Mark Millican: Their deeds will outlast them

Published 8:00 am Sunday, January 14, 2024

Around mid-December Rhesa Chastain of the Ellijay Times-Courier staff emailed to see if I could cover a military-oriented event after Christmas; the nonprofit Georgia Mountains Hospice was going to visit my old friend Tom Lowery and through their We Honor Veterans program present him with some items related to his military service. I was a bit surprised because Tom had never mentioned being deployed in the Korean War, and also saddened because we would be out of town on the Georgia coast when the presentation took place.

However, through the patience and kindness of the Lowery family, they helped me “hear” the presentation live through an open phone line, and I took notes.

Tom Lowery, 92, is the epitome of a quiet leader who models wisdom and strength just by his presence. More than three decades ago when he took more than a dozen of us on a church-building trip to Mexico, there was no doubt who was in charge, although he never exerted authority in the sense of ordering us around. He simply announced what needed to be done and suggested who would be good at that certain task. In two days we had a rustic structure built with a tin roof, dirt floor, benches and a podium. Tom was our spiritual linchpin to make that happen, and I’ll never forget the trip.

Tom is now on hospice care, and one day will leave this Earth as will all of us. There are notable veterans who have already passed in the last year whom I have had the honor to write about. One of them was Ralph Painter, the brother of Mose Painter of Conasauga Lumber Co. fame who also was an innovator in the carpet industry. Ralph was in the Battle of the Bulge and suffered throughout his life from his feet almost being frozen. He died in November a few days short of his 102nd birthday.

Somehow Burley Davis had flown under my radar as a World War II veteran. In late November when he described his part in that war which included watching aerial “dogfights” in the skies above England, it was still real to him and realistic to myself and his caretaker Jennifer Griffin. She made the newspaper aware of Mr. Davis’ age of 100 when she brought in his photo and info for the Veterans Day special edition, and said he was lucid and could talk about his memories. Unfortunately, he passed away before the article came off the press.

Just last week we lost another veteran who was a stalwart in our community, Jon Vigue, perhaps better known as Semper Fi Santa. Jon and his wife, Mrs. Claus Michelle, and their sidekick, Gina, who played the elf, brought joy and encouragement to many underprivileged kids in our area. As a U.S. Marine, Jon survived the Beirut barracks bombing in 1983 that killed three of his roommates and injured him so badly he could never father children. Even though struggling with PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) for decades, he gave unto others until his time had come.

Over the holidays I was in touch with another old friend, Jon Kilburn. He and I have worked on multiple construction projects together, and he was my best man when Teresa and I were married. Jon shared memories of his father, Merrill Kilburn, who as a shipbuilder in “Boston, Mass” had a hankering to join the Navy. However, on the day he went to see the recruiter it was Army day instead of Navy, so that’s where he was billeted. Still, when officers learned of his nautical background he ended up piloting a tugboat in the Philippines under the World War II command of Gen. Douglas MacArthur.

Merrill Kilburn had four brothers who also served in the military, and one was an assistant amtrac driver on D-Day. As a 17-year-old, his mission was to use a rifle and try to shoot and blow up mines before their landing craft hit one en route to Omaha Beach.

As I think of these men and their missions, amazement is an understatement. From serving on ships in wartime to being deployed with Patton’s Third Army to hearing the horrific sound of deadly V-2 rockets attacking Great Britain, and having the pressure of being a teenager and keeping mines from killing you and your fellow soldiers, their experiences run the gamut of outright fear to ultimate victory. Though scarred — sometimes for life — they made it back and became contributors to their family and society.

May we always remember them, and their deeds.

Mark Millican is a former staff writer for the Dalton Daily Citizen.