Somehow, as fate would have it, my Uncle Ed ended up in pilot school during the WWII era in Natchitoches, Louisiana, where he met a knockout blond, Marty Murphy. His silver tongue and Hollywood looks convinced my dad's only sister to marry him. That's how we got our Uncle Ed, the war hero.
A member of the infamous Black Sheep squadron during WWII, Uncle Ed could always keep us entertained with his heroic stories of war. He was also the only uncle we had who didn't mind using swear words around us kids. In a sense, looking back, he really was the "black sheep" of the family, in the most beloved way.
We lost Uncle Ed on January 5, 2010. He spent the last twenty plus years of his life confined to a wheelchair due to multiple sclerosis, but you never heard him complain, and it never stopped him from telling those off-colored jokes that made us laugh though we had heard them a hundred times before.
He was a recipient of several combat medals, including the Distinguished Flying Cross, and he even received a Purple Heart for injuries he received in combat in the South Pacific.
I was just thinking about my Uncle Ed and how proud I am that he was a member of our clan. I'm thankful that he fought for you and me.
Happy Memorial Day, Uncle Ed. May you rest in peace.
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