World War Two changed lives dramatically

The photo is a "famous" one in our family. It was when Mom Martha, last name Ohlson at the time, was "brave enough," as she put it, to ask Ralph E. Williams to pose for a photo when Ralph directed the Brainerd High choir. Mom was a student musician, one of three children of Andrew and Hilda Ohlson. Brainerd was a company town and Andrew worked for the railroad. Hilda was happy as mom and homemaker and she spent the last couple years of her life here in Morris. She experienced a stroke at home and died at the hospital. Her body was taken back to Brainerd for burial at Evergreen Cemetery.
 
The best-attended author event I can recall at our Morris Public Library, was for a book about the home front in WWII. The author ended up focusing on Brainerd.
Optimism was high in that railroad town as spring began in 1942. Months earlier the Empire of Japan pulled its surprise attack. I appreciate the author coming here and stimulating so much interest. I have in front of me the March 20, 1942, front page of the Brainerd Daily Dispatch. We see a headline about General MacArthur "pledging victory." Oh, and there's a delightful photo of the Brainerd High School a cappella choir. We see the announcement of a Sunday afternoon concert "in dedication to all Brainerd men in the Philippines."
How fateful that assignment was to be, for those Brainerd young men. A free will donation was taken for the concert with proceeds going to the Brainerd Red Cross. The soldiers at that point were carrying out their mission as planned. The choir put together a program appropriate for the occasion. Lenten music would stand out. The song "O Blest Are They" would be sung in special honor of Brainerd soldiers. The choir's director was Ralph E. Williams. That's my father!
Ralph is remembered here in Morris as founder of the UMM music department. You'll see that noted on our family monument at Summit Cemetery. Dad passed away in 2013. My mother Martha who was a 1942 graduate of Brainerd High School (!) passed away this past April. Both my parents reached their 90s. Both stayed home with me until their passing. Mom was an active student musician and she performed with groups in ceremonies for the star-crossed Brainerd National Guard unit.
Civil War General Sherman said "war is hell" and it hits home regarding the Brainerd soldiers. The unit was Federalized (put into the regular U.S. Army) and sent off to hold off the increasingly threatening Japanese aggression in the Pacific. The Japanese launched a ground invasion of the Philippine Islands just a few days after the Pearl Harbor surprise attack. The unit was tasked with holding off the invaders as long as possible. They fought a long, desperate delaying action at the Bataan Peninsula of the island of Luzon. They used their tanks to cover the infantry.
But efforts proved futile and retreat inevitable. Supplies evaporated. Upon surrender on April 9, 1942, the Brainerd men were force-marched 60-plus miles north with almost no food or water. They ended up in prison camps. The Brainerd folks tried to cope with the news that Bataan had fallen. News of the actual death march didn't get back here until several months later.
The normal lives of Americans were interrupted. My father had quite the musical career established. I have had more time to sift through scrapbooks since Mom's passing. I already knew Dad had an impressive portfolio of accomplishments. What I have learned more recently is even more humbling for me. I think he expected me to follow a similar path. I remember shaking hands with Art Hesse, one of my Morris teachers, when we were on the St. Cloud State campus the day I graduated in spring of 1978. The first thing he said was "oh, you aren't following in your father's footsteps with music?" I was majoring in mass communications.
 
Not so close to the tree
You can't blame my father for trying to see me in his image. He was human with the attendant limitations. The absolute truth about my music inclinations is: I had a purely intuitive gift within a narrow range, and if permitted to stay within that range and be judged on conditions to my liking, I was capable of making a good or even brilliant impression. This is not self-flattery because the range was restricted. My talent was hardly a scintilla of a fraction of my father's capabilities. There, haven't you always wanted to know that (LOL)?
I would have led a better life if expectations had been held down for me when young. Life is a box of chocolates, I guess.
Here's a press clipping with a headline that reads: "Brainerd choir wins four 'A' ratings in state contest." The article says "this was the largest number of 'A' ratings earned by any choir at the festival. Duluth Denfield was awarded the next largest number of 'A' ratings."
Director Ralph E. Williams is of course acknowledged in the article. Here's a headline that reads "Ralph Williams has splendid choir." Let's check out the lead sentence: "Mr. Ralph Williams, who is music instructor in the Brainerd High School, just returned with his choir from the national music contest where his choir received the top rating. Sunday evening they were requested to sing over the Duluth station on the program 'Minnesota sings.' This is Ralph's first year as an instructor and he deserves much credit for the fine showing he has made."
No, yours truly could not have touched musical accomplishments like this. When I auditioned for all-state band in 1971, although I had a good day, I may have gotten in because of a conspiracy. I have always harbored that suspicion. I auditioned on trumpet because I just grabbed that instrument - it was the instrument I played in marching band. My concert band instrument was French horn, which for some incomprehensible reason was considered a girls instrument.
I went to Bemidji State University, home of the Beavers (and Dave Holman country), for all-state band in the summer of 1971, and I remember the name of my dorm floor R.A.: Ed Holder. My roommate was Mark Wolfram. On my floor was Dave Fedderly who went on to be principal tuba player with the Baltimore Symphony. (Hey Dave, remember the "sperm floats" joke?)
The following summer, 1972 when Watergate was percolating, saw yours truly travel abroad extensively with America's Youth in Concert. So I feel no pressing need to see the world today. Those memories are preserved in a special place. Mom had her 30-year class reunion that summer. I smile as I know she loved telling everyone about what I was doing!
Morris MN is fine for me today. Do I appreciate those chapters with my musical life? I appreciate those who meant well in guiding me. But no, I could have foregone all that and steered into a more normal and realistic life. I would have appreciated it. I could have done more work as a "stringer" for the Morris newspaper under the unforgettable Arnold Thompson who had his own typewriter keystroking system - I well remember. He had a photo or two of scantily-clad "go-go girls" under the glass of his office desk, as I recall. (Howard Moser would say "you would remember that.")
Let's get back to a more serious history. Dad's Brainerd involvement ended because of the war. Lives changed everywhere. Here's the headline from Dad's hometown paper, Glenwood: "Ralph Williams heads Naval gun crew." The dateline says New Orleans, October 22.
 
Ensign Ralph E. Williams, USNR, son of Mrs. Carrie Williams of Glenwood, Minn., has reported for sea duty at the New Orleans Armed Guard Center, according to word received from Eighth Naval district headquarters, today. He awaits assignment as commanding officer of the naval gun crew on a merchant ship and will be charged with the defense of the vessel in case of attack.
Before entering the Navy, Ensign Williams was choir director at the Brainerd high school, Brainerd, Minn. He is a graduate of the University of Minnesota, and the Glenwood high school.
 

"Lieutenant Ralph Williams," USN

Dad would go on to serve on the USS Appalachian. We got invitations to Appalachian reunions through the years but never attended. I think Dad was one of those guys who, when he got home from the war, didn't want to dwell on that stuff any more. He saw lots of suffering in Tokyo in the immediate aftermath of hostilities - homeless families etc. Dad was never in the VFW or Legion and I wish he had been. I wish he had done that rather than spend so much time hunting and fishing, endeavors in which he often took me along. Those doggone cold-as-heck duck sloughs!
When acquiring a monument at the Morris cemetery - get your checkbook ready - I was unaware of those little cement stars with the hole for inserting a flag for Memorial Day. So I have pushed my own little flag into the ground each spring.  
Update: I talked with Erv Krosch this morning at DeToy's and he's going to try to see this gets done.
Our family has a commemorative ashtray - now there's a dated memento - for the USS Appalachian in our home. It was just mailed to us one year. Thank you.
 
Grandparents departed too soon
My grandma Carrie lived until 1949 when she died too young, age 63, my age now. Her husband Martin died several years earlier, way too young of course, from cancer. Grandma's death seems not cut and dried because I have heard two stories: a stroke or a household accident. Never mind, she led a wonderful life and raised five sons, Dad being the youngest, who all went on to live long and successful lives. I must work hard to try to get into heaven because I'd like to meet her!
Those five sons all went through confirmation at Glenwood Lutheran Church. I plan to travel over there sometime to try to keep the Williams name current. My uncle Howard was a banker in Glenwood for many years. Family legend has it that he was excused from military service because his bank supervisor considered him indispensable. Mom always told me "don't bring this up" around Howard. I found his "4-F" card in a box of memorabilia passed on to us after his death. It advises that he keep the card on his person at all times.
 
The past is always present
I perhaps have too much time to reflect these days. I plan on visiting Glenwood Lutheran Cemetery in the spring. I'm not sure the graves of my grandparents have been decorated in a long time.
God bless the memory of Martin and Carrie, along with Andrew and Hilda of Brainerd. What value they gave to the world!
Click on the link below to read a recent post I did for my companion website, a post headlined "If I could only talk to Grandma Carrie." Of special interest is the photo I have of my father posing with Carrie and Howard on the day of Dad's graduation from the University of Minnesota in 1939. Thanks so much for reading.
http://morrisofcourse.blogspot.com/2018/10/if-i-could-only-talk-to-grandma-carrie.html

My mother Martha, at left, with brother Edwin and sister Mildred along with their mom, Hilda Ohlson.

- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com