KINDNESS

KINDNESS

During World War I (1914-1918) more people died from influenza than were killed in the battlefields of Europe.  One of the worst global epidemics occurred in 1918-1919.  About 20 million persons, including more than 500,000 Americans died in this epidemic.  Many of the people who lived in this area during that terrible year or two have stories that are not pleasant.  Many young men from the lakes region who were in the armed forces died as the result of the flu.

Art Bascom, a long time resident of the area, told me that one of his family had the flu and they were quarantined.  They were not allowed to come into contact with people other than the doctor and nurse that checked up on them from time to time. The telephone was their only communication with the outside world.  They would order food by phone and have it delivered. 

The delivery boy would put the ordered groceries in a box and leave it out on the yard.  After he left Art’s father would go out and bring it back into the house.  The family survived but it was a very isolated life the family had for a period of time and if it hadn’t been for the “acts of kindness” of the visiting nurse and the grocery boy it would have been terrible. There are many other stories of that time of the “flu” epidemic and I am sure some of you readers could relate them.

My Father, Ray LaFoy, was in World War I with the US Army stationed in France in 1918.  His engineer battalion had trained to operate searchlights.  His training was at Washington D.C. but when they arrived in France they had no searchlights so were assigned to the infantry.  The battalion was in several major battles at the front and spent a great deal of time marching hither and yon to various assignments. 

On one of those marches my father came down with the flu and became so weak that he simply dropped out of the line of march.  He was able to get himself to a nearby French farmhouse.  In that farmhouse was an elderly lady who had refused to leave her home even though it was near the front.  She took my father into her home and nursed him back to health.  He remarked many times that if it hadn’t been for that “act of kindness” by that elderly French woman, he doubted if he would have survived the “flu.” 

He returned to his unit after recovery and had to explain that he hadn’t gone AWOL.  He survived the rest of the war although his unit suffered great casualties.  His only injury, not counting the bout with the flu, was tripping and falling down on a pavement in Washington D.C. while marching with a full field pack.  That knee gave him troubles most of his life but he felt himself lucky.

It doesn’t take a great deal of time to extend some kindness to your fellow human beings.  When I grew up in a small town near the Iowa Great Lakes in the 1920s and 1930s that community was one big playground.  As one got older your world expanded and you were able to go from your own house and yard to the roam the neighborhood.  On the street east our house (now N Ave.) and a bit north on that street lived my Mother’s parents, Sam and Georgia Holcomb.  To get there one had to squeeze between two fenceposts on the property back of our garage and then walk across the neighbor’s yard. 

There was an elderly couple (probably the age I am today) who lived there.  Whenever the lady saw me going to my grandparents’ house she would rap on her kitchen window and motion me to come inside.  The first time I thought she was going to give me the dickens for cutting across her garden and lawn but no, she just wanted to talk with me.  Not only did she want to talk but also she gave me several nice cookies and milk.  Even to this day I will never forget her “act of kindness.” 

During World War II in September 1944 I was stationed at an air force base near the city of Kharagapur, India. We serviced B-24Js that carried gasoline over the Himalayas Mountains (Hump) to China. It was the C-109 Provisional Unit.  Don Ogle who was from Spirit Lake and I would get together every so often as he was stationed near the air force base that I was at.  We met in Kharagapur and walked the bazaars, ate at the railroad depot and looked the town over. 

Near the railroad station they were renting bicycles so we rented one each and toured the city.  On the outskirts of the city were many large estates that were set back from the street and obviously homes of the English.  As Don and I were biking we stopped to look at some wirehaired terrier pups in a yard.  A lady observed us looking at the pups and invited us into her home.  Her husband, Colonel Bailey was a civilian and worked for the railroad.  The Baileys were evidently very wealthy as there were servants doing all the work. Mrs. Bailey was a grand lady and she invited us to stay for dinner. 

We went to their home many times for dinner or tea.  One time she had three British soldiers on leave from fighting under General Wingate in the Burma jungles.  Their names were Arthur Bragginton, George Wheeler and Fred Feagon, all from London. We had a grand time and one day they came to visit us at our camp.  It was interesting because Col. and Mrs. Bailey entertained General LeMay, Commander of the 20^th Air Force one evening and the next night Don Ogle and I who were only Private First Class soldiers.  We will never forget that “act of kindness” shown by Mrs. Bailey towards us.  When I was coming home from China after the war was over I went over to see her and again she was so gracious and nice I will never forget her.

Another incident that happened to me while in the army in World War II was when we first stepped off the USS General Brooke troopship at New York harbor.  Several of us were assigned to carry some officer’s baggage off the ship.  We picked up the bags, went down the gangplank and walked over to the side of the shed.  We put the bags down and were going back to the gangplank when we were stopped by one of New York’s finest policeman.

 He yelled, “Hey boys, what is your hurry? Haven’t you had enough time on that ship?’

We stopped, not knowing what he wanted and looked at him with dumb expressions.

“Come on over here and get some coffee and donuts” he said, pointing to a canteen cart which sat along the pier, smiling all the time.

We came back and got some coffee and donuts and chatted with him for some time.  He asked us where we had been, our hometowns and how long had it been since we had been home.  He made us feel real welcome back in the good old USA.  It was a real “act of kindness” that most of us on that detail will never forget.

The following is a story that we picked up from a friend of mine on the Internet entitled, “The Golden Gift.”

“Some time ago, a friend of mine punished his three-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper.  Money was tight, and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, “This is for you Daddy.”  He was embarrassed by his earlier over-reaction but his anger flared up again when he found that the box was empty.

He yelled at her, “Don’t you know that when you give somebody a present there’s supposed to be something inside of it?”

The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, “Oh Daddy, it’s not empty.  I blew kisses into the box.  All for you, Daddy.”

The father was crushed.   He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged her forgiveness.  My friend told me that he kept that gold box by his bed for years.  Whenever he was discouraged he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.”  Author Unknown