By John Fee
The Bartlett Express and Cordova Beacon newspapers
My family never overlooked Veterans Day when I was growing up. My dad made sure of that.
At the very least, we had an American flag flying in front of our house. We usually had a flag displayed, unless the weather was bad. But if it needed replacing on Veterans Day or Memorial Day, there would be a new flag to mark the occasion.
Having served in the Navy and then more years than I can remember in the Naval Reserves, my dad -- John W. Fee Sr. -- is all Navy. He had a number of different accomplishments in his naval career, but I believe he is most proud of becoming a submariner.
Some of my fondest memories are of us getting out his old uniform. If you rolled back the sleeve, a dragon was embroidered on the inside cuff. This souvenir was from when he was in the Pacific Fleet and toured Asia. During his career he also crossed the equator and served in Mediterranean.
While other kids were listening to nursery rhymes and Disney songs in their formative years, my dad sang sea shanties. It broadened my knowledge of the world in many ways. For instance, I know that the monkeys have no tails in Zamboanga.
My ability to read maps can also be traced to my dad's naval career. He was a radar man, worked with sonar and, later in life, was an air traffic controller back when they kept up with everything on paper.
At our house we had a few maps of the ocean's topography off the coast of northern California and Hawaii. So as soon as I could read numbers in primary school, my dad had me plotting courses through the Golden Gate into the San Francisco Bay or on approach to Pearl Harbor. Being a weird kid, I enjoyed this.
My dad joined the Navy, following in the footsteps of his grandfather, James W. Fee, known to all as Grandpa.
Grandpa was a tall, thin and dignified man. He taught auto bodywork at a small college, and was an artist who could draw and paint in oils. An avid checkers player, he had books on the game and studied it as do chess players. He was also known for his prowess at the billiard and snooker tables.
A kindly grandfather, Grandpa was always ready to play a game with the grandkids. He sat up very straight and always wore a long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up a couple turns.
Orphaned in his early teens, Grandpa set out on his own to see the world and joined the military. Family legend has it that he walked into an Army recruiting office and tried to sign up, giving his correct age. When they wouldn't take him, he walked across the street and joined the Navy, writing the minimum required age on the forms. At any rate, he did join the Navy at a tender age.
I don't know the details of his service, but I do know that our stately and dignified Grandpa was a teenager sailing the seas with an occasional pocketful of money. Before he passed away, my dad had him show me the lasting marks of his youth in the Navy. The long sleeves of his shirt were covering tattoos that detailed his youthful adventures. He must have had a lot of adventures, because the tattoos also covered his chest and legs.
He must have been quite a young man, getting those tattoos a century ago, considering the process at the time. I'm glad I got at least a glimpse of the more colorful side of my dignified grandpa.