On March 20, 1941, against his own wishes, Phil Giadone was drafted into the United States Army.  It was World War II and he was sent to Hawaii and shipped out to Java just a day or so before Pearl Harbor was attacked on the morning of December 7, 1941.  In the nick of time- a theme in Phil's military life.  In Java, he ran the motor pool, once even driving Doolittle Jr.

He was transferred to the Air Force (I think it was the Air Force...) in Java and ran the motor pool for the artillery division.  Java was part of the Dutch East Indies conquest.  Because it had rubber and oil, it was valuable to Japan, who was cut off from all resources.  Japan has no native source of oil, so once President Franklin Delano Roosevelt froze all of Japan’s assets and embargoed all oil in July of 1941, they needed a new country to get oil.  Japan took control of Java and the other islands early in 1942. 

Phil was part of the last exodus.  Japanese air raids had become morning routine.  Every day at the same time, the sirens would start and the soldiers would run for the jungle.  One day, instead of running to the jungle for cover, Phil ran for the airport and got out before the bombing trapped him.  In the nick of time.  He spent the rest of his time in Australia running a motor pool.

In 1945, his term was up and he thought he was going home but he was shipped to Arizona and had to wait to August 1945 before he was allowed home to California.

Phil is Marc’s first cousin, once removed, although he has always been more like a grandfather to us.  Phil recently had a bout of shingles, which for a 92-year-old is not an easy thing.  But he was released from the hospital yesterday and off to an interim home.  We hope to have him back to his own home within a few weeks- he just has t o get his strength back.  Phil’s a good person, a fun person AND a veteran!  So today, I honor him (as I do all days). 

I woke this morning too early (forgot to change the clock in the bedroom...) and when I checked my emails, I had a CNN breaking news that Joe Frazier had died.  I never liked boxing or followed it one bit, but my cousin Jeff and I spent a lot of time talking about Joe Frazier. 

For a time, we lived with my aunt and uncle and their three boys.  During this time, about 11 years old, I was obsessed with my tape recorder- you know, the old rectangular kind with big buttons.  Pressing PLAY and RECORD at the same time brought magic.  I had signs that said, “Shhhhh.  Taping,” that I’d pin on the door.  I had a microphone that I would interview people with.  My cousins and brother and I would do skits.

Jeff’s specialty was doing the sports casting for our news show.  He was 11 months younger than me and the funniest kid around.  I would do serious news in a manly voice and it would make no sense.  But Jeff would do an impeccable impersonation of Howard Cosell and yet spin it to make it hilarious.  He could also do President Jimmy Carter.  The best was when he did both.

“Ha-i.  I’m President Jimmy Carta.”  “I’m Howard Cosell.”

Then he’d call a fight between Mohamed Ali and Joe Frazier as both and I’d nearly wet my pants laughing.  Once, he had a bird fly in and bite Joe Frazier on the neck.  “And he died.”

Really, can it get any funnier?  Not to an 11-year-old with an amazing cousin.

So thanks, Joe Frazier, for whatever it was you did in boxing AND  for the good times we had with birds biting you on the neck until death.

I asked Grampa about his father-in-law, Peter Felt.  Grampa called him, “Pete,” and described him as a “real nice” guy who loved laughing and jokes.  He worked at the Homestake Mine in Moskee, Wyoming with his brother Lars and possibly another that Grampa called a “shirttail” relation.

The Homestake Gold Mine started in Lead, South Dakota.  Well, actually, the Homestake Gold Mine itself started the town of Lead, in the Black Hills of South Dakota on April 9, 1876.  Two brothers, Moses and Fred Manuel and their partner, Hank Harney, founded their Homestake claim.  Moses found a vein of ore, called a “lead” (pronounced LEED) and staked their claim.  Homestake Mining Company was bought by George Hearst, father of William Randolph Hearst, the newspaper man.

In about 1921, the Homestake Mining Company developed Moskee, Wyoming, about 30 miles from Lead, to provide wood to the mine.  In 1925 they opened a post office and in 1928, a school.  In the 1930s, the population was about 200.  It closed in the 1940s.

Pete’s wife Inga dominated the family.  She didn’t like Pete or their sons to drink so when Grampa would come around, Pete would tell Inga that he had to take Pierre into Deadwood or Lead.  They’d visit the shady bar and Peter Felt would drink perhaps a bit more than his share of his favorite drink: Schnapps.

Peter and Inga (Auslund/Aslund) Felt

One time, Grampa and Art Felt, Gramma’s brother, drove out to Moskee to visit and they got snowbound for three or four weeks.  They played the card game Pinochle non-stop.  Pete would go to work and they’d pace all day waiting for him to get home so they could resume the game.  I liked this story, because I have many memories, even recent ones, with marathon family Pinochle games. 

Pinochle is a game brought to America by immigrants.  The name is from the mispronounced word, “ Binocle,” meaning eyeglasses.  Pinochle was a favorite of American Jewish community and Irish immigrants, as well as German.

My dad was born in Indiana and I never really thought about why or how they ended up in Indiana.  In fact, as a child, I thought that my dad must be an Indian, since he was born in Indiana.  While visiting Grampa, I finally remembered to ask. 

My grandmother’s sister, Peggy and her husband Bob Burbridge, lived in Booneville, Indiana and worked at the Chrysler factory in Evansville.  This was during the War, so it’d been transformed into a bullet factory.  “Chrysler’s Evansville, Indiana, factory literally produced ‘bullets by the billions,’ including some 485 million cartridges for .30-caliber carbines and nearly 2.8 billion cartridges for .45-caliber carbines. Just as Chrysler prepared for production at its Evansville plant in July 1942, the Ordnance Department ordered the automaker to substitute steel for brass for the cartridge cases. Although this last minute change required Chrysler to retool much of the plant, full-scale production began in October.”  (Riding the Roller Coaster: A History of the Chrysler Corporation by Charles K. Hyde,)

Life Magazine advertisement, Feb 7, 1944, p. 27

Both Peggy and Bob worked and needed help with their children.  My grandfather was working in California at Davies Auto, but wasn’t doing what he wanted to be doing.  So when Peggy and Bob asked if Grampa and Gramma could come to Indiana they jumped at the chance.  Gramma took care of the children and Grampa went to work at the factory.  

Grampa, Dad, Auntie Karen

The factory shut down at the end of the war to convert back to cars and Grampa decided to return to California and Davies Automotive where he became a mechanic and worked for several years.

Grampa had a bunch of pictures of Uncle Art and I really wanted to do something with them, but I wasn't sure what.  There are others that I have a bunch of pictures of, too, that I don't really have a "story" for, but a bunch of pictures can MAKE a story.  Then I heard about this website that might be the answer for these "story-less" people.  So today I share with you a link to Uncle Art's 1000Memories page. 

http://1000memories.com/arthur-felt-792500

I don't have any idea who reads this site, but I'm asking (begging) you to go to this page and let me know if you can see the pictures.  Let me know if you can add stories (and please add stories).   I made Uncle Art's page "open" so that others can find it.  I can also make it "Closed" so that I have to approve you, but for Uncle Art, I just sorta think he'd be okay with "open".

http://1000memories.com/arthur-felt-792500

My great grandmother’s brothers, Clem and Henry, were among other things, very tall- well over 6 feet and racing to 7.  They were farmers and landowners, as well as railroad workers.

Henry Barnard Konst was born on May 24, 1890 in North Washington, Chickasaw County, Iowa.  His brother, Clemens Henry Konst was born on April 10, 1896 also in North Washington.  In the 1900 census they are in Jacksonville, Chickasaw County and in 1905, they are in Alta Vista, Chickasaw County.  In 1908, they moved to Capa, Jones County, South Dakota with their parents and siblings to a homestead.  But that’s a different part of the story…

When Henry and Clem were 23 and 17, respectively, they were “haymaking” in Aberdeen, South Dakota.  In 1920, Clem married Ora Belle Saxton in Philip, South Dakota and in 1921, they experienced both the birth and death of their daughter Clara.  She was born April 10 and died October 10 that year.

In 1922, Clem married Alice Rose Griswold and the next year, their daughter Dorothy was born.  They had a son, Paul William, in 1925 and a daughter Dorris in 1925.

Closed to camera is Tony Konst.  Two other tallest are Henry and Clem, Tony's sons.

Right to left: Lizzie Elizabeth Bauhaus Konst, Clem and/or Henry (not sure which is which), unknown

After the death of their father, Henry and Clem had a falling out over the land and, despite living in the same small area of South Dakota, didn’t speak for years.

I don’t know much about Henry and Clem, but I did have some correspondence with Jim Konst, Clem’s grandson who reported, “Grandpa was a quite serious man who did not want to leave his home to visit people. Once, my aunt Dorothy and her family ‘kidnapped’ grandpa and brought him to our house, a mere  200 miles away. That was the only time he came to our house.  Grandpa had his opinions as well. He never believed that man went to the moon. His simple logic was: ‘How could they go there without knowing the way.’ Grandpa enjoyed fishing in his retirement.”

From Find-A-Grave in the Midland Cemetery, Midland, SD

From Find-A-Grave in the Midland Cemetery, Midland, SD

Grampa’s Uncle Henry Konst used to tease him for being so many ethnicities and called him, “The Duke of Mixager.”

You see, Grampa’s father was half Scottish and the other half was a little bit of a lot.  Grampa’s mom’s family (Uncle Henry's, too) was German.  All German but with a possible hint of illicit Native American.

While I grew up thinking I was Indian because my dad was born in Indiana, I really didn’t know about the whole possible Native American connection.  But apparently on Great Grama’s death bed, she whispered, “There is some Indian in us.”  Coming from California in the 21^st Century, it’s difficult to imagine that being anything but awesome, but times were different in the homestead years and some things were apparently not something the family was proud of.

But all I have to go on for this illicit Native American is a death bed statement, a tease from Uncle Henry about Grampa being named Pierre for a French Indian, and a story from Grampa’s childhood.

When he was a boy, his grampa, Tony Konst, took him to the Indian Reservation.  They went into a tee pee and all sat in a circle and the men smoked a peace pipe.  Grampa doesn’t remember where this was, but he remembers thinking that it was important that they were there and that his grampa was important to these Native Americans.

So was Tony’s mom or dad not who we think but actually a Native American?  Or were Tony’s children those to first house the possible Native American DNA?

We may never know.


But it's cool.