We went to visit my wife, Gwynne’s, Uncle Les for his 97th birthday. Les is Gwynne’s favorite uncle, and we try to see him 2 or 3 times per year. When he was in his late-50s, he would come up and visit us, and could still occasionally beat me at racket ball when I was in my mid-20s at the top of my game. He never got married but had a great relationship with his nieces & nephews, who still visit him regularly even though he lives an hour away, alone on his property up in the Folsom Hills of California.
Middle-Aged Les
Per the old Depression era trope, Lester Garret’s father was a ne’er-do-well and his mother was a saint. They lived on the other side of the tracks in Watsonville, California. Les was born in 1926, the middle of 7 siblings, the youngest of which, Gwynne, was my wife’s mother. Uncle Les has two birthdays on the 21st and 22nd of April because he was born after midnight at the hospital. He says that his momma knew when he was born, not some stupid doctor. Having two birthdays meant we could celebrate it twice; he wanted eclairs on Tuesday and apple pie on Wednesday, and went to Denny’s for a free birthday breakfast on both days.
Garrett Family (Les is lower-left)
He enlisted in the navy at 18 to fight in WWII; after boot camp he had his picture taken by the local photographer who put the picture on display at his shop. A lady walking by saw it and rushed home to her marriageable daughter, exclaiming, “You’ve got to down to see the beautiful sailor in the window!’ When her daughter returned from looking, she said, “Mom, that’s just Les.”
Les helped commission his ship in 1945 on the west coast of the U.S., sailed the S. Pacific, went to Hawaii, and decommission it in 1947 on the east coast. He was a quartermaster, which he says is a lot different than a quartermaster in the army; in the navy that means he was a navigator. On Victory In Japan (VJ) Day, When the crew found out the news of Japan’s surrender, of course, everybody wanted to celebrate. They had just arrived in Pearl Harbor, having transported a battalion of Marines. No alcohol was allowed on the ship but the marines had smuggled in crates of whiskey marked “typewriters.” Les explained that nothing on a ship can be kept a secret from the sailors, and they broke into the storage compartment and liberated the “typewriters.” Les had watch at midnight so he had to leave the festivities at 11 pm to get ready but his crewmates continued to party. In the morning, Les said the deck of the ship was covered in vomit and the sea was awash with empty whiskey bottles floating between their ship and the one they were moored next to. Uncle Les had a good life; I hope mine can get close.
VJ Day (Les is center-top)
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