Remembering Lt. Davidson’s Crew on Memorial Day

                                           Lt. Davidson’s Crew Paid the Ultimate Sacrifice

Memorial Day advertisements usually highlight food for a cook-out or a picnic. Some businesses feature items for having fun at the lake or enjoying activities after a backyard BBQ.

                As I thought of the purpose of Decoration Day, as my grandparents always referred to it, I reflected it originated to honor the Civil War dead. Recalling those who gave the ultimate sacrifice seemed a proper way to observe part of the Memorial Day, the name given it in 1967.

                 I thought of Charles Peterson, the ball turret gunner, one of the ten-man crew who flew the mighty B-17F across the Atlantic Ocean. Target for Tonight was the B-17 Flying Fortress flown by Fred Rabo, their pilot, with Dad, Peterson, and the others, most under the age of 25 when it traversed the Pond. 

The photo of Dad and Charles Peterson was cropped
from the initial crew photograph characteristically
 taken just before the crew's inaugural mission. 
This crew photo was taken in November of 1942.
Charles Peterson was 23 years old.

                Then as Dad might say, “Peterson’s name was called to go with another flight crew.” Following is Dad’s recollection of that flight as it appeared in his World War II memoirs, Okie Over Europe.

Charles Peterson, the ball turret gunner on Edmund’s original crew that crossed the Atlantic Ocean in Target for Tonight, flew with a different crew on a combat mission piloted by Captain William K. Davidson on February 4, 1943, to Hamm, Germany. Peterson was flying one of the waist gunner positions on this mission. This was a fateful reassignment for him since he had been manning the ball turret guns on all the missions Edmund had flown. Their plane went down and the entire crew was lost. Initially this crew’s status was “missing in action.”  Soon this changed to “KIA” or “killed in action.” This was the first man from Edmund’s original crew to be killed.

Edmund’s crew had served with Charles Peterson since they had begun training in the desert at Muroc, California.  They had lived in the same barracks, had eaten at the same mess hall, and flown ten successful combat missions together. There was a momentary shock in their quarters upon hearing that his plane was missing.  Almost immediately their reaction to this unnerving news gave way to the realization that their comrade was not coming back and would be replaced the next day.  Edmund and his fellow airmen quickly became battle-hardened to retain sanity, courage, and the resolution to keep boarding the Flying Fortresses for future missions.  Charles Peterson’s unused bunk was a visible reminder of the fragility of life and the improbability of survival for B-17 crewmen. The remaining men in the barracks steeled themselves that evening to the unoccupied bunk’s conspicuousness and its haunting, yet deafening whisper to them.

                A mysterious photo was in the military album Angie, my sister, created for Dad. When we looked at the photo, Dad indicated the airman was killed in action. This week before Memorial Day, I looked at the back of the photo and read these words written by Dad: “On 1^st Lt. Davidson’s Crew; Lost Entire Crew Feb. 4, 1943; Plane #25060.”

As I revisited the doomed mission of February 4, 1943, I researched briefly the other nine members on Plane 25060 hoping to discover which of the crewmen was in the unidentified portrait in Dad’s collection. I was able to locate photos of most of the men who went down in the North Sea off the coast of the Netherlands that February day. Their names were engraved on the Tablets of the Missing in the Cambridge American Cemetery and Memorial in Cambridge, England.

Dad’s well-worn book, The 305^th Bomb Group in Action – an Anthology, had a listing of the missing crews. The Davidson crew was among some the first listed.  One of the crewmen was Staff Sergeant Kermit R. Plaskett, the flight engineer, on that doomed flight. He flew the same position as Dad. On the www.findagrave.com site, Plaskett’s military portrait, even though he had a serious expression, resembled the features of Dad's unidentified photo. Mother and I agreed that this unidentified portrait must be of this young man.

Staff Sergeant Kermit R. Plaskett - the 
unidentified photograph; Dad was also the 
flight engineer/upper turret gunner. Plaskett
was from a rural community, too but in 
Jolon, Californina, about 150 miles south of 
San Francisco. He was only 24 years old 
when he made the ultimate sacrifice.

May we never forget but always choose to remember the sacrifices paid by young Americans and their families over the centuries. Jesus Himself spoke these poignant words in His final hours with His disciples before His arrest, Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends. (John 15:13). Paul encouraged the Christians in Galatia with these words revealing the sacrifice of Jesus:

Grace to you and peace from God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for our sins, that He might deliver us from this present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.

The Death of a Horse at the Belford School

           Mamie Irene Tripp, my grandmother, along with her mother, stepfather, and siblings were living in the Big Bend community west of Ralston, Oklahoma. (To view a photograph of her mother and stepfather, click https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2020/12/an-unlikely-marriage-on-december-13-1900.html) My grandmother and her family were living near where my parents’ farm is now located. (For more explanation as to where Mamie and her family lived, go to https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/03/calamity-in-tent.html)

           Even in the early 1900s, there were two separate rural schools in the Big Bend. The school called Belford was located on the east side of the Big Bend. Greg and Vonda Goad now own the land on which the first Belford School building was constructed. The other school called Woodland was found on the western side of the Big Bend community. Incidentally, the community received its name because of the large bend made by the Arkansas River.              

The First Belford School is obvious in this photograph of
Greg and Vonda Goad's home.

Greg and Vonda Goad's renovation and addition to the first
Belford School. This place was owned by Bernard and Mabel
(Snow) Lynn prior to the acquisition by the Goads.

The location of the first Belford School as seen from Big
Bend Road just after exiting from the west off the Belford
 Bridge spanning the Arkansas River.

             Mamie and her sister Cora attended Belford School. Around 1910-1911, Mamie was being courted by my grandfather, Edmund Gates, Sr. He provided her a horse – a saddle horse, not a work horse – to ride from the Deal place where Mamie’s family lived to the Belford School.  My grandmother, always conscientious about whatever she did, securely tied the horse as soon as she dismounted. I can only imagine her horror when she emerged from a day of diligent studying to find somehow the horse had managed to choke itself to death. Grandmother probably could hardly see her feet through her tears as she trudged to her home. As sensitive as she was, she must have agonized as she walked the couple of miles attempting to find words to tell her beau, my grandfather, the catastrophe that had occurred at school that day. According to the account my father related to me, Edmund, Sr. simply went to the school and began digging until he dug a hole large enough to bury the horse right on the school grounds since he had no other way to move it.  He then rolled the horse into the hole and covered it up. That’s how a horse came to be buried on the school grounds.

           Many people in the early 20^th century viewed education as a waste for young women, but apparently, not my grandfather. His provision of the saddle horse for my grandmother, his girlfriend, would have been like a car being provided today. That allows one to see the magnitude of my grandfather’s gift of the saddle horse as well as the great loss experienced when it accidentally choked to death. The loss in today’s terms would have been equivalent to totaling a good car! There was more to their relationship than material stuff since their marriage lasted over 50 years!

          I must retell how my brother-in-law challenged my sister by telling her she was so smart she needed to enroll in college. He said, "If you go, I will buy you a car!" Angie took Ben up, enrolled in Oklahoma State University. He bought the car, she completed the degree in three years, and they celebrate their wedding anniversary on May 28th! How similar to Grandpa Gates supporting Grandma's education! Thankfully, Angie

had a better outcome than Grandma. She only had a fender bender during her years of commuting.

Angie in her new Ford Escort that Ben bought 
when she accepted his challenge to enroll at 
Oklahoma State University. She commuted for
the nine semesters it took to complete her
 degree in business. A short time after her 
graduation, the car  began having problems
that could never be solved, but as Dad would
say, "It was a dandy on gas!" for the hundreds 
of trips Angie made to Stillwater.

Musings on a May Morning

        The beautiful early sunrises in May transcended all other times of day for checking cattle. At the top of the morning as I observed the cattle, I thought These animals are doing exactly what God created them to do. But as I compared humans, what a difference! I recalled the phrase from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthian believers in chapter 10, verse 31, “…whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”

        As I walked among the cattle in the pasture hoping to see the cow-calf pair I hadn’t glimpse the previous day, a fragrance hit my nose with an unbelievable perfumed odor. Nearby was a blackberry bush with delicate blossoms whose wonderful fragrance defied description. Upon returning to the house, I couldn’t dislodge that sweet-smelling scent from my memory. I turned to a verse comparing Christ to the unimaginably aromatic experience. Paul wrote to the believers of Ephesus this admonition, "…Walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma." (Ephesians 5:2).

The fragrant blackberry blossoms I sniffed. Usually
blackberry bushes are despised in pastures.

          Walking into the yard, I spotted Maskie Muff, a fluffy black and white cat. That early May morning, I scooped him up to give him a morning greeting. Often Maskie will look right into my eyes, but this morning he was focused on my glove. Even though, I never feed him by hand, he knew my hand dispenses the food.

When I call Maskie the best cat on the hill in my
sister’s presence, she tells the other farm cats,
"Cover your ears.” Maskie Muff endeared himself
to me when one of his paws was injured, requiring a
 little more attention, rendering him a rather tame cat.

       The fluffy black and white cat mirrored the people dogging Jesus in John 6. Jesus had fed miraculously a huge number of people. The next day, the same people were seeking Jesus. Jesus, who knew all hearts and minds, said to them, “…You seek Me, …because you ate of the loaves and were filled.” 

        Much like Maskie, the people looked at Jesus for what His hand could give them instead of realizing seeking to be in His presence feeds the soul as nothing else. Being in the presence of an awesome God who is omnipotent, yet desires a relationship with us, brings a peace and contentment as nothing else. David, described as a man after God’s own heart, wrote in Psalm 27:8…When You said, “Seek My face,“ My heart said to You, “Your face, Lord, I will seek.”

         May we desire to give Him glory in all we do just as Mother’s little cattle herd does. Let our attentiveness to the fragrance of the self-sacrifice of Jesus Himself gave for us far exceed the sweet-smelling aroma of the blackberry blossoms. Only embracing the self-sacrifice of Jesus fixates us on His face. No material blessing compares to resting calmly in His presence.

Are You Good Mama?

Hopefully, Mother won't be a "mad mama" today, even though she doesn't like for her name to appear in the blog posts I write. Since she has been and continues to be a "good mama" she needs to be praised. Happy Mother's Day to each of you women who serve so selflessly your families.

Angie, my sister, was quite young when Mother was threatening to discipline her. She looked at Mother, asking soberly, “Are you mad mama?”* To which our easy-going mother retorted, “Yes, I’m mad.” Angie shot back quizzically, “Are you good mama?” Mother, many years later, said that exchange disconcerted her momentarily until she clarified, “Yes, I’m a good mama, but I want you to mind.” 

Photograph taken after Mary Jo Thurber Sexton's
wedding. Mother was the vocal soloist and Linda 
Mitchell and I were the candle lighters during the
ceremony at the Masham Baptist Church on 
October 12, 1963. Angie was barely 2 years old, 
Mother was almost 39 years old, and I was 7. This
was about the age Angie was when she asked the 
"mad mama, good mama" questions.

On this Mother’s Day, Angie and I celebrate a mother who practiced good discipline measures with us. As a strong-willed child, she could not let much slide with me. Be assured, I would push the envelope with her if she had allowed it. For the record, Angie was more compliant and calm as a child than I was. I did not recall the "mad mama, good mama" conversation. It must have happened while I was at school.

I was about four years old living in the pink house where Mother and I still live. We had lived in the new house only a short time. Angie would be born later in the year. Even at that young age, I loved to play paper dolls. For the first time in my life, I had my own room. I had played with several different paper dolls using my imagination all day long. It was getting late. Mother was preparing supper because Dad would be coming in soon from Ponca City where he was constructing new homes with Uncle Herb Gates. She had told me to put them up numerous times. My response, “I will.” But I kept playing.

Soon darkness began to fall. Dad pulled in and came in to check on me. Unbeknown to me, Mother let him know she had told me to put away the paper dolls and expected me to put them up before coming to supper.

Dad made no attempt to change Mother’s mind, but he did come to my bedroom and attempted to help me clean up the paper dolls. It prompted me to say, “Oh no, Daddy. That is not where those clothes go.” Mother had taught me to organize all my paper dolls so I could enjoy playing with them and quickly put them up. So, Dad just sat with me chatting as I worked diligently to put the paper dolls into their boxes getting the bedroom cleaned and obeyed Mother’s seemingly unattainable demand. I learned excuses and procrastination had no bearing on Mother’s directives. I jokingly have told Angie our mother (and Dad) helped make us valued employees in our respective careers with their consistent discipline.

Good parents provide the foundation for their children learning to trust and obey God. As we recall loving mothers who gave us direction in the right way to respond to meaningful instructions for living our lives, may we heed the words Solomon wrote in Proverbs 3:11-12 as a clear guideline to obeying the heavenly Father.                                                                                             

My son, do not reject or take lightly the discipline of the LORD [learn from your mistakes and the testing that comes from His correction through discipline]; Nor despise His rebuke, for those whom the LORD loves He corrects, even as a father corrects the son in whom he delights.

*Mother said she had to discipline when she was upset with us. She knew if she let much time elapse, due to her easygoing nature, no discipline would be meted out. 

Are Dandelions Really Junk Food?

              I hopped off the school bus as a third grader to have my maternal grandma chuckle as she retold my earliest family story connected with dandelions. She invited my toddler sister to “go outside and help me pull dandelions.” Angie replied big-eyed to  Grandma, “I’m afraid of lions!” Mother and I still laugh at what a bright, precocious little one Angie was.

Several times this spring, I glimpsed numerous honeybees land upon spikey dandelion blooms. I recalled reading of the high value placed on dandelions as a source of pollen for honeybees. Yet my research with the Oklahoma State Extension Education site listed dandelions as “minor nectar and pollen plant sources” for honeybees. 

I spotted this honeybee seeking pollen or nectar
from this dandelion  one early April morning
when hanging clothes on the clothesline.

            Another article specified that perhaps dandelions can produce their peak pollen for about an hour in late morning for about two months of the year. The primary source of “food” for the honeybees in our area is pollen and nectar from sweet clover and alfalfa, while some areas east of us rely on the persimmon and some in the south depend on the  blooms of the cotton crop.

            In life, there are “lesser” and “greater” things. Just as dandelions will never supersede sweet clover for honeybees, neither will humans prosper internally who seek to major on the minor elements. These are delineated by God’s Word. The scriptures below point to what should be the major goal of humans.

“Everyone who is called by My name, Whom I have created for My glory; I have formed him, yes, I have made him.” (Isaiah 43:7)

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. (Deuteronomy 6:5)

…Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. (Deuteronomy 6:5)

If anyone speaks, let him speak as the oracles of God. If anyone ministers, let him do it as with the ability which God supplies, that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belong the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.  (I Peter 4:11)

            Speaking, ministering, or serving others is valued highly in our society. Peter explained succinctly that whatever we do should be to glorify God through Jesus Christ.

            Some gardeners or apiarists (beekeepers) describe dandelion pollen as lower quality. A few characterize it as “junk food” for bees.

            Our service for the wellbeing of others without doing it through the power of Jesus for the glory of God categorically ranks with dandelions. People may benefit from the service. However, any good deeds, acts of kindness, or uses of our giftedness or talent without the prime motivation to bring glory to God through Jesus Christ are rendered futile and useless in His eyes. 

            May we internalize God's purpose for our living for His glory. In turn, we will succeed and prosper in our souls. No recession, no reversal of fortune, or the ever-changing volatility of fame or popularity will touch the contentment and peace of knowing our obedience will bring glory to Him.