Perry Weismiller, 11 February 1910-10 August 1952, R+I+P

Today is the 70th anniversary of the death of Perry Weismiller. 

Dad

He was my Father.

Born 11 February 1910 in Marysville, Kansas, he lived in Marysville until he was conscripted into the United States Army during the 1939-1945 War. He had always been sickly, and when he passed the medical examination for his draft, he came home and told my Grandmother, 'Mama, Hitler must be winning the war. They just took me'.
 
He did his basic training at Ft Leonard Wood, Missouri, before transferring to Sheppard Field, Wichita Falls, Texas for advanced training in the US Army Air Forces.

Dad in Uniform

After training, he was assigned to Hq&Hq Sqdn, 8th USAAF, stationed at High Wycombe, Bucks, England. It was there that he met my Mother, who had been conscripted into work in a war plant nearby.
 
They married on 7 July 1945, in her home parish church in Catherington, Hants. Dad was mustered out of the Army in December of 1945. It was April 1946 before Mum could get to the US. Family legend has it that he almost wore out the platform at the Marysville Union Pacific Depot, pacing back and forth impatiently as he waited for her train.

Dad and I on Grandma Weismiller's
Front Stoop

I was born on 5 July 1947. Dad's health problems worsened and he was in and out of the VA Hospital in Excelsior Springs, Missouri for lung surgery. However, he managed to attend the Nebraska State Training School in Milford receiving training in radio/TV electronics. He then opened an electronics repair shop. It was a natural fit since he and his brothers were all avid amateur radio operators.

On 31 July 1952, my Sister, Marlene, was born. Dad went into hospital almost immediately after her birth. He knew he was dying. One of my few memories of him is him telling me that he was going to hospital, and he wouldn't be coming home. In 1952, five-year-old children were not allowed to visit hospital rooms. I remember standing outside the building and waving to him as he looked out the window.

On 10 August 1952, he died, leaving a widow, a five-year-old son, and a ten-day-old daughter. Rest in Peace, Dad. You are gone, but not forgotten. I still miss you!