Random acts of kindness

Some days are better than others. In fact, some days are really good.

Maybe this is the Lord's way of providing all of us with some sort of coping mechanism. I don't know. But random acts of kindness always bring a smile.

This weekend's mail brought one of those unexpected – and appreciated – acts of kindness.

A few weeks ago, a lady named Abby Robinson e-mailed a request for a story we had published in April 2010 about World War II veteran and Samantha native Lester Paul Penn.

Mr. Penn is a U.S. Marine Corps veteran of World War II. He graduated from McClain High School in May 1944.

As the late Cliff Chamblin wrote in April 2010, Mr. Penn received a notice from the Highland County Draft Board to report for active duty in the Armed Forces immediately following graduation. His father asked the draft board for a deferment because his two brothers, Glen and Leo, had already been drafted and were in the service (reminds me of "Saving Private Ryan"), and there was no one left to help on the farm.

The draft board gave Paul a six-month deferment. He entered the United States Marine Corps on Dec. 16, 1944.

After receiving Abby's request for Mr. Penn's story – which we happily fulfilled – I had the opportunity to revisit Cliff's story. (You can read his story in its entirety by clicking on the related link at the end of this column.)

Mr. Penn went to Columbus to Fort Hayes for orientation, then on to Cincinnati where he, along with several others, boarded a train for Parris Island, S.C. for 12 weeks of basic training.

"We had a platoon sergeant by the name of Sgt. Abel," Mr. Penn told Cliff. "He was mean as the devil and would tear into you at any time. I was accused of something I didn't do, and he came up to me and stepped on my shoe – which I had just shined – and ripped me good.

"Rather than get into any more trouble, I just stood real rigid and didn't say anything. I thought about that later and wondered if he was trying me to see if I would retaliate, the reason being that I was going to a special school and he might have wanted to see if I would break."

Mr. Penn didn't break.

After basic training, he was assigned to infantry school in North Carolina, then on to San Diego Marine Base for Sea School.

The Marines were then sent to Oakland, where they picked up more troops and boarded a troop transport and sailed for Hawaii.

"When we sailed from Oakland, we went under the Golden Gate Bridge," Mr. Penn said. "It looked like we wouldn't be able to go under it, but when we got to it, there was plenty of room. We stood on deck and watched as it faded in the distance, realizing that this was the last time we would see our beloved United States of America for quite some time."

Mr. Penn would go on to serve in the Pacific Theater of Operations.

"What devastation we saw," he said. "I had a chance for liberty while I was here, and knowing I had an uncle who was working for the government as a painter and might be there at Pearl, I went to several places where people were working for the government. I saw a man who was working as a civilian and asked him if he might know of a man by the name of Fred Penn. He said, 'He is sitting right over there eating his lunch.'

"I walked up to my Uncle Fred, and when he looked up and saw me, he said, 'What in the world are you doing here?' Well, we had quite a reunion. He was always a favorite uncle."

We'll leave the rest of Mr. Penn's story – as well as Cliff Chamblin's wonderful telling of it. As I said, it's available online at www.highlandcountypress.com.

We mailed one of the last remaining copies of the April 2010 print edition of this story to Abby Robinson, who happened to share with me that her dad was a pressman and he appreciated newspapermen. I liked that.

As I told Abby this week, as a former pressman myself, I was a member of the Master Printers of America several years before I had my first byline.

Cliff Chamblin also was a pressman and a newspaperman. Cliff was a U.S. Army veteran of the Korean War and a fine gentleman. He had a special talent for interviewing and writing about World War II veterans and he shared many of those stories with Highland County over the years.

Sadly, his column on Mr. Penn proved to be his last.

Cliff wrote about Mr. Penn in April 2010. He left us all too soon on July 14, 2010.

Because of Abby's recent inquiry, I had a good reason to go back and re-read some of Cliff's writings.

He always ended his World War II veterans' stories with something like: "Thanks to Paul and many other thousands of men and women who served during World War II. We are forever grateful that because of you, we are free today in the United States of America. May we never forget the sacrifice that was given by these Veterans of World War Two. God bless them, and God bless America!"

Indeed.

This past weekend, I received a wonderful note and a stained-glass vase from Abby Robinson. While I rarely accept gifts of any kind, I am making an exception this time. And since I am no longer a member of the Southern State Community College Board of Trustees, I will not have to reference it on my 2012 financial disclosure statement to the Ohio Ethics Commission. How about that!

Thanks again, Abby, for your very nice act of kindness. And thank you, Mr. Penn, for your patriotic service to this great nation. I'm sure Cliff would be happy to know that his stories still resonate.

Rory Ryan is publisher of The Highland County Press.