I’ve had a “to do” list of a few things that I was bound and determined to carry out as part of our motor coach touring of the country. Since our initial run up the Eastern seaboard to Pennsylvania and back (visit the parents, show off the new coach to family) we have mainly been hanging out hiding from winter in Florida and seeing our home state first so to speak. We haven’t really had a chance to knock much off the list at all. So yesterday was a great day as number one on the official list was accomplished- and wonderfully so!
From our area base at Tampa East, we traveled perhaps some 30 miles or so to Pinellas. Our mission for the day, was to try to locate Col. Neil Coady. Back in WWII, Neil Coady and another fellow POW of my dad’s by the name of Fred Puckett carried him on a forced march in the snow from one Stalag to the next. When he was shot down in his B-17, my dad’s back had been broken so he was in pretty tough shape to begin with. Finally the march became too much for him and he fell to the side of the road where, presumably, the enemy would either just let him die or perhaps even worse, sic the dogs on him. And as dad recounts it, he was prepared to die that day. He certainly did not intend to become an additional burden to the other guys who were marching in the worst of conditions just to stay alive. But Neil Coady was having none of that! He and Fred picked up my dad and carried him along, arm over shoulder, feet dragging when they could not walk. A slice of bread he had along the way, he put on my dad’s chest when there was an opportunity to rest and he told my dad, “Don’t worry. It will be there when you wake up.” It was.
But my aim is not to tell their story- only enough of it for you to understand that what I was doing was looking for the man who saved my dad’s life. And along with that, I was looking for the man, without who’s heroics in the war, I would never have come into the world at all myself.
I was a bit apprehensive when we pulled up to the address where we hoped to either locate Neil or learn of his condition and whereabouts. We were arriving unexpected and unannounced and surprise visits are not always the happiest of meetings. A strikingly attractive woman answered the door and I introduced myself to her and began to tell her why we were knocking on her door. My name had apparently not registered anything in particular (nor should it have) but as I started to explain that Neil Coady had carried my dad as a prisoner, her eyes lit up and I could see that she had heard the story and knew exactly what I was talking about. We were invited in immediately.
Inside stood Neil Coady (US Air Force, Col., retired). First order of business was to shake hands and thank the man for everything he had done for my dad….and of course my mother and my sister and me. Immediately I was passed the fear that he may already have gone the way of so many of the WWII vets and departed this world already. For Air Force men, the Wild Blue Yonder has always and will always be special, but no hurry to take that final flight! I entered that house that day with no preconceived idea of what I might learn or what I might see. But standing before me was a man, now in his mid-eighties, who I will tell you, in order for you to have some measure of the man at this age, immediately reminded me of both Ronald Reagan and Charleton Heston. Handsome. Strong and fit looking. Sharp and alert and articulate and instantly recalling “those days.“ Not looking nearly old enough to have done what we know he did for my dad. It was easy for me to see that this man could have accomplished all that he did.
I asked permission to take a couple photos. Granted. I asked if he would mind if I got my cell phone so we could call home and he and my dad could speak together. Granted.
We got to know each other just a bit. No desire to overstay any welcome. Saw some pictures and looked at walls of framed medals and uniforms and military memorabilia. Put my parents e mail and phone numbers etc. into the Coady’s computer for safe keeping. It felt like home to me. And in a way, I suppose it is.
Col. Coady: My family and I salute you, sir!
From our area base at Tampa East, we traveled perhaps some 30 miles or so to Pinellas. Our mission for the day, was to try to locate Col. Neil Coady. Back in WWII, Neil Coady and another fellow POW of my dad’s by the name of Fred Puckett carried him on a forced march in the snow from one Stalag to the next. When he was shot down in his B-17, my dad’s back had been broken so he was in pretty tough shape to begin with. Finally the march became too much for him and he fell to the side of the road where, presumably, the enemy would either just let him die or perhaps even worse, sic the dogs on him. And as dad recounts it, he was prepared to die that day. He certainly did not intend to become an additional burden to the other guys who were marching in the worst of conditions just to stay alive. But Neil Coady was having none of that! He and Fred picked up my dad and carried him along, arm over shoulder, feet dragging when they could not walk. A slice of bread he had along the way, he put on my dad’s chest when there was an opportunity to rest and he told my dad, “Don’t worry. It will be there when you wake up.” It was.
But my aim is not to tell their story- only enough of it for you to understand that what I was doing was looking for the man who saved my dad’s life. And along with that, I was looking for the man, without who’s heroics in the war, I would never have come into the world at all myself.
I was a bit apprehensive when we pulled up to the address where we hoped to either locate Neil or learn of his condition and whereabouts. We were arriving unexpected and unannounced and surprise visits are not always the happiest of meetings. A strikingly attractive woman answered the door and I introduced myself to her and began to tell her why we were knocking on her door. My name had apparently not registered anything in particular (nor should it have) but as I started to explain that Neil Coady had carried my dad as a prisoner, her eyes lit up and I could see that she had heard the story and knew exactly what I was talking about. We were invited in immediately.
Inside stood Neil Coady (US Air Force, Col., retired). First order of business was to shake hands and thank the man for everything he had done for my dad….and of course my mother and my sister and me. Immediately I was passed the fear that he may already have gone the way of so many of the WWII vets and departed this world already. For Air Force men, the Wild Blue Yonder has always and will always be special, but no hurry to take that final flight! I entered that house that day with no preconceived idea of what I might learn or what I might see. But standing before me was a man, now in his mid-eighties, who I will tell you, in order for you to have some measure of the man at this age, immediately reminded me of both Ronald Reagan and Charleton Heston. Handsome. Strong and fit looking. Sharp and alert and articulate and instantly recalling “those days.“ Not looking nearly old enough to have done what we know he did for my dad. It was easy for me to see that this man could have accomplished all that he did.
I asked permission to take a couple photos. Granted. I asked if he would mind if I got my cell phone so we could call home and he and my dad could speak together. Granted.
We got to know each other just a bit. No desire to overstay any welcome. Saw some pictures and looked at walls of framed medals and uniforms and military memorabilia. Put my parents e mail and phone numbers etc. into the Coady’s computer for safe keeping. It felt like home to me. And in a way, I suppose it is.
Col. Coady: My family and I salute you, sir!
Col Coady and his wife Elisabeth reside near the base where he was stationed many times when in the states. If you are interested in the base or the area, try the following link:
http://public.macdill.amc.af.mil/
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