WOW!!! My Dad was one who didn't talk about his WWII time in the ski patrol in Italy except to tell us how gorgeous the Italian Alps and lake Como were. He had many slides that unfortunately were destroyed in the flood in our basement, but I have vivid memories of their grainy images of the Italian scenery. This is such a precious item to have and you are so lucky to still have it. Thank you for sharing this keepsake story with us.
My brother has or had his parka from the ski patrol - pure white out white ... I have other keepsakes of his that I treasure. When we lost the slides we also lost his skis. I will never understand how they moved on these huge heavy planks of wood. I have no idea what memories he had but he never took any of us skiing. My siblings lived in Scandinavia for awhile and did a lot of cross country skiing.
Such a beautifully written story of the strength of the human spirit through incredible adversity. That you were able to get those silk maps is mind boggling. Thank you for sharing. Your dad sounds like such a fun-loving guy as was mine. In fact, mine served us five kids bowls of ice cream while we sat on top of the family station wagon in the garage watching thunderstorms. What it is about the ice cream…
"happy days with my beaming father, who never got over the amazing good fortune of being alive to share something delicious with the people he loved."
This whole thing reminds me so much of my sweet grandfather, who was in WW2 in the pacific and hated to speak of that time. I don't know exactly what traumas he encountered there, but I do know how grateful he was for his domestic life upon returning, such a loving and lovely man. He too relished ice cream (always vanilla!) most of all. My uncle saved the last carton of Breyers that he ate from before dying in his 80s-it held a special place on his mantle for a long time.
Thank you so much for sharing this delightful story of your father. And of his time flying over Germany and France on bombing raids. To complete research on my novel, A Cup of Redemption, I flew to France twice to support and write about some of the WWII Army veterans who made the “Second Landings” on the beaches of southern France. I spent ten days each trip to travel with them on their “Liberation Tour” up the Rhône River to Strasbourg, as they were each honored and feted for their contribution to their collective freedom. “We will never forget!” all the mayors would say at each village en route. “We will never forget the gift of liberty that you gave us (65 and or 70) years ago! You, as young men, came to a country you didn’t know and fought for us, they would say with tears streaming down their faces. We will never forget your sacrifice.” Our men, in their 80s by then, stood tall but humble! “ We didn’t do this for glory,” they would tell me aside. “We were so young and we were just trying to stay alive!” I share this with you so you can know that your father would have been treated the same way, with honor and dignity for the gift he gave of his honorable service, not just to the U.S. but to the world. Bless him, and bless his black ice cream bowl!
Loved the story, Linda. My heart clenched when you saved that precious bowl from the microwave. I know the feeling. No bowl in my scenario, but that gut-wrenching fear of losing something so meaningful to someone you loved, is one I’m fortunate to know.
PS I love melamine💜. Something about the lightness and the smoothness. I’m not really sure…it just feels yummy.
Thanks for your comment. It is funny that such a small little bowl could hold so many memories. My husband never understands why I protect it like a angel guard. But you understand that feeling. Melamine memories.
Oh my, that was a delightful story! Even with the subtext of WWII, I felt the optimism of your father and his enthusiasm for life. Being an ice cream person as well, I know the importance of the one and only particular dish (in my case it's a glass) my ice cream can be served in!
My dad served in the Army Corps of Engineers in Japan near the end of WWII. When I was growing up, he also had ice cream (most often vanilla) every night! In fact, he still to this day at age 96 has ice cream almost daily. It’s so interesting to think about why this pattern pops up—did it have to do with being raised during the Depression? Or maybe it’s just that ice cream tastes so very good?
Maybe the depression did have something to do with our parents and ice cream. It was such a treat for them. Enjoy your dad’s treat. He’s so fortunate to have that much ice cream in a long life.
To my father it did hold diamonds. He just enjoyed life’s little pleasures. And to get back a map from Denmark nearly eighty years after my father gave it to o a fisherman - just amazing. It’s a treasure.
Such a wonderful story about one of those who gave of himself for his country. It brought back many memories of my own dad who was also a pilot and navigator in the Pacific during WWII. They truly were the greatest generation. Tonight, I'll have to have a bowl of ice cream in their honor. Thanks for sharing his story.
I’m so happy to meet another child of a WWII pilot. I’m still in contact with a pilot who trained with my father in 1942. He’s going to be 103 in March. Flew from England like my dad. A wonderful story about his life called Damn Lucky was released a few years ago. Do you know when your dad was in pilot training? Thanks for connecting.
Love it. I am happy he was able to come back from what he endured in the POW camp. Comeback he did.... I love photos from the 1950s -- also my birth era. :-)
I can't imagine what it was like in the POW camp. Hunger, fear, especially in the last few months as the prisoners were marched through the snow from January 27 to February 3 to another camp that now held 100,000 POWs. But the joy of the release day in April must have been something. I will be writing more about my father's POW experience soon.
Thank you for reading. A small little bowl with so many memories and carrying the wishes of a former POW. I'm having some ice cream to celebrate my dad today.
A "cool" way to describe a memory that lingers long after the ice cream melts. I enjoy historical nonfiction and this is right at the top of the list for keep things. Thanks for putting this together! ☺️🍧
I love that a “memory lingers after the ice cream melts.” So true. And a delightful way to phrase that experience. Look for the other WWII stories of my father. I’ll be posting more as this is the 80th year from the POW release.
I love stories from the WWII era and the men and women who fought for us. Can any of us who didn't live through something like your dad imagine that a simple pleasure, such as eating ice cream, would take on so much meaning? Your story about your dad's ice cream bowl gave us that. It makes one appreciate the small things in life and not take anything for granted.
WOW!!! My Dad was one who didn't talk about his WWII time in the ski patrol in Italy except to tell us how gorgeous the Italian Alps and lake Como were. He had many slides that unfortunately were destroyed in the flood in our basement, but I have vivid memories of their grainy images of the Italian scenery. This is such a precious item to have and you are so lucky to still have it. Thank you for sharing this keepsake story with us.
So many of the men never spoke about the war. How they kept such a positive spirit. Have a bit of ice cream today in memory of dads.
My brother has or had his parka from the ski patrol - pure white out white ... I have other keepsakes of his that I treasure. When we lost the slides we also lost his skis. I will never understand how they moved on these huge heavy planks of wood. I have no idea what memories he had but he never took any of us skiing. My siblings lived in Scandinavia for awhile and did a lot of cross country skiing.
If you haven't already read it, you'll probably also enjoy this story: https://open.substack.com/pub/thekeepthings/p/keys-to-waterville?r=k86rn&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=false
Such a beautifully written story of the strength of the human spirit through incredible adversity. That you were able to get those silk maps is mind boggling. Thank you for sharing. Your dad sounds like such a fun-loving guy as was mine. In fact, mine served us five kids bowls of ice cream while we sat on top of the family station wagon in the garage watching thunderstorms. What it is about the ice cream…
That’s great. We also sat on top of the station wagon. Have a bit of ice cream today in honor of fun dads.
How funny is that. Cheers! Ice cream bowl clink! 🤣
I loved to watch thunderstorms with my dad. Ice cream would have made it even better ❤️
Aww love that. I think that’s why I love thunderstorms to this day.
"happy days with my beaming father, who never got over the amazing good fortune of being alive to share something delicious with the people he loved."
This whole thing reminds me so much of my sweet grandfather, who was in WW2 in the pacific and hated to speak of that time. I don't know exactly what traumas he encountered there, but I do know how grateful he was for his domestic life upon returning, such a loving and lovely man. He too relished ice cream (always vanilla!) most of all. My uncle saved the last carton of Breyers that he ate from before dying in his 80s-it held a special place on his mantle for a long time.
Oh my heart, the Breyers carton on the mantle ❤️💔❤️
Oh wow so great to hear of your grandfather. They enjoyed the simple gifts of life.
Thank you so much for sharing this delightful story of your father. And of his time flying over Germany and France on bombing raids. To complete research on my novel, A Cup of Redemption, I flew to France twice to support and write about some of the WWII Army veterans who made the “Second Landings” on the beaches of southern France. I spent ten days each trip to travel with them on their “Liberation Tour” up the Rhône River to Strasbourg, as they were each honored and feted for their contribution to their collective freedom. “We will never forget!” all the mayors would say at each village en route. “We will never forget the gift of liberty that you gave us (65 and or 70) years ago! You, as young men, came to a country you didn’t know and fought for us, they would say with tears streaming down their faces. We will never forget your sacrifice.” Our men, in their 80s by then, stood tall but humble! “ We didn’t do this for glory,” they would tell me aside. “We were so young and we were just trying to stay alive!” I share this with you so you can know that your father would have been treated the same way, with honor and dignity for the gift he gave of his honorable service, not just to the U.S. but to the world. Bless him, and bless his black ice cream bowl!
Oh! Linda's beautiful story makes me cry, and now your wonderful comment does too! Thank you for reading 💓
Oh so kind of you to share this. Thinking of my father. May we never forget their sacrifice and their service.
Loved the story, Linda. My heart clenched when you saved that precious bowl from the microwave. I know the feeling. No bowl in my scenario, but that gut-wrenching fear of losing something so meaningful to someone you loved, is one I’m fortunate to know.
PS I love melamine💜. Something about the lightness and the smoothness. I’m not really sure…it just feels yummy.
Thanks for your comment. It is funny that such a small little bowl could hold so many memories. My husband never understands why I protect it like a angel guard. But you understand that feeling. Melamine memories.
Oh my, that was a delightful story! Even with the subtext of WWII, I felt the optimism of your father and his enthusiasm for life. Being an ice cream person as well, I know the importance of the one and only particular dish (in my case it's a glass) my ice cream can be served in!
It’s amazing how the little things can be so special. A bit of ice cream and cheerfulness goes a long way thanks for reading.
❤️
A bowl like the night sky. Lovely.
How did I not make that connection? Like the sky he lifted his children to touch ❤️
Like the sky he fell out of into captivity.
How beautiful!
Fran, feel free to share.
It truly is 💓
Thank you for sharing your story- your dad sounded amazing.
Thank you for reading. Pretty amazing to still have such positive attitude.
thank you for reading 💓
My dad served in the Army Corps of Engineers in Japan near the end of WWII. When I was growing up, he also had ice cream (most often vanilla) every night! In fact, he still to this day at age 96 has ice cream almost daily. It’s so interesting to think about why this pattern pops up—did it have to do with being raised during the Depression? Or maybe it’s just that ice cream tastes so very good?
Maybe the depression did have something to do with our parents and ice cream. It was such a treat for them. Enjoy your dad’s treat. He’s so fortunate to have that much ice cream in a long life.
"sorry, so sorry" ... "like it held diamonds"
And, the MAPS. Amazing.
Thank you, Linda!
To my father it did hold diamonds. He just enjoyed life’s little pleasures. And to get back a map from Denmark nearly eighty years after my father gave it to o a fisherman - just amazing. It’s a treasure.
Such a wonderful story about one of those who gave of himself for his country. It brought back many memories of my own dad who was also a pilot and navigator in the Pacific during WWII. They truly were the greatest generation. Tonight, I'll have to have a bowl of ice cream in their honor. Thanks for sharing his story.
I’m so happy to meet another child of a WWII pilot. I’m still in contact with a pilot who trained with my father in 1942. He’s going to be 103 in March. Flew from England like my dad. A wonderful story about his life called Damn Lucky was released a few years ago. Do you know when your dad was in pilot training? Thanks for connecting.
Love it. I am happy he was able to come back from what he endured in the POW camp. Comeback he did.... I love photos from the 1950s -- also my birth era. :-)
I can't imagine what it was like in the POW camp. Hunger, fear, especially in the last few months as the prisoners were marched through the snow from January 27 to February 3 to another camp that now held 100,000 POWs. But the joy of the release day in April must have been something. I will be writing more about my father's POW experience soon.
What an amazing story!!! I love this little bowl and what it represents. Precious.
Thank you for reading. A small little bowl with so many memories and carrying the wishes of a former POW. I'm having some ice cream to celebrate my dad today.
A "cool" way to describe a memory that lingers long after the ice cream melts. I enjoy historical nonfiction and this is right at the top of the list for keep things. Thanks for putting this together! ☺️🍧
I love that a “memory lingers after the ice cream melts.” So true. And a delightful way to phrase that experience. Look for the other WWII stories of my father. I’ll be posting more as this is the 80th year from the POW release.
I love stories from the WWII era and the men and women who fought for us. Can any of us who didn't live through something like your dad imagine that a simple pleasure, such as eating ice cream, would take on so much meaning? Your story about your dad's ice cream bowl gave us that. It makes one appreciate the small things in life and not take anything for granted.
The small things mean everything don’t they? A simple dish of ice cream was the taste of freedom. Thank you for reading and your comment.
Yes, the sure do.