A friend of the Sandusky family dies; Barbara, aged 14, wants to pay her last respects to him by writing a memoir for him, in accordance to Veteran's Day. (Early Pike was a veteran of the Second World War.)
Today, we received some very sad news, and I am still in shock as I think about it.
A friend I had met several years back (two years ago, in fact; I was 12 then) has died; he died yesterday at the age of 85 at the veteran's hospital here in town. He had been a frequent patient for the last few years. He had a lot of health problems.
My friend's name was Early Wellston Pike, and he fought in World War II. HE had been injured in the war (he had been shot by the Japanese), and he came back to the United States after he had been injured.
He had been married, but in 1995, nearly 8 years ago, his wife died of Alzheimer's disease. They had five children. After his wife had died, his health took a steady but dramatic decline; and he eventually ended up in a veteran's home. He died a very lonely and broken man: he had very few friends; most of his friends had since long died. (The sad thing about this story was that his children never even took the time to see him; he hadn't seen them in several years.)
I first met Mr. Pike when I was 12; I had to do a report about someone who fought in a war (any war), and I chose to do my report on a World War II veteran named Early Wellston Pike. He was in his 80's when I met him. At first, I was very intimidated by Mr. Pike because he was very big in size and gruff in temperament, but underneath his tough exterior beat the heart and soul of a hero. a hero who had been injured by enemy gunfire during a bloody battle in wartime Japan. He suffered devastating injuries to his legs and feet, and it was because of this that he had to leave the Air Corps and go back home, where he then went on disability.
Mr. Pike was born in eastern Tennessee--"in the mountains", as he put it--, and he grew up in eastern Tennessee until he left to go into the military. He had married just prior to going in the service, and for several years, his wife fretted and prayed for his safety and to return home. When he finally did come home (earlier than expected, thanks, in part, to his serious injuries), his wife was so relieved to have him back, but she was dismayed at the severity of his injuries. He had nearly been cut in two by enemy fire, and he now required the use of Canadian (Lofstrand) crutches and braces on his shattered legs in order to get around easier (or a wheelchair for longer trips). He went into battle a strong, healthy man; now home back from the service, he was now seriously impaired, and he would never go into battle again. He was an entirely different person altogether.
For many years, the Pikes remained together and raised five children, each leaning on the other for support, but then Mrs. Pike's health started to fail, and she then, ultimately, ended up in a nursing facility where she then died. It wasn't long after the death of his wife when Mr. Pike's own health started a terrifying downward spin, and he ended up in a veteran's hospital. (He would eventually end up there on more than one occasion.)
Mr. Pike was put into a veteran's home prior to getting out of the hospital the one time, where others could look out for him and his well being and provide the care he so desperately needed. But he had turned from a very friendly, outgoing fellow into a cantankerous, bitter old man with a chip on his shoulder who wanted absolutely nothing to do with anyone--or anything. He was angry about all that had happened to him, and he didn't care whether he lived or died.
That was when I had first met Mr. Pike, and in the following months, he and I slowly, but surely, became comfortable with each other; and this was how we became friends. We (meaning my mom, dad, or myself, sometimes another one of my brothers or sisters) would go to the veteran's home every Memorial Day or Veteran's Day, to take food and "cheer" to the veterans that were there, and sometimes we would go on other days--just so we could drop in and say hello to "the forgotten". I remember mom, daddy, or myself going, and it broke my heart to see those people who so valiantly fought for our freedom lying helplessly in beds, with nobody to care for or even pay them a visit. It was as though our country had turned our back on the veterans in the hospitals or veteran's homes, and it broke my heart. Surely, our veterans didn't deserve this, I remember thinking time and time again.
We owed them a lot of thanks and gratitude for fighting for our country, so we could continue to enjoy the freedoms we still do today.
We ended up befriending several of the veterans who were there (more than several, in fact), but Mr. Early Pike was the one who had made the biggest impression on me. I remember he'd always call me "Girlie", "Missy", or even "Maggie-Doodles" (even when I had repeatedly told him that my name was Barbara!), and whenever he would see us, his craggy, weather-worn face would break out into a huge smile, and his dark eyes would sparkle with anticipation and joy. He would give us a big smile, a huge bear hug, or oftentimes, both. I also remember last year, on Veteran's Day, when we'd gone to Golden Corral, which was giving out FREE dinners to ALL veterans, current OR retired; and we saw Mr. Pike there. He had on a big ol' bib tucked into his shirt, and he looked so happy; he was obviously enjoying the attention that everyone was lavishing on not only himself, but ALL of the veterans. I remember that the place was a madhouse, but everyone--workers, customers, AND veterans alike--had smiles on their faces.
That was the last time I had seen Mr. Early Pike alive.
And now, today, I find out that he is dead. He was almost 86; he would have been 86 in a few weeks, just after Thanksgiving.
Tomorrow is Veteran's Day, and this is why I am writing this down. I am crying, and it is hard for me to see what I am trying to write as I do this; but I lost a friend who was a hero in World War II, and I want to remember him and what he did, so we could be free today here in America. My friend bravely gave his life for our country, and he volunteered to go into battle to defend our great nation, so we could remain free. Most people do not remember our veterans, which is a tragic thing, but I choose TO remember. It is because OF them that our flag still waves proudly. It is because OF them that we are a better nation, and also, it is because OF them, our veterans, that we should pause and reflect on the great wars in history, where our veterans fought (or even DIED) and remember the significance of this day called "Veteran's Day"; and remember the great sacrifices they made for OUR freedom by defending our land.
So, Mr. Pike, in accordance to Veteran's Day, I choose to remember you, and you will be sorely missed by all who knew you, but especially by my family and myself. You wre a very incredible human being, and you are a HERO--and will LONG remain one in many years to come.
You are now in Heaven, with Jesus, and also your wife; and you can, once again, run free, and enjoy all the Glories of what Heaven has to offer. You are now a New Creature in Christ Jesus, and you have EARNED your angel's wings.
Thank you, brave sir, for your serving our country, the United States of America, and for your sacrifice. Thank you for your bravery, so we could remain free today. God bless you, sir, and you can BET that on THIS Veteran's Day, I will be on my knees, thanking God and thanking YOU and ALL our veterans for serving our land! I will miss you TERRIBLY, more than you will ever know, and I shall NEVER forget you! Thank you for being my friend; I am a BETTER person for having known you!
I will always love you, and I hope you know just how much you were loved and how much you meant to me. Thank you for your gift of friendship, Mr. Pike!
~In rememberance and in friendship--
Your (sad) friend, Barbara Le-Anne Sandusky, aged 14. >tears<
*~*~*HAPPY VETERAN'S DAY, SIR*~*~*
And a *~*~*HAPPY VETERAN'S DAY*~*~*~* to ALL our veterans who gave their lives so we could be free; and to those currently serving! God bless EACH and EVERY one of our BRAVE veterans! I love you all!
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A delightful story of a needy family of squirrels who are kicked out of their village, because of their tattered clothes and nests.
Abandoned and in search of friends to accept them, they travel many roads of r
Today, we received some very sad news, and I am still in shock as I think about it.
