On Veterans Day, Monday, November 11, 2024, I would be remiss if I did not pay tribute to two veterans who have shaped my life–my father Pedro and my older brother Peter. I wholeheartedly salute them for serving our great country! This year marked the twenty seventh anniversary of Papá’s passing at the age of 87, and the twelfth anniversary of Peter’s untimely death at the age of 68. Both of them were my role models in terms of getting ahead in life by doing hard work, striving for excellence in whatever endeavor I was pursuing, and persevering to achieve my goals.
Papá joined the U.S. Navy during World War II and saw action in the Pacific theater aboard the U.S.S. Electra. He was honorably discharged as a Seaman First Class on December 7, 1945. I fondly remember my father, a true hero who served our country with unwavering dedication. His stories of bravery and sacrifice have always been a source of inspiration for me. He taught me the values of honor, integrity, and perseverance, which have guided me throughout my life.
Since I was a little boy growing up in the Barrio El Azteca in Laredo, Texas, during the 1940s and 1950s, my father would tell me stories about the action he saw against the Japanese on some faraway islands in the Pacific Ocean when he was in the U. S. Navy during World War II. Many times, he would repeat the story of how he lost the hearing in both ears. His assignment was to load and reload shells into the big guns. When the empty cartridges fell out, he made the motion with his hands to show how hot they were when he had to retrieve them. In those days, the sailors did not wear ear plugs. Specifically, he mentioned, with a certain amount of hubris, that he was on the USS Electra. For some unknown reason the name of his ship stayed indelibly in my mind forever.
Years later, when I was at St. Augustine High School in Laredo, Texas, I found out that the ship was named after Electra, a star in the Pleiades star cluster in the constellation Taurus. However, all during this time, I had no earthly idea what the ship looked like. I knew how Papá looked in his Navy uniform from the 8 x 10 framed photograph Mamá kept on the brick wall of our two-room house at 402 San Pablo Avenue. Other than this information, this was all I knew about Papá’s involvement in WW II. And, after the war, the USS Electra (AKA 4) received seven battle stars honors and awards for military service during World War II. On May 13, 1955, the ship was decommissioned, and nineteen years later, on June 7, 1974, it was sold as scrap to the Van Komodo International Ltd.
According to his service records that I later found, Papá served one year, seven months, and twenty-eight days of sea duty. His commanding officer at the time of his departure from the USS Electra (AKA 4) was Commander Dennis Slocum Holler. By the time Papá got home to his beloved family in Laredo, Peter was over two years old, and my older sister Lupe was one year old. I was born the following year in 1946 and am considered a first-generation Baby Boomer. On the authority of the Census Bureau, any baby born between 1946 and 1964, is classified as a Baby Boomer because the birthrates skyrocketed to over four million a year. Afterwards, he joined the U.S. Naval Reserve in Laredo and retired as a Petty Officer First Class in 1972, after a total of twenty years of service. Also, during this time, Papá retired from the Laredo Transportation Company where he worked for twenty-five years as a bus driver and later as an inspector.
I am very proud to state that Papá was one of over 16 million American soldiers who fought valiantly to prevent evil from prevailing and spreading. It was only when “Taps” was being played at his funeral at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery, on that cloudy, rainy, and mournful Tuesday afternoon, April 1, 1997, that an overwhelming sense of indebtedness and gratitude engulfed me for the courage and sacrifice he and men and women of his generation made so that we could continue to enjoy our freedom. They all, indeed, belonged to the Greatest Generation.
At St. Augustine High School, Peter was an outstanding basketball player, with his unstoppable fade-away jump shot, which I could never imitate. Since elementary school at St. Augustine School, he served as an altar boy, and even when he was in high school. He graduated in 1962. Peter was drafted by the U.S. Army in 1964, right in the middle of the Vietnam War and he served his country until 1976. During his twelve years in the U.S. Army, he served as a Military Policeman, then became a criminal investigator, and later received a promotion to the position of Deputy Chief Investigator for the Office of the Provost Marshal. While stationed in Germany, he married Heidi Pietsch and they have five children.
He was a successful attorney in Columbus, Georgia. In 1993, Peter was in the initial nomination process for the Muscogee State Court judgeship of the county where he lived. And, two years later, the Ledger-Enquirer, the newspaper for Columbus, Georgia, published a big front-page story and a color photograph of Peter in the Sunday Living Section entitled, “Fighting for the Little Guy.” This prompted Mayor Bobby G. Peters to write him a nice congratulatory letter, stating in part, “Pete, I am proud to be associated with you as a colleague in the practice of law, and even more, as a friend. I appreciate the ideals you uphold as you work to make justice available to the indigent….Please call on me whenever I can be of service to you.” A few years later, he was one of eleven candidates to be nominated to fill a vacancy in the fifth judgeship for a judicial circuit position in northern Georgia. Even though he was not selected, I am still very proud of his nomination and accomplishments.
On the afternoon of Wednesday, February 15, 2012, I received a telephone call from his son Patrick to let me know that Peter had passed away that morning. He was in his office getting ready to appear in court to defend a client when he had a massive heart attack at the young age of 68 years. It is always hard to say farewell to a beloved family member, and at every anniversary, the feeling of physical separation becomes more daunting again, more infinite, and more profound. Needless to say, my grief was overwhelming when Peter passed away. I found solace in my Catholic faith through the solvent of prayer, family, and friends. The only consolation that I have is that he died doing what he loved best–being at work, fighting for the poor and the underprivileged. Peter was a guiding light in my life. As a role model, he showed me the importance of kindness, hard work, and faith. His wisdom and support were constants that I could always rely on. His laughter and warmth brought joy to everyone around him.
Even though Papá is no longer with me, his legacy lives on in the lessons he imparted and the love he shared. I miss him dearly, but his influence continues to shape who I am today. And Peter’s spirit remains a part of me, and I strive to live up to the examples he set. The memories of our time together are treasures that I hold close to my heart. I do miss both of them, and I will never forget their influence on me. They are always in my thoughts and prayers.
