Mansfield Fox

Law student. Yankees fan. Massive fraggle. Just living the American dream.

Monday, May 30, 2005

Memorial Day (Observed)

My family was, remarkably, left largely uscarred by war in this bloody, unlamented late century. The result, I suppose of accidents of birth order and mild physical infirmity, mixed in with a bit of good fortune. There was one, however.

2nd Lt. William King White, Jr., Army Air Force, died November 19, 1944, when the Liberator bomber on which he was pilot went down in a snowstorm over the North Atlantic off the coast of Labrador. The plane, which was en route to England, had been unable to land in Greenland as ordered, either because of weather conditions or radio malfunction, and was attempting to return to Goose Bay, Labrador, when it ran out of gasoline. No trace of the plane or crew was ever found. (You can read his Yale class obituary here - scroll down.)

Because he was the sole surviving son, my grandfather, Charles Bradley White, spent the remainder of the war out of harm's way, stationed at a U.S. Army base in Arizona. Thus, he did not fight, nor die, at the Bulge, or in the invasion of Germany. Thus, my mother was able to be. Thus, I am.