The Post-Standard News |
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Purchased for use on the Borodino Bullett. Post-Standard,
The (Syracuse, NY) July 4, 2004 DICK CASE POST-STANDARD COLUMNIST We're arguing about patriotism
on this Fourth of July. It's one of the aftershocks of the war in Iraq.
We're squaring off, pointing fingers. It's depressing. There was Bob Sharpe, a combat veteran of World War II, a man who
has carried his battle wounds with him nearly 60 years. A Japanese
anti-aircraft shell in the battle for Okinawa left him with a badly
scarred arm and one leg 3 1/2 inches shorter than the other.
Bob and his wife, Millie, have lived in Spafford 50 years,
in a cozy farmhouse on a ridge above Otisco Lake with a view to die for.
The passing years increased the pain of Bob's body, but no resentment
lived in his head.
"He loves the America he fought for," Millie says.
Bob, as a Spafford veteran, was invited to the monument
dedication in Borodino. Sure, he'd be proud to march in the parade.
Then, in early May, Bob had two strokes. His family says it was
touch-and-go for a while. His left and right sides were paralyzed, his
speech slurred, his swallowing machinery impaired. Still, he struggled
back.
"He's a fighter," his wife says.
Yes, Bob was in the Borodino parade, pushed in his wheelchair by
his grandson, Kyle Curtis. His participation lit up the day.
"We were amazed," my brother Bill tells me. He's a Spafford
neighbor of the Sharpes and former colleague of Bob's at Niagara Mohawk.
He helped organize the Memorial Day event.
"Everyone was surprised to see Bob there," Bill says. "It was very
touching."
I talked about the parade, the war, the Sharpes' life and marriage
and lots of other things one beautiful afternoon last week on the front
porch of Bob and Millie's farmhouse on Willowdale Road. They've got 116
acres, including a woodlot, and a front yard across the road that slants
rapidly to Otisco Lake.
The porch is bordered by shade trees, flowers and birds that sing
their hearts out. We're drinking lemonade.
Yes, Millie's saying, "We weren't sure for a while if he would make
it." She wasn't talking about the parade. "He's getting better; we're so
happy to have him home."
Bob gets around in his wheelchair and a Little Rascal electric
cart. He's in rehab and faces two operations to clear his neck arteries of
the plaque that likely brought on the strokes. The day of the parade he
was still a patient at Community General. "We talked them into letting him
out for a few hours," Millie explains.
Bob was drafted into World War II the same week he graduated with a
business degree from Syracuse University. He left behind a chance to work
full time as an accountant for Niagara Mohawk and Millie, the dress
designer from Missouri he'd met on a train.
"I got a message from President Roosevelt," Bob says with a smile.
After training to be an Army officer and airborne artillery
observer, he ended up in Hawaii, and eventually the Pacific Theater,
spotting targets during several invasions, including the one that
liberated the Philippines.
He was hit at the very end of the war, spotting above the beaches
of the island of Okinawa. An enemy shell hit the plane he was riding in,
tearing off a wing and putting a round through his leg and cutting his
arm.
"Out in the field, they told me they'd have to take my leg," Bob
says. "It was badly infected, but they saved it."
The Army moved Bob through a series of military hospitals in the
South Pacific and the United States as the armistice was signed and most
of the warriors went home. His recovery took months and lots of pain and
discouragement. When Bob and Millie married in 1946, the groom was an
outpatient with a brace on his leg.
Millie says her husband convinced her the sparkling lakes of
Central New York were better than "the muddy Mississippi" she knew growing
up; they settled in Syracuse. The job he'd been promised at Niagara Mohawk
waited for him.
Fifty years ago, "we found our place in the country," Millie
continues. Bob sits next to her, their hands entwined. She helps him
finish his sentences.
After raising three children, Millie, the former designer, opened a
gift shop in their home. The Cat's Whiskers is 31 years old this summer.
One of the jobs Bob took on refitting the retired farm for his
family was to raise a tall flagpole in the front yard. It speaks to his
patriotism.
"He wanted the flag up every day," his daughter Kristin Curtis told
me. "When we were kids, we had to take it down at 4 p.m. and fold it into
a triangle, military style."
That pole was dear to Bob. Recently, he wasn't up to keeping it in
shape. The shaft rusted, the lanyards didn't work. "We had to take it
down," Millie says.
When Bill Case asked Millie if he could help out after Bob's
strokes, she says she immediately thought of the flagpole. A new one and a
fresh banner were in place when his family brought Bob home on Memorial
Day.
"We wanted it to be a surprise to him," Millie explains, "so we
just drove by. Then he saw the flag. He told us he'd dreamed it was back.
He said, "My flag is flying again."'
Kristin Curtis says she grew up with a father who had scars on his
arm and "got his special shoes in the mail," yet lived as normally as he
could, and then some.
"The war has continued for Dad, but he never resented what happened
to him. Never," she continues. "He swam and learned to ski. He was so
graceful going down. You'd never know he had a limp and rode the lift with
one leg stretched out in front of him."
"He's our hero," Millie says.
The family dog, Bucky, naps on the porch floor as we talk. Bucky
and Bob are tight; Millie says the pet missed him a lot during his weeks
in the hospital in Syracuse. When Bob went to St. Camillus for rehab
treatment, the staff allowed Bucky to visit.
"He had a leash tied to the wheelchair," Millie explains. "He'd
pull Bob down the halls."
Bob gazes across the lake at the farm fields of the town of Otisco.
A visitor arrives. The shop's open Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. The
family and a manager help Millie meet Bob's needs and keep the Cat's
Whiskers going.
"It's not in my scheme to close," Millie says. "People can come in
and shop and visit with Bob. He loves company."
The patriot works up a big grin, hearing that. You really wanted to
get to that parade, I say to him.
"Sure did," Bob says.
Dick Case writes Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday. Reach him
at 470-2254, or by e-mail, citynews@syracuse.com. | ||