservation commission meeting you might have an idea.

Developing an appreciation for history requires several things. First, you need supportive parents engaged in learning.

Second, you need a personal linkage. Reading about WWII was important to me because I knew two people who were actively involved in that history.

Three, you need somehow to touch it, to experience it. That is still effective with me today, even though I have long ceased building models.

Our roots, personal and societal, are why we are where we are today. It’s what we build on, like it or not, and it’s important that we maintain a connection — one way or another.

John McCallum can be reached at [email protected].