Friday, May 28, 2010

Never forgotten....

No Memorial Day passes that I don’t stop and think about Teddy and Ray Dobrenz…farm brothers, twins from Wyoming, hard working, loyal to the cattle, chickens and sheep while constantly being respectful of their parents Wilfred and Hattie Mae, two brothers that stayed true to their leadership qualities inside a circle of children that added to nine.



Then one day The United States of America knocked—a new plan, a call to a far away place. Maybe to the Dobrenz family it didn’t seem like much to send two more boys—earlier Chuck and Willie performed what was required then returning home safely.



I often wonder if Hattie Mae felt something different about these tours—I remember being the Grandchild who’d sit staring at black and white photographs begging to know more. The bedroom I spent many summers sleeping and playing in was blanketed with perfectly preserved school books, kid like trinkets, time scented closets were filled with clothing I was much too small to wear and colorful medals laid silently on the cabinet searching for the heart they were meant for.



I felt drawn to constantly wonder why I had never met two men who obviously meant a lot to the woman called Mom. She held on to many things except the memories, they were always set aside, locked in a self designed keepsake trunk and protected by every wish from this day forward to remember only the good times.



Teddy and Ray weren’t killed in action in Korea. That would mean there was a conclusion.



Have you ever looked into the eyes of someone who prays everyday for hope to become discovery? Mom’s brothers were MIA (Missing in action) interestingly enough, the twins were navigator’s onboard fighter planes—both brought to the earth over the waters that kissed the shores of a country many people then and now still don’t understand.



Standing next to Grandma Dobrenz I’d compassionately listen to her ever so soft cries always wanting to wipe the salt from the eyes she would hide. I dreamt of the day one or both boys would walk through that giant Wyoming farmhouse door and pick up their Mommy like a high school graduate and promise to never take off again.



Missing in Action means there’s no evidence of their being a loss of life.



In my tiny world…they didn’t seem lost. A moment captured on a playful day in Korea gave birth to a record—a 45 played at 78 that bared both boys’ voices, “Hi Mom! We had time to stop into this place and somehow they convinced us to hold this microphone and record a message for everyone we love back home. Mom, make sure you tell Violet and Betsy that we miss those pancakes on Sunday morning.”



A Dobrenz family connectedness blessed with courage and vigor to succeed…now shoved into a cardboard box and placed in an attic most aren’t tall enough to reach. One by one, year by year those who called themselves brother and sister have walked the path toward higher clouds and brilliantly displayed colors never locating the truths behind what happened on two separate days in American history.



Every chance I get I Google their names. While on Face Book I reach out to areas of the world planes don’t fly into only to hear, “No I am not the Teddy you are searching for. Good luck on your journey.”



A single answer that I can take to my Mother before time erases the trails she’s remained faithful to. Two brothers who put their country first leaving behind a family that has endured 57 years of wonder, what if and why?



This weekend we not only remember but honor in living love every man and woman who has put their government in front of God and family. Memorialized is their dedication to The United States of America…for there would be no freedom today if Mother’s and Father’s didn’t stand straight and support the children they gave birth to only to watch them be moved to places on the planet that exist only on globes, Google map and books that write the history of who, what, where and when.



There is no silence worse than the air that disappears from my mother’s lungs when she stops to hold a memory of growing up with her twin brothers.



She isn’t alone…



Honor should be never ending.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

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