Ezra Osborne--Wounded in World War 1-- Earl Coffman--Killed In World War 11--Jack Sprinkle--Paratrooper killed in World War 11 Final Segment; In Remembrance Of All Who Served Our Country In All Wars. Final Segment: It must have been in the mid-1930s when my age was 9, 10 or11 years old when I got my first look at a young man dressed in an army uniform. I walked into Woodard’s store just down hwy. 421 from where I lived on Stone Creek. There in the center of the store near the pot-bellied stove stood not one but two young men dressed in US Army Issue uniforms. They had the attention of a half dozen men that were hanging on to every word they said about the army and I doubt if anyone realized I was present. I stood looking at them transfixed by the neatly pressed uniforms. The pants resembled what I call riding britches --flared just below the hip. Leggings covered the pant legs from the knee down to their shined shoes. Their coats fit perfectly. A wide belt wrapped around their waists over the coat with shiny belt buckle fastened in front. A hat--I’ll call it a Canadian Mountie style-- set straight on the head. In those days you didn’t see well-dressed folks living on hwy. 421. Men dressed in overalls, work shoes and a crumpled hat. Same way on Sunday’s at church, difference being overalls were starched and ironed. You’d have to go to Pennington Gap to see a man wearing a suit and tie. But getting to visit Pennington Gap seven miles away would be like visiting New York now days. My admiration for these two young men still holds to this day. They were about the same age. One of them was Charlie Burgan. He lived in a hollow off 421 about one mile from where I lived on 421. The other his first cousin, Astor Burgin, lived about the same distance down 421 from where I lived. You notice I spell their last names different, that is not a mistake--Charlie’s father Simpson one day decided he would spell it Burgan instead of Burgin and it has been that way for years now. Not long after Charlie re-enlisted but Astor came home with his discharge to marry and start a family. If you remember early in the story I told you about Charlie surviving the Bataan death march only to die before wars end in a Japanese work camp. A fellow soldier from another state traveled to Lee County to see Charlie’s family and tell them about the march and Charlie’s last days. He said Charlie failed to get up to go to work one morning in the labor camp and when they checked he was dead. A few years later at the age of 15 I went to work for my uncle Lloyd C. Martin Sr. in his store at the mouth of Stone Creek on 421. A fellow by the name Ezra Osborne lived across the creek in what we called the bottom. He worked in the coal mines as an electrician to feed his family. I got to know all of his children, they were in and out of the store almost every day, but I can only remember ones girls name, Christine, she was about my age. The boys all went by initials and I can remember two of the older ones initials were T.J. and E.R. both were younger than me. Ezra, their father was in the store often also. He was very gruff and wouldn’t hesitate to go right to the point in any conversation. I began to dislike him and even more when he told me one day, “Boy you need a hair-cut.” The store was closed on Sunday’s giving me a day off. I would spend time sitting around the flower bed in front of Dick Cooper’s place with others my age listening to the men talk. One Sunday Ezra and several more men were sitting on the concrete that circled the flower bed with their pants legs pulled up revealing their socks that is, if they were wearing any. I noticed a couple of them were showing bare legs. But I noticed something odd about one of Ezra’s legs. Just above his ankle in the calf of his leg the size of his leg looked like all the calf was gone leaving nothing but skin covering the bone. His sock clung loosely to cover it. I was shocked and whispered to the boy sitting next to me. He looked and whispered back, “He was hit by shrapnel in World War 1. From that time on I grew to respect EZ Osborne and began to understand he talked to me just like he talked to his sons. “Boy you need a hair-cut, go get one.” He bought a 12 cylinder Packard. His oldest son T.J. learned to drive. T.J. would treat the boys of his age living in Stone Creek to a ride to Pennington and St. Charles in it. I wonder what kind of gas mileage he got from that 12 cylinder monster. I think it was shortly after I left there in 1951 when the mines slowed down Ez moved his family to Tampa Florida. I think he had ties to Mac Stapleton who had moved to Tampa a few years earlier. He and most of his family are buried in Tampa. One son is still living the last time I talked to J.P. Kirk. Ezra married Cleo Parks a sister to J.P.’s mother Stella. The reason for me telling you about Charlie, Astor, Bud Parsons, Charles Redwine and Ezra is I want you to know the respect I have and, you too should have, for any young man that leaves his home to join the service not knowing if he will ever return again. Ezra did that in World War 1 and came back home minus part of a leg. Charles Redwine limped through the rest of his life trying to feed his family. Bud Parsons got back and waited a long time for death to relieve his pain. Charlie Burgan was lucky to survive the Bataan death march, but ‘he gave all’ in the end probably from hard work and little food. Remember that this Independence day—July 4-2013. Fly your flag in respect to those who served and ‘Gave All’ and the ones that returned with wounds on their bodies. And untold numbers with unseen darkness in their souls because of the horrors they suffered. Don’t let yourself become just another ‘Here today, gone tomorrow’ holiday patriot’ like so many others do. Protect and live with it every single day.
Posted on: Thu, 27 Jun 2013 01:15:20 +0000
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