This is “leftenant” “Finnelson” back in WWII. If I get it right (and I could well be mangling it), his dad (my granddaddy) was on the local draft board. Dad was in college and his brother was in med school and maybe they could have squeaked by without serving in WWII. But Granddaddy grew increasingly uncomfortable with sending other people’s sons to war so he told his own sons to get their affairs in order and enlist. My dad joined the Army Air Corps and I think my uncle was in the Navy, serving as a medic.

Many years later, one of my beach urchins was interviewing my dad (on the phone) for a school prodject and she was asking him questions about WWII. When The Commander wasn’t interrupting in the background to try and correct him 🤣🤣🤣, he told about how by enlisting, he got to choose his job. I dunno exactly how true that is but he wanted to learn to fly and that’s what he did, mainly training other pilots who got sent off to the south Pacific or wherever.

He never saw action because A-bomb. He and The Commander lived with her family in the Detroit area for a bit while he did factory work and tried to finish his college degree. He struggled with “hay fever” and at one point, he said something like, “I am going to the yooperland, are you coming with me?” The Comm was working at the downtown Detroit Hudson’s store but she pretty happily said goodbye to city life. They lived in the yoop for the rest of their lives, becoming what my dad called successful failures.

The Commander, ever the stickler for grammar/syntax/whatever always hated that some local folks mispronounced our family name (Finlayson) as “Finnelson”. Upon recently learning from the GG that some people up there are still doing that my reaction was to laugh out loud and embrace it 🧡

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