Today is Memorial Day, Formerly known as Decoration Day, it commemorates U.S. men and women who perished while in military service to their country. First enacted to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War, it was expanded after World War I to include casualties of any war or military action.
Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery.
Growing up in Central Oregon, Memorial Day, much like Veterans Day, was just another holiday that gave us a day off from school and a chance to play outside, have a BBQ or go camping in the woods. It really held no significance to me at the time since we didn’t really have or know of anyone who perished while serving their country.
Fast forwarding to today, a lot has changed since the 1980’s. The biggest change in my life is arguably the locating of my birth families and discovering the legacy they have left behind. My grandpa, who just turned 91 years old this year, is a former Filipino Scout and US Army Captain. He was a POW during WWII and part of the atrocious Bataan Death March where he was able to escape with his life, but not after witnessing his two brothers succumb to death at the hands of the Japanese. He was also a part of the Korean War where he served on behalf of the US Army based out of Fort Hood, TX.
My grandpa had 8 children, seven girls and one boy, the oldest name Eulalio Arzaga Jr. who was born on April 9, 1942, ironically this was the same day that Japan invaded the Philippines. After General McArthur liberated the Philippines, many Filipino solders, including my grandfather was absorbed into the US Army. In 1951, along with his wife and now 5 children, they came to the US through San
Francisco and made their way to Camp Campbell in Arkansas where they stayed briefly before moving to Killeen Texas, home of the largest Army base in the free world, know as Fort Hood.
While growing up in the military town of Killen, Eulalio Jr., or Junior as he was known to everyone (expect his sisters who knew him simply as brother) aspired to serve his country and opted to join the Air Force after graduating from the University of Texas. While in the Air Force he rose to the level of Captain where he was a pilot with the 86 MAS out of Travis AFB. This was during the Viet Nam war and he spent much of his time flying between Vietnam and the United States.
Tragedy struck on November 25, 1970 when Ely’s plane, a F-4 Phantom, malfunctioned while landing and he was ejected from the plane killing him upon impact. He was flown back to Killen Texas and laid to rest by his parents and 7 sisters. His name, along with 12 others from Killeen who died during the Vietnam War was added to a memorial honoring the brave solders from Killeen who died serving their country.
11 months before his untimely death, Junior became a father of a baby boy. He was not aware of the actual birth as the mother, a nurse in the Army who was to be wed to him, got cold feet and called the wedding off. She then traversed her way up to Oregon where she gave birth to a boy who was immediately given up for adoption.
After his death, Junior’s sisters began a nationwide search for the runaway bride in hopes of tracking her down and locating the child that she gave birth to. Unfortunately for them their leads never panned out and they were unable to locate her.
Fast forward 30 years later to Oregon, where the voters approved a bill that allowed Adoptees access to their pre-adoption birth certificates. Junior’s son, being one of the adoptees was able to obtain his pre-adoption birth certificate. Regrettably it only contained the name of his birth mother as the birth fathers name was left blank. To keep a long story short, he was able to track down his birth mother and subsequently track down his birth family on his father’s side.
It was a glorious and bitter sweet reunion when the long lost son reunited with his birth fathers family. He was able to finally reunite with his Filipino family who embraced him with arms wide open. It was especially memorable for Eulalio Sr, who has lost his only son in the Viet Nam war to be reunited with a grandson. For you see, at this time, there was no one to carry on the family name as both of his brothers died in the Bataan Death March and his only son died on Thanksgiving Day in 1970.
It was during this reunion, that Junior’s son, along with his birth mother, was able to finally visit his father’s grave site. This was the first and last time the three of them would ever be together.
As you probably know by now, the boy who was born to Eulalio Jr., the one that Junior’s sisters spend countles
s hours search for, the only one who could carry on the family name is me.
I still remember the day that I found my birth family only to learn that my father died when I was only 11 months old. It was a day of mixed emotions. I had finally found my family, only to discover that my birth father, the person I most wanted to meet and talk to, was dead. It wasn’t until I visited his grave site that the full impact of my emotions hit me. It felt good to cry that day, something I don’t often do. There are so many questions I would have liked to ask him and stories I would have loved to hear from him. For just one moment I would have loved to see his face and his smile as he gazed upon me. To have him hold me in his arms to let me know how much he missed me and how happy he was to finally meet me.
But that will never happen. The cold reality is that he has passed on and as he lays next to his mother in a cemetery in Killeen Texas I am comforted by the fact that he is survived by 6 sisters and one terrific father (and one run-away bride) who have been able to tell me stories about him.
So on this day, Memorial Day, I set aside time to think of the father I never met, who unselfishly gave his life for this country. Thank you for protecting my country and thank you for giving me life. I will always miss you.
I love you.
Joseph Roley-Arzaga Sr.
Memorial Day, May 26, 2008