My father served on the Essex-class aircraft carrier USS Wasp (CV-18) from 1959-1961. Last year I received a call from one of his fellow sailors who hadn't seen my father since he had left the Navy. After spending days trying to find the right Ralph DeMarco, he was very surprised and relieved to have found his former Navy buddy's son, rather than just another wrong number. This made the news of my father's recent death from cancer in February 2005 all the more difficult to tell him about. He took it rather well and was interested in talking to me about my father life since his Navy years. I didn't have the heart to tell him that my father's life had slowly unraveled after his was forced to resign from the Rye Police Department, and his divorce from my mother in the 1970s. His self-destruction reached its worst when, about eight years ago, he chose to be homeless rather than pay money for rent. The money he saved on rent was spent on alcohol and drugs. The last time I spoke to him, he was in the hospital suffering from frost-bite. So I told him how proud my father was of his service, and how much he enjoyed reminiscing about his buddies who served with him. Before the call ended he asked if he could call me back sometime and talk some more about my dad. I told him that he was welcome to call back. When a veteran of our armed forces dies, his family is issued an American flag, folded neatly and placed in a triangular shaped box frame. It's a reminder to me of my father's service, and all the men and women who have fought for our protection and freedom. They deserve our appreciation.
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