Lawrence W. Jacobson, my father's first cousin, died on 10 February 1944, bravely fighting the Nazis. My father never mentioned him, and I had never heard of him until a couple of years ago. I doubt that anyone else is mentioning him, or thinking about him today, so I'll do it now.
"He who watches over you will not slumber or sleep."
May his memory be for a blessing.
Below is a poem I wrote, shortly after learning of Lawrence Jacobson's existence.
Lawrence
You were Dad's first cousin,
but he never mentioned you,
said little about James,
your father,
perhaps because you kept alive
what others let die.
On 10 February 1944
you traded Horton,
Kansas, for a bombing run
over Brunswick,
Germany, with the roaring
of the bomber's engines
in your ears.
You would not see
115 East 15th Street
again, nor the girl
you left behind.
They would give your
Service Number,
17128088,
an Air Medal
and a Purple Heart
that you
would never see.
The roaring
of the bomber's engines
has stopped.
10 February 1944
was a Thursday.
Sunrise: 06:12.
Sunset: none.
Donald Jacobson Traxler
Oct. 4 2018
Text © 2018-2020 by Donald C. Traxler aka Donald Jacobson Traxler.
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