For quite some time now, I’ve been researching my uncle’s World War II military service experiences. One of the most interesting findings was the motto of his unit, but more about that later. Since his and many other veterans’ records were destroyed in the St. Louis repository fire in the 1970s, I’ve had to piece together fragments of his experiences from other sources, tracing his steps through histories of the units of which he was a part.* The 391st Armored Field Artillery

Whenever I begin to do online research, such as find a specific detail or statistic, there’s a good chance that I’ll end up being distracted by some interesting but irrelevant bit of information, and off I’ll go, wasting time by chasing down the proverbial rabbit trail. Sometimes, however, that little side trip can be instructive, fun, and sometimes even productive. Such was my fortune while looking for a poem that I wanted to quote in this blog post. Alas, you’ll just have t

Albert, Prince of Belgium, visited the farm. President of his high school senior class. Officer in the Halls Community Club. With his father, a productive dairy farmer whose farm was selected as a TVA test-demonstration farm for the education and improvement of farms not only locally but also nationally and internationally. Successful small businessman as a local brick mason, known for his honesty and work quality. Deacon and Sunday school teacher. This is a worthy resume for