64 years ago today

I just received a package in the mail from Richard Briggs, author of "Blackhawks over the Danube." He sent me an amazing assortment of things, which I will have to go over and post about. But something struck me--I was looking at a map of the Blackhawks' Fighting Record, and posted at the bottom was a date: returned to New York harbor on June 17, 1945. It was a Monday. Exactly 64 years ago today! The 86th Division returned without Jack. It is historical, and it is sad. But apparently, according to Mr. Briggs, they were the first division to return from Europe, so they were featured on the front page of the New York Times. I will be hunting down a copy of that newspaper!

the day I met Ted

On Tuesday before our visit, Ted called and invited me (and the kids) to attend his court hearings! He told me to arrive at the Pioneer Court House downtown Portland before 9 am, and that he'd tell security that we'd be coming, so they could give us "family clearance" (don't know exactly what that means, but hey--great!).

I left Karissa and Anna with my friend Elee, and took her oldest two boys along with Ben and Ellie and me. We caught the MAX, which stopped right next to the court house. The kids were a bit giddy, and I was a bit nervous. Okay, more than a bit. I was nervous. The four of them ran up to the front doors of the courthouse, and rattled the doors to see which one would open. Just as I came up the stairs, out came a big, gruff security guard. He grumped at the kids, "Are you coming in, or just banging the doors?" I meekly replied that we were coming in. He sternly looked down at the kids, and said "There is court in session in here today, so you need to be quiet and calm. Follow your teacher, okay?!?!" The kids all nodded with big-eyed compliance. I shuffled them through the door, and we went through security. I think it helped reinforce the idea that this was a serious place.

I told the security guards that we were invited by Ted Goodwin. One of them said that "Judge Goodwin" had told him we'd be coming, and to tell us to go up to the second floor, where the court room was (I didn't realize there is only one court room). He suggested that we would want to sit in the anteroom and watch on the closed-circuit TV (I thought to myself, well I want to sit in the court room, and Judge Goodwin said I could!) We walked up the beautiful wood-carved staircase. At the top of the landing, the stairs opened up almost straight into the court room, with the anteroom on the left. We had entered a hushed atmosphere, and I immediately felt panicked by bringing four young children into this mix. I ushered them into the anteroom (which actually opened up completely on one side into the court room) to survey the situation and determine my "move." There were three rows of "pews" behind the divider (or whatever it's called!) On the other side of the divider were two large, ornate, solid wood desks, at which each a lawyer sat. At the front of the court room was a massive, raised, wooden counter/desk/platform where the three judges would sit. In front their "desk" was the court clerk.

As I stood there at the opening to the court room, trying to determine where we would sit, three young lawyers (I'm assuming--everyone was wearing a suit) walked up to me. I wasn't sure what they were going to say to me, so I started off by saying "We're here to watch the court session. Judge Goodwin invited us," hoping they weren't about to send me away. No need to worry! The first young man smiled and stuck out his hand, saying "I'm Matt. We are Judge Goodwin's clerks, and he asked us to come welcome you and make sure you are comfortable." WOW! What a welcome, what a gesture! I asked him if Judge Goodwin had told him about our World War 2 connection, and he said that yes, the judge had been telling them lots of war stories, and that he was a friend to my great-uncle. I told Matt that I thought we should maybe sit in the anteroom, and he said "no, you can sit in the front row--you're VIPs!" Oh my, I was speechless. So I herded my troupe to the front of the room, and some young, suited men got up and moved and let us sit down. I whispered threats to the kids, and urged them to look around and soak it all up--this was such a rare opportunity! We had only been sitting for about a minute or two, when the clerk rapped loudly with her mallet, and shouted "All rise! This court is now in session, may God bless the proceedings of the day" or something like that. We rose. The judges entered. I saw Ted. We both smiled.

priceless

Today I got to hug Ted. What a historical hug--on one end of the hug, a World War 2 veteran; on the other side, this veteran's army buddy's great-niece. 64 years after Jack's death. I'm actually a bit speechless. I know I've used the word "historical" as an adjective to describe moments in my life before, but rarely in the correct context. This moment was indeed historical.

Ted came over around 4 pm and stayed for dinner. We spent nearly the entire time talking about the war and Ted's memories (he has an AMAZING memory). I am eager for our time in August at his Sisters' ranch (Sisters, Oregon). I hope to record his memories--this is priceless history. I guess I will have to elaborate later, as I'm a bit overwhelmed at this moment.

my reply *again*

Dear friend of Uncle Jack's, :)

Thank you for this, another great and amazing email! But
now I'm unsure what to call you, as it seems like I
should address you as Honorable Judge Goodwin! What an
amazing life you have lived! I feel so honored that you
take the time from such an esteemed position to write to
me. Please do tell me what is appropriate and respectful
for me to address you. And I'm solooking forward to your
picture! I would also love to hear more about your
judging--law is fascinating to me. I don't know if it
says something good or bad to you about me (because I
know it's fictional), but "Law & Order" is my favorite
TV show. :)

It is of such value to me, my family, and my children
and their children to come, to have this information.
Your stories of the Atlantic crossing, the travel in WW1
railroad cars, crossing the Rhine, battle in the Ruhr
River area, the leadership and death of John--it is such
a gift to know this. I feel a strong urgency as time
passes by, to not forget the details of the sacrifices
made by so many. Your stories are worth gold to me. And
I want my kids to grow up valuing all of this as well.

Thank you for sharing your connection to Oregon. We
really love this state as well. In 2005 our family (my
parents, siblings and our families) spent a week of
vacation in Redmond, and were able to visit Sisters as
well. (our twins, who are now great swimmers at the age
of 8, had their first swim lessons in Redmond!) It is
beautiful over there--at some point my parents had talked
about retiring in Bend, but now they are in love with
Denver. :)

I have a good friend who also grew up in Prineville--the
Smiths (I won't assume you know them! :). So I hear about
Prineville quite a bit! It's a small world, isn't it? I'm
very impressed by your youthfulness in riding horses at
your age! Great job staying young!! You will love my
parents--they are very youthful as well. :)

Thank you for being willing to walk down this path with
me...I am very appreciative.

Until next time,
Margie

PS Thank you for your address, etc...I'll send you our
Christmas card! :)

Another reply! Ted is overwhelming me with amazing information--
in a great way!

Dear Friends

Thanks to Margie's e-mail yesterday, I feel like I know a lot more
aboutyoung John F. Seaton, your Uncle Jack, and my colleague as a
junior infantry officer in the part of WW2 that was  fought in Germany
in the spring of 1945.  John and I did not have much time together, as
he took my place as a platoon leader in I Company and I became the
demolition and ammunition officer of Battalion Headquarters  Co.
We would get together briefly from time to time at the officers' mess,
or other off-duty times. I remember talking with him at some length
on the troop ship (The Kungsholm) a passenger liner that was taken
over by the US government during the war and used to carry troops
because it could outrun the German U-Boats.  We crossed the North
Atlantic from Boston in February and it was stormy.  Our training in
naval landing craft had conditioned us to some extent, so we didn't
get too sea sick.  We discovered that we had quite a lot in common,
both of us being from western ranching country, state university
ROTC students, and glad that we were going overseas in a well
trained outfit, and not as replacements.  We landed at LeHavre,
France and walked down the gangplank with our duffle bags, more
or less like regular tourists in peace time.  We were gratefull that
we had missed D-Day and going ashore in the fashion depicted
in the movie, Saving Private Ryan. Our division traveled in the old
Forty and Eight French box cars left over from World War I, to a
point near the German border where we took trucks across the
Rhine and stopped briefly in Cologne before going into combat
in the Ruhr Pocket, as it was called at that  time.  (The French box
cars got their name 40 & 8 because they could carry 40 men or 8
horses.)  The German industrial area along the Ruhr River had been
surounded by American troops before we got there, and it was our
job to liquidate the resistance and take prisoners.  Some of the
German units surrendered when they realized that further
resistance was useless, and others kept shooting at us until they
ran out of ammo.  John's original company commander, Capt.
Kamprath, an ROTC officer from Nebraska, was shot in the neck
by a sniper, but survived after being evacuated to a hospital.
Apparently the shot that hit John was instantly fatal.  John didn't
get to come home, but he did not have to suffer.  As the colonel
who wrote to the family said, John died leading the men of his
platoon in combat. I didn't see it, but talked to men who were
with him.  He was greatly admired by his men and was
greatly missed by all of us who knew him.   I am not sure, but
I think that after Capt. Kamprath was evacuated, John was briefly
in charge of the whole company. We were both 2d Lts. at the
time, but we had considerable responsibility for 22-year olds.
You being a military family will understand this.
       I would appreciate hearing from Ginger.  Perhaps her mom
saved some of John's letters home.  Margie asked whether I was
in Oregon.  My winter home, and official work station, is in
Pasadena, California, where we moved after our four children
were grown, and three of them had moved
to Southern California ahead of us.  My wife, Mary, and I were
married in 1949, while I was in law school in Eugene, Oregon,
and our two boys and two girls were all born there.  The GI Bill,
enacted by Congress during the war to help the service men
and women complete their education after the war put me
through law school.  I began my practice in Eugene, in
1951, and in 1955 the Governor of Oregon appointed me to
fill a vacant circuit judgeship in Eugene and three nearby
counties.  Five years later another governor, Mark Hatfield,
with whom I had worked as a young lawyer on the Eisenhower
presidential campaign, (1952) appointed me as a justice
on the Oregon Supreme Court where I served for nine years. 
In 1969, then Senator Hatfield, caused President Nixon to
appoint me to the federal district court in Portland. Two years
later, President Nixon appointed me to the U.S. Court of
Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, which covers nine states and
Guam and Saipan, islands in the Western Pacific.  I finally got
back to the South Pacific, not as an infantry man but as a
federal judge.
We stayed on in Portland until 1982 when the chief judge of
the circuit prevailed upon me to move to Pasadena which
became the principal office for the busiest part of the circuit,
Southern California.  By that time I knew that sooner or later
I would become Chief Judge of the circuit and would need
to be in either Pasadena or San Francisco.  Because three of
our  four children were already in the LA area, we decided to
do as the chief requested.   We did, however, keep roots in
Oregon and we now spend about half of each year at  our
home in Sisters, which is close to a family tree farm where
our children and grand children are planting Ponderosa
pines and thinning out the lodgepole.  Sisters is also close
to Prineville where I went to high school, and to the tributary
ranch country were I worked as a teenager before going to
college and on into the army via the ROTC.   It took me nearly
 thirty years, divided between Eugene, Salem, and Portland,
to get back to Central Oregon, and later to live there as a
semi-retired judge who has to be close to an airport in order
to take care of the work to which I am assigned.  The court
calls us "senior judge" which means we get to work as much
as we want to, but we get paid whether we work or not. 
I like to hear court cases, and Mary likes to have me out of
the house, so my court work keeps us both happy. Staying
off the elevators and climbing up the stairs to the fifth floor of
the Pasadena courthouse keeps my legs strong enough to get
on and off of a saddle horse.  I still help the neighbors in
Oregon gather and move cattle when the Forest Service tells
them it is time to get the critters out of the timber.  I loved
the pictures Margie sent, and wish I could enclose some of
my own.  But I don't have either the technical know how or the
right computer equipment to send pictures from here.  I will
put one in an envelope to give you an idea what I look like
and why I love Oregon.    We will move back to our house
in Sisters, Oregon, around the first of June.
Best wishes, and I look forward to getting better acquainted.  
Ted Goodwin

my reply

I quickly replied to Ted's email. I was amazed that he had written the
memoir in hopes that someone from John Seaton's family would read it.
So, I wanted to give him that connection he'd waited for!

Here is my reply:

Dear Mr. Goodwin,

Yes, you may call me "Margie!" Your email today has brought me
such joy! As I began this search a month or so ago, I never thought I'd
actually find someone who "knew" my Great Uncle Jack. And yet, here
we are, connecting across generations and living in the same state!
(at least I'm assuming you're still in Oregon) Your personal stories
about Jack, training, and Germany quench my thirst for information
we've been starved for. Thank you for making yourself available in
this way. I can't thank you enough.

My Grandma Margaret Seaton (for whom I'm named) married my
Grandpa, Cleland Mitchell, and they moved to Washington State,
where they had 4 children. My Mom, Ginger, is their youngest, and
she was born in 1946, the only one of my Grandma's kids to not have
met Uncle Jack. My parents were married in 1966, having met at
Washington State University. My Mom was from Pasco, WA, and my
Dad is a local, from Battle Ground, WA. As for my direct family, I
have a sister who lives in Roseburg, OR with her husband and 2 boys,
and a brother, who is currently living in Maryland with his new bride.
My husband, Jason is a former Army soldier, having served in the
Reserves and National Guard from 1987 until 1995. I was an Army
wife for 1 year. :) My Mom's brother, John Mitchell (who is named for
John Seaton) served the Army in 2 wars (Vietnam and the Gulf War),
and John's son Tim Mitchell is awaiting deployment with Special
Forces in January. In my living room hangs a painting by Theodora
Seaton, John's mother. She turned to painting in her grief of losing
her son and husband in the same year, and became quite a talented
painter. Well, I'm sure my Mom can say so much more to you about
the Seatons. She would love to email you directly, as she has such a
soft spot in her heart for her Mom's favorite brother. I will copy this
to her, and if it's okay with you, she can contact you as well. She has
many memories from the Montana farm where Jack grew up.
My parents live in a suburb of Denver, Colorado, but will be visiting
Oregon in about 10 days. If it would be convenient and not too
intrusive, I know that they (and I) would absolutely love to meet you.

I'm attaching two photos I took today of a newspaper clipping of John
Seaton. Also, I'd like to attach a photo of my family from last
Christmas, just so you can see "us" as well. (I am in the back row on
the left in the red shirt) Behind us in the group photo you can see two
of Theodora Seaton's paintings.

Thank you again. I also want to take the opportunity to express my
deepest gratitude and respect for the sacrifice you and your family
madeduring World War 2, and have made over the years, as you
yourself have dealt with the ugliness of war and it's after-effect.
We will never be able to repay you and your fellow comrades for
the gift you have given our nation.

In sincere gratitude and joy,
Margie

the letter

I was ecstatic to find Ted's letter in my mail box. Here is what it said:

Greetings

May I call you Margie?  As happened so often during the war that
influenced so many young lives, I barely got to know your uncle Jack,
and then he was gone.  I understand that you found my little item
about your uncle in Austin Goodrich's book .  I had written that item
hoping that someone, somewhere, who knew John Seaton, would see
it and would know that he was remembered and missed by his
colleagues.  While memories are sometimes faulty on some details,
and at 85 years mine is as fragile as any,  here is what I remember
about  John.

Like your uncle, I was a kid from the sagebrush country, but from
Oregon instead of Montana.  We talked a bit about that, and I had
to acknowledge that his winters were longer and colder than those
we had in the Central Oregon ranch coutnry where I grew up, which
was much colder and dryer than Portland and the Willamette Valley
where I had gone "away to college." Like John, I had attended a
state university and was required to take ROTC.  John  and I were
commissioned at Fort Benning, Ga. , after finishing our third year
of college in the Army.  We were sent to the 86th Division, then in
the pine woods of central Louisiana ,  and from there to various
army bases in California where we practiced beach landings with
navy and marine units in preparation for island battles in the Pacific.
We were suddenly pulled out of our South Pacific preparation and
sent to Europe to replace a division that had been destroyed in the
"Battle of the Bulge."  Fortunately for most of us, the worst of the
fighting in Europe was about over by the time we got there. 
Luedenscheid was a small town in the Rhur  where we suffered
some losses.  April 13, while we did not know it then, was only
about three weeks from the  end of the war in Europe. It must have
been particularly sad for the Seaton family to receive the news
about John and then a few days later to learn that the European
part of the war was over.   Our division left Europe and, after short
leaves at home, we were reassembled at an army base in Oklahoma
and then sent to the Philippines to invade Japan.   Fortunately, for
the 86th Division as well as for the people of Japan, the war ended
the way it did without an invasion, which would have killed at least
a million more Americans, and many millions of Japanese.
I would be most interested in hearing from you, how you came to
Oregon, and more about the Seaton family, of which I knew so little. 
I still miss that young lieutenant, your Great Uncle Jack.  
Sincerely Ted Goodwin