GERALD JOHN KELLY JR
GERALD J KELLY JR
24W/7
REMEMBRANCES
A new generation remembers ...
Rededication of the Cardinal Dougherty Vietnam Memorial - November 11, 2010
In memory of Captain Gerald J. Kelly, Jr.
There are 27 unique stories that bring us together on this Veteran’s Day. It is important for us to share the snapshots of these lives and today we have the chance … my brother, Gerald’s story will have some similarities and some differences than those of the 26 other young men. They have all been loved and they have been missed. In keeping each story alive, we can continue to honor their courage as we rededicate this memorial.
Gerald was six years older than me so some of my early memories of him are black and white snapshots or stories told by friends and family. As a child, he had blond, curly hair (that he hated) and an endless amount of energy.
From a young age, Gerald had a passion for all things army … from the little green army men to playing army with anyone who would join him. One of my cousins recently reminisced how Gerald loved to visit their house out “in the sticks.” They lived in Glenside but that was a world away from our row home in Logan. Surrounded by woods and a creek, Gerald and Tod would go on “maneuvers” keeping the countryside safe. Growing up, Gerald’s favorite TV show was Combat and he loved to read about the Civil War. My brother was one of the few people I have known in my life who had a passion for something as a child and was able to make that his life’s work.
Early in grade school, my brother met his two best friends, Ed and Frank Stone. The three of them were together so often that Gerald was considered to be the third twin. When I was sorting through some of my mother’s pictures last year, I came across a picture of the altar boys taken in Holy Child Church probably in the mid-1950s. There in the front row with stiff, white collars and red bows were three angelic faces … Gerald, Ed and Frank.
As I got older, the memories of my brother became more vivid … the half ball games on the red brick street in front of our house … the white bucks he wore for his eighth grade graduation … his learning to play the clarinet so that he could be in the Cardinal Dougherty band along with Ed, also on clarinet, and Frank with cymbals clashing over his head. My father volunteered to sell tickets at the Dougherty football games and I remember the Sunday afternoon games at Northeast High School. Perhaps the best memory of CD football was after a victory when the band and drill team would get off the buses at 5th and Godfrey and they would march back to school with the football team rocking the school bus behind them.
During high school, Gerald had his first job at the Acme where he continued to work through his years at La Salle College. His family ties were strong as well and he often would take my younger cousins to see the Phillies play doubleheaders at Connie Mack Stadium. His first car was a 1950 black Dodge sedan that was big enough for about 12 teenagers! His next car was a true classic … a 1955 Chevy … an aqua and white beauty that he drove until he left for the service after college. His last car was a 1967 Volkswagen Beetle that for some reason he purchased in Oklahoma before he shipped out to Germany. Although the Beetle was an icon of its time, I had always wished that Gerald had selected the American icon of that time … the Ford Mustang!
Without a doubt, what I remember most about Gerald is that he was always surrounded with friends. It seemed that each year, his circle of friends grew. There were friends who went on vacation with us to North Wildwood and the fraternity brothers from La Salle who came to our house each week to watch the original Batman TV series. Always the one to arrive with a carload of girls, Gerald and his friends went to dances, parties, proms, Palestra doubleheaders, and New York City … it seemed the less money they had among them, the more fun they had.
Compulsory ROTC in college helped Gerald plan his future. He spent summers at Fort Indiantown Gap and graduated from La Salle with a regular army commission as a second lieutenant. Gerald’s graduation day was not complete until he walked to the Stone’s house. Although Ed was in the seminary, Frank answered the door to see Gerald in full uniform. Frank, in the PA National Guard, saluted my brother. In keeping with tradition, Gerald handed him a dollar because Frank was the first to salute him.
Interestingly, I have discovered that Gerald was a prolific letter writer. I have found letters to my parents (and me) and to my grandmother from Fort Sill, Fort Benning, and Ansbach, Germany as well as those he wrote from Vietnam. In the summer of 1968, my parents and I went on a two-week vacation to Germany where Gerald spent his leave time with us touring southern Germany and Austria. There, as at home, we met his numerous friends and were welcomed into the home of a close German friend who later married a friend from Dougherty.
Since Gerald’s chosen profession was as an officer in the Army, it was a given fact that his careen path had to pass through Vietnam. My father never understood why my brother wanted to be in the army. Dad, a sailor in World War 2, always said that at least you had a clean bed in the Navy. What my father never added to that statement was … unless your ship goes down which his LST did off the coast of Anzio.
Gerald came home from Germany on leave in November of 1968. He was home for my senior prom from Little Flower and for Thanksgiving. In early December, he said good-bye to his family, friends and the love of his life who would put her life on hold until he returned. His journey to Vietnam took him through Honolulu, Wake Island and Okinawa.
In his first letter from Vietnam on December 24, 1968, Gerald wrote:
Dear Mom and Dad,
Just a short note. Landed in Vietnam (at Bien Hoa). I’m now at Cu Chi. I’m assigned to the 25th Infantry Division.
Love, Gerald
There were a number of letters that followed. Our letters took a long time to reach him and his even longer to reach us. He kept his letters home very simple. In one letter, Gerald wrote: This has got to be the first war in history where people go to war with cameras, and TV and radio. Sometimes it seems like a picnic. Well, big brother, let me tell you about cell phones, uTube and Facebook!!
Gerald was more open in his letters to his friends where he would describe his job as a forward observer, the operations, the risks, the increasing danger. He complained about the heat, the stink and the food. He wrote of a recurring nightmare that he would die in an explosion on the ground. The dream was so realistic that he had requested a transfer to an airborne unit. Through it all, he was so proud to be a member of the military … living a dream and serving his country.
During the time that Gerald was in Vietnam, we planned a 25th wedding anniversary for my parents. Gerald supplied the financial support and I did the party planning. On May 10, 1969, my parents renewed their wedding vows in a mass and then we continued the celebration at our house.
On May 14, 1969, Gerald wrote to his long-time friend before dawn:
Dear Ed,
I have finally gotten my wings … a transfer to an Airborne Unit!
Love, Jerry
On May 17, 1969 at 8:00 am on Saturday morning, there was a knock at our front door. There are no words necessary for a family who opens the door to an officer in uniform. On May 14, shortly after writing his letter to Ed, Gerald was killed when he stepped on a land mine during a sweep mission (in Hau Nghia), about 15 miles southwest of Cu Chi.
May 26, 1969 … A flag-draped coffin … black vestments ... A full church … taps … 21-gun salute … the final good-byes.
It was as if time had come to a halt. From my mother’s agonizing screams to the endless tears to the constant flow of people, you find yourself standing outside your body watching and wondering how life will go on. Unfortunately, for our family, tragedy revisited us again six weeks later when my father died. Although he had serious medical issues, my father was unable to reconcile his grief over my brother’s death.
The pain and loss our family suffered at that time tested our resiliency. We learned that death is really about a life well lived but it is also about living life after death. My mother became a source of inspiration to all who knew her. Acknowledging that life would be very different without my father and my brother, my mother believed that life would still be good even if it was different.
In 1971, my mother married a long time friend who was a widower. With our own version of the Brady Bunch, my mother and I found ourselves encircled with a new family with six more children ages 4 to 23. Our blended family now includes grandchildren and great-grandchildren and we celebrate all special occasions together. A tradition of service to country continues today as we have family serving in the Army and Navy on duty from Fort Carson in Colorado to the US Embassy in Kabul.
Throughout the years, we have appreciated the opportunity to honor the life and death of my brother. The dedications of the Vietnam Memorials, in Washington, in Philadelphia and at Dougherty are a part of our family legacy.
I remember a hot, humid night in Washington, DC that gave way to cold, damp, blustery November day. My mother, stepfather and I stood for hours waiting for the official dedication of the Vietnam Memorial. To this day, I cannot hear Chariots of Fire without being transported back to that place and time.
The dedication at Cardinal Dougherty was a more intimate gathering of friends and family. It was comforting and was even more meaningful to take place where each of our heroes had spent their high school years that were filled with happy, crazy, serious, funny and heartfelt memories. We will never know the all lives they touched when they lived and since they died.
My mother is alive and physically well but not with us today. Alzheimer’s Disease has taken these painful memories from her. She enjoys having family around her and she is still able to recognize us. She lives in an Assisted Living Community where she brightens the lives of those around her. Just as she did after Gerald and my father died, she continues to be a woman of grace and an inspiration for all. If she would be with us today, mom would be wearing her gold star pin and would listen to the stories that each of you holds so close to your heart.
So many young men left their homes and loved ones for the rice patties and jungles of Vietnam. Too few came home … but all of their stories are important. What each of these 27 young men would have been is within each of us and it is an honor to continue their stories as we remember them and all the veterans who have served our country.
From the bottom of my heart … thank you and welcome home!
If I should die...remembrances for CAPT. Gerald John KELLY, JR, USA...who died for our country!!!!!!
We Remember
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
Mary Frye – 1932