Perspective and Remembering my Grandfather

Life comes at you so fast and so intensely sometimes that it can be easy to lose perspective. When you're trying to do your best for your family, excel at work, and cope with the unrelenting pace of change that has become a routine part of our modern world, sometimes little irritants can become infuriating, small obstacles seemingly insurmountable, and normally manageable situations turn into epic crises.

Ironically, the busier and more stressful life becomes, the more important it is to give yourself time to step back and attempt to put things into perspective. I haven't always been great at following this advice, but as more things vie for a slice of my attention, and the busier I've become over the years, I've found it necessary to develop some rituals that allow me to re-center and ground myself.

Every year on Veteran's Day, I take the opportunity to put my daily routine, and life in general, in better perspective by reflecting on the sacrifices that others have made and are making to ensure that our world is a safer and freer place. On this particular Veteran's Day, I thought that I would share a bit about my grandfather, who served in the United States Navy during World War II.

My maternal grandfather's name was Elwood Carroll Tibbs. He was 5' 6", and with the exception of his grandchildren, everyone who knew him called him Shorty. To his six grandchildren, he was Papa. He was a puckish bundle of energy, and carried himself with an almost-believable, stern demeanor that belied the fact that he was warm, gregarious, overwhelmingly generous, and was always ready for a little bit of mischief. What you might have mistaken for a stony glare on his face in an instant could become a warm smile and eyes sparkling with glee when he had gotten a good one over on you.

My grandfather enlisted in the Navy in the Spring of 1944 at the age of 23. He was assigned to the USS Oberrender, a Buckley Class Destroyer Escort ship whose role was to protect convoys travelling between Pearl Harbor and Eniwetok in the Pacific Theater. His first bit of serious action came on November 10th, 1944 when the Oberrender was damaged at dock in Seeadler Harbor, Manus Island when the munitions ship USS Mount Hood exploded 1100 feet away. My grandfather was a tinkerer, constantly taking things apart to see how they worked, and putting them back together in ways that usually improved them. This mechanical aptitude was put to good use in repairing the Oberrender, and my grandfather was promoted to Fireman 2nd class for this work.

A Fireman at that time in the Navy was a role that involved working on a ship's engines and auxiliary machinery. My grandfather spent most of his working hours on the Oberrender in the engine room, which almost cost him his life on May 9, 1945 when a bomb from a Kamikaze attack struck the Oberrender's boiler room adjacent to the engine room and exploded. Twenty four of my grandfather's crewmates were killed, and the Oberrender was damaged beyond repair.

My grandfather was discharged a year later, and returned home to Virginia in May of 1946. He met and wed my grandmother two years later in 1948, and as cliche as it might sound, they were happily married for 57 years until my grandfather passed away at the age of 83. (Seriously folks, this man flirted with my grandmother until the day he died and made sure that she and everyone else knew how much he loved her.) Shortly after they were married, they moved to Brookneal, Virginia, and made their living farming.

We never knew any of the details of my grandfather's military service. We knew that he was in the Navy, but I can't recall ever hearing him talk about that part of his life. We simply knew him as our Papa, who we were always happy to see, and who was always happy to see us. We were proud of him because of the cool, Rube-Goldberg-esque machines that he invented in his shop, most often to help him with the massive garden that he planted, tended, and harvested mostly by himself. We were proud of him because everyone, and I mean everyone, in Brookneal knew Shorty Tibbs. Folks knew him from his work as a church deacon. They knew him from the vegetables from his garden that he gave away to anyone with want or need. They knew him from his work at the small appliance repair shop that he ran from the time his kids were little, after losing his hand in a farm accident made it too difficult for him to earn a living farming.

We were mostly proud of our grandfather for his tireless generosity, how much he truly cared for the people in his life, and how he did things because they were right, not because they were easy or because he expected anything in return. Had we known more about his military service before he passed away, we would have shared our pride of him for those actions and sacrifices as well.

So when I'm looking for perspective, I know that nothing that I'm experiencing is anything like living through a world torn apart by a war in which 50-80 million people lost their lives. And I suspect that nothing I'll ever do will compare to the sacrifice and bravery of my grandfather, or my Dad who served in Vietnam, or any of the other soldiers who have fought and are fighting to keep me and my family free and safe. My heartfelt thanks and sincere gratitude go out to all of our veterans and active duty military personnel on this Veterans Day.

?Credit goes to my brother for meticulously researching my grandfather's service record.