Julia Sneden Wrote: Remembering … On a Day Once Known as ‘Decoration Day’

Part of the Vietnam Women’s Memorial in Washington, DC; Wikimedia Commons

I never heard whether or not he came home safely, after the War, but not long after he shipped out, he sent my grandmother and Aunt Martha a captured Japanese parachute. Given America’s lack of silk during those days (pre-nylon!), my two grandmothers and Aunt Martha had a fine time making lovely underwear for the women of the family.
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My big cousin Hugh lived across San Francisco Bay, in Berkeley. An exceptionally apt student, he was, I believe, working his way through college with a job U. of California’s Radiation Lab. I had known him and his two brothers and three sisters all my young life, and was smitten by the lot — so big, so smart, and they actually seemed to enjoy seeing me. When I was just a little girl, Hugh and his brothers used to play catch with me, and I mean play catch with me as the ball, throwing me from one to the other, as my grandmother watched and tried not to fuss at them. I, of course, loved it.

The Army looked at Hugh’s college grades, and noting his facility for language, assigned him to learn Japanese. He was sent to Tokyo, during the immediate post-war years, and served there with distinction. He also met the love of his life, a bright and charming Japanese woman named Kimi, whom he married and eventually brought home to America. In his later years, Hugh became an officer of the USIS, and spent many years at posts in Japan and other places.
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And then there was my mother’s cousin, Allan Willard Burleson. My parents were both only children, so I was not lucky enough to have any aunts or uncles, but Allan Willard fit the bill just fine. He was a young bachelor, full of good-natured teasing, devoted to his extended family. He was also a lover of horrible puns. My brother and I groaned over the latter, but envied his ability to think them up.

The army drafted him just as he had received his MA in English from Cornell. They shipped him off to England, where troops were gathering in order to prepare for the Normandy invasion (though of course no one yet knew that Normandy would be the target), and he took advantage of his location to do a good bit of research into our family’s English roots, following his love of history and genealogy.

I remember the day he came back to us, some months after the War ended. We had heard that he was back in the country, and visiting assorted relatives as he worked his way West (his father lived in Idaho), but he had never been one you could pin down to dates and times. He had a way of just showing up, from time to time, and he was the kind of guest who was always welcome.