Congratulations to a special man, Charles J. Gude, Sr.
Mr. Gude is a war hero of a rare breed. He earned the Distinguished Service Cross (only the Congressional Medal of Honor is higher) and the Purple Heart for bravery in combat in France in 1918.
He has said little about himself over the years. In fact, it wasn't until recently that he revealed that the Army never gave him the Purple Heart medal, he suffered for 56 years ago.
Bill Joseph, county veterans service officer, got the ball rolling through the Veterans Administration. When the VA checked the records it found that a formal ceremony had never been held to present Charlie with the DSC. The government had mailed the coveted cross to him.
As a result, the VA and Army worked with Post No. 8 Commander Harold Bliss and held a formal pinning ceremony at the Legion meeting before members of the Gude family, and a host of WWI veterans and many other veterans of wars.
It was a dramatic moment for the Gude family and surely a special moment for our friend, Charlie. We joined with the other veterans in giving him the kind of applause he earned at so great a price.
Hello there, Sara Jane Whitten.
Sara Jane Whitten said she had regrets about retiring from the Nebraska City teaching job she held for so many years. She would miss Junior High and the busy days and nights.
Ha! Just the opposite.
She's having a ball.
"I couldn't go back even for a short time," she said. "I'm too busy."
Miss Whitten is occupied in many arts and crafts hobbies and says that since she got involved in that, she realizes how much "other work" there is besides the daily teaching chores.
"I just love what I'm doing now and I have a lot of wonderful memories of children in school," she said the other day.
Oh . . . Miss Whitten, you made an impression on many Junior High students and they speak very highly of you today, long after they graduated from school.
The Rev. and Mrs. John Green and sons are looking forward to building a new home along Central Avenue in Porter Acres Addition.
The Green home will be next to members of their congregation, Mr. and Mrs. Roger McCreary. Another member of the church, Mrs. John Stocker, also lives just a short distance from the site of the preacher's new home.
The First Evangelical Lutheran church parsonage at 402 South Sixteenth Street has been the Green home since the family moved to Nebraska City. The church board will gi-ve the pastor a housing allowance and sell the parsonage.
That's just great with the Greens. They call Nebraska City their home and they're watching anxiously as construction on the basement gets under way.
"Besides, the parsonage is too small for our growing family," Pastor John and his wife, Winola, said. Their sons are John, 12, Andrew, seven and Stephen, three.
Dr. D. D. Stonecypher, Sr. didn't tell me directly, but his eyes printed out a message to me the other day: "Beat it. I'm working."
We stopped in to see the eye doctor on the day that the woman of the house was having her eyes checked.
Have you ever done that? It's an easy way to get into trouble.
I tried to assure Doctor Stonecypher that my intentions were sincere, I just wanted to make sure that the Missus got the proper examination and frames and fitting.
He assured me that I was welcome to stay, but not particularly invited to talk.
So, I sat there for a moment not saying anything. After all, when a doctor is at work, you don't want to disturb him.
Well, a moment was long enough. (Besides, he's got a sense of humor.)
"Doctor," I said.
"Ummmmm?" he answered. (That's the mumo-jumbo you always hear about.)
"How's it going?"
"Ummmmmmm," he answered.
"She going to need new frames?"
"Ummmminnnum . . . " he answered.
"Can I ask a favor?"
"Ummmmmmmmmm."
"Can you put a strap or headgear attachment of some sort on the frames?"
"Ummmmmmm?" he asked (why).
"We may go roller skating and I don't want her to lose her glasses and crush them under the wheels of skates," I explained.
CLANG! . . . bang! CR-a-A-C-K! (He dropped the eye examining tools).
"Out," he said.
"Huh?"
"Out," he said again.
"Okay . . . okay . . . you don't have to get so fussy."
I did just exactly as he told me. I left the examining room . . . and went into the room where all the fancy frames are displayed.
In a moment he came into the room (his moustache was smiling) and he offered her several different styles of frames.
I offered several suggestions too.
"Don't you have to go to work?" he asked.
So I waited patiently in (what else) the waiting room as he finished the frame fitting, and thumbed through magazines reading about Stevie Wonder and Gladys Knight and the Pips.
Well, to cut off this story . . . no one paid any attention to me despite the g-l-o-r-ious suggestions I made about proper frames.
As I started to leave, Doctor Stonecypher called to me:
"I'll be over to see you in the next day or two."
"What for?" I asked.
"I've got a couple of editorials I'd like to print in the paper," he explained.
"So long, doctor."
"Good-bye, Ivan . . . the magazines with the pictures will be here when you return."