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Chicago Tribune
8 hours ago
- General
- Chicago Tribune
La Grange hero's legacy lives as story of American Legion post namesake is shared with new generations
On February 1, 1943, a 28-year-old graduate of Lyons Township High School was scheduled to relax on one of his rare days off as an Army Air Corps bomber pilot in the European Theater during World War II. But one of the pilots scheduled to fly that day was sick, and someone had to take his place. So he volunteered. That selfless act cost Major Robert E. Coulter Jr. his life. He's memorialized in the name of La Grange's Robert E. Coulter Jr. American Legion Post 1941, but Bill Kiddon, post commander, wants to make sure the story of his heroism isn't lost to the passage of time. 'Probably the first generation or two of legionnaires know of his story,' Kiddon said during a May 22 presentation to the La Grange Area Historical Society. 'But today's generation of legionnaires don't know this story.' Kiddon spoke for 45 minutes to about 50 people at the Historical Society's Vial House Museum, 444 S. La Grange Road. The presentation included footage of air combat between American B-17s and Luftwaffe fighters filmed by an embedded Air Corps journalist. The recording included the scene of a badly damaged bomber plummeting to the ground as two parachuted flyers escape. Coulter attended Ogden Avenue School and graduated from Lyons Township High School two years ahead of his sister. He went on to earn an engineering degree from Purdue University. Kiddon related how Coulter, in October 1942, was among the first pilots to fly unescorted bombing missions, because the fighter planes at the time didn't have the fuel capacity to accompany long range bombing missions. He logged 25 missions, a marker used by the Army when pilots could be relieved of active duty. But Coulter refused to rotate out of combat. He flew 35 missions in all, bombing Nazi submarine pens, destroying a Nazi U-boat base, and leading critical bombing missions in North Africa that helped prevent the Nazis from seizing critical oil fields. 'On February 1, 1943, he was not supposed to fly that day,' Kiddon said. 'When he got down to the briefing room, he found out there was another pilot that didn't get out of the infirmary and couldn't fly. He was grounded that day, so Coulter volunteered. He said 'I'll go up.'' After completing a successful bombing run over North Africa. Coulter's plane was hit head on by a Messerschmitt Me 109. While nobody will ever know what caused the Luftwaffe pilot to steer directly into the formation, the collision ripped off one of the bomber's wings, causing it to spiral downward in flames. Three crew members — the bombardier, navigator and gunner — parachuted to safety and wound up in a German prisoner of war camp. It wasn't until August, 1943 that the wreckage of the B-17 was found just off the shoreline of the Mediterranean Sea. It wasn't until then that Coulter's family got the telegram dreaded by so many families during the war, that their son was no longer missing in action, but killed in action. Coulter wasn't the only family member to contribute to the war effort. His father, a member of the Federal Reserve, was involved in the war bond drive. His mother wrapped bandages for the Red Cross and then became chairperson of Red Cross fundraising and his sister married another pilot. 'It was a family of service,' Kiddon said. 'They all pitched in — not unusual for the Greatest Generation.' Kiddon noted that Coulter was keenly aware of world affairs in the late 1930s as Nazis rose to power in Germany. 'He told his parents 'we're going to war,' and wound up enlisting in the Army Air Corps in 1939, around the same time Hitler invaded Poland,' Kiddon said. 'He was trained to be a pilot in Texas, and ultimately flew the famous B-17 Flying Fortress.' Within three years, Coulter was piloting a B-17 in Europe. As was the custom in those days, Coulter's plane had what came to be called 'nose art' on the front of the plane. His was 'Bat Outta Hell.' Kiddon stressed that the story of Coulter, and all the other pilots in the war, was also a story about the B-17 Flying Fortress and the challenges that came with serving in one. 'This was not a pressurized airplane,' Kiddon said. 'At 25,000 feet, it was 10 below zero; at 35,000 feet, it's 40 below zero. And this plane flew at 35,000-feet, with no bathrooms and no heat.' Kiddon said the Boeing Company built 12,700 B-17s during the war — at its peak, averaging 16 per day — and roughly 80% of the warbirds were built by women. Among those listening to the presentation were Tim and Kathy Calvert, who found out they live in the former Coulter family home on North Waiola Avenue. 'We were traveling and came home and somebody had left an article on our front porch,' Kathy said. 'If you go up our stairs, up to the attic — we have a walk-up attic — the initials R.E.C. are carved into the side,' Tim said 'It's kind of an honor to live there.' Robert Coulter's niece, Bonnie Williams, born six weeks after he died, was on hand to share family memories. 'It affects the whole family, the whole community, everybody who knew him, when somebody dies like this,' she said. Her uncle's legacy always resonated in their family. 'When they spoke of him, they spoke of all the wonderful memories,' she said. 'There was never any sadness or remorse or regret. They were very proud of him. I can't imagine losing a son, but it was a different time. He was a good person.' But even for Coulter's family, the efforts of Kiddon and the American Legion to keep his legacy alive are essential. 'To put it all together brought the whole thing to life, things that we didn't know,' Williams said. 'I learned more last year when he did the first presentation than I ever knew about it.'
Yahoo
4 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
Illinois man has spent 40 years rebuilding a WWII-era B-17 bomber in his barn
A man in Marengo, Illinois, is on a mission to fully restore a World War II-era B-17 bomber—a project he's been diligently working on in a roadside barn for the past 40 years. A lifelong aviation enthusiast, Mike Kellner began his journey in high school after hearing that a junkyard in Maine was looking to offload the abandoned remains of the historic bomber. The asking price was '$7,000 or best offer' for a collection of disassembled parts. Kellner loaded the 75-foot aluminum behemoth onto a house trailer (he had to extend it by about 10 feet) and hauled it halfway across the country with a pickup truck. It's lived in his barn ever since. Kellner shared the decades-long story of his restoration project with local outlet WGN earlier this week. And unlike many World War II-era roadside relics, this one isn't just collecting dust. Kellner has spent countless hours working to restore the plane to its former glory, performing his own repairs, adding finishing touches, and tracking down an array of rare and hard-to-find parts. Word of his efforts spread, attracting other aviation enthusiasts who have volunteered their time over the years to assist with the restoration. Kellner documents the entire process on a Facebook page, which features thousands of update posts dating back to 2010. He doesn't just want the project to be something pretty to look at—he wants it to fly. 'It is a piece of history, and I would like the opportunity to fly it,' Kellner told WGN. Popular Science reached out to Kellner for more details but has not heard back. The B-17 was the most iconic bomber used by the US military during the second World War. Its origin actually traces back a decade earlier to 1934, when the Army Air Corps approached Boeing with an ask to design and develop a massive plane capable of carrying bombs at 10,000 feet and for more than 10 hours. The military wanted a new breed of bomber that would be able to travel beyond enemy lines at great distances and drop bombs with precision. It needed to be able to reach altitudes high enough to fly outside of the range of enemy antiaircraft artillery. The eventual B-17 featured a state-of-the-art Norden bombsight to maintain accuracy even at extreme altitudes. Early versions of the B-17 entered production in 1937, but manufacturing ramped up significantly after the U.S. officially entered World War II in 1941. The bomber that eventually flew missions behind enemy lines featured four engines—a major upgrade from the then-standard two—and was equipped with a smattering of gun turrets, including ones in the nose, upper fuselage, and tail. This cornucopia of munitions, combined with the aircraft's mammoth size, earned it the nickname 'Flying Fortress.' The B-17 currently being resurrected in Kellner's barn reportedly carries two names. One, 'Desert Rat,' is painted in bold yellow lettering on the aircraft's exterior. The other, 'Tangerine,' was discovered later, scrawled somewhere inside the unclear how much longer Kellner will need to make his dream of flying the Desert Rat a reality. The task seems like a daunting one for someone working part-time on a shoestring budget but then again, few would have likely predicted he would have made it this far to begin with. You can keep up with all of Kellner's progress by following his official Facebook page here.
Yahoo
26-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Stones River National Battlefield, Cemetery host events throughout Memorial Day weekend
MURFREESBORO, Tenn. (WKRN) — The Stones River National Battlefield and Cemetery in Murfreesboro held a series of events over Memorial Day weekend to honor fallen U.S. military personnel. The Stones River National Battlefield is a significant historical site that commemorates the Battle of Stones River, which was one of the bloodiest conflicts of the Civil War, according to the National Park Service. Every year, the battlefield and the Stones River National Cemetery dedicate Memorial Day weekend to remembering the ones who sacrificed their lives for America. 'Yesterday, we had almost 500 youth, scouts, and families come out and they placed flags on all the 7,100 or so graves in the cemetery,' Park Ranger Jim Lewis said. There's a specific way to fly your US flag on Memorial Day: What to know The ceremony on Sunday, May 25 allowed people to pause, honor all the sacrifices made, and remember the stories not just from people buried in the cemetery, but throughout history. 'We can share these stories with people, particularly on days like Memorial Day when the focus really hardens on the terrible sacrifices that are made,' Lewis said. On Sunday, there were veterans and family members of veterans, like Andrea Calfee. 'I had a much older brother who joined the Army Air Corps in 1944 when he graduated from high school in New York,' Calfee said. What stores, restaurants are open for Memorial Day 2025? Calfee said her husband also served. He was in the Navy. According to Calfee, she has a passion for veterans because of her family ties to the military. She said she looks forward to the Memorial Day ceremony every year: 'It's a beautiful sight when you're driving by.' The Stones River National Cemetery invites people to come out on Monday, May 26 to continue the Memorial Day observance. The cemetery will be open until 7 p.m. that night. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
CBS News
26-05-2025
- General
- CBS News
Livermore WWII airman shot down honored on Memorial Day weekend after returning home
As America honors its fallen warriors on Memorial Day, one WWII airman has been returned to his hometown of Livermore. His story is now known because of a family that refused to take missing for an answer. As the hearse rolled down the dusty road of the cemetery, 81 years after his death, 2nd Lt. Thomas Vincent Kelly was coming home. Thomas Kelly, known as Tommy to his friends, grew up in Livermore and enlisted in the Army Air Corps in Aug 1942. He became a bombardier aboard a B-24 bomber, nicknamed Heaven Can Wait, that flew more than 30 missions. On March 11, 1944, his crew was assigned to attack anti-aircraft positions in Hansa Bay, a remote area of Papua, New Guinea. As they approached the target, the aircraft was hit by anti-aircraft fire and went down. The family received only a four-sentence letter reporting the death, with no other information. "It became, I think, a kind of grief that could only be dealt with in silence," said Scott Althaus, Kelly's second cousin. "And so, the memory of Tommy was a forbidden topic within the family." But Althaus said many years later, they discovered something else written about that day. "Fifty years after these events, a letter from a person in the plane opposite my relative recalled that the co-pilot faced the other two planes and saluted as their plane banked down into the water. They knew that they were going down," he said. "So, the big focus for our family was to try to find what happened. And it took us four years of research and eventually we came to have a clear understanding of what happened on March 11, 1944." Over the years, Althaus began devoting his Memorial Days to researching the crash, and eventually, he began to pinpoint the area where the plane probably went down. That's when the family took action. "An aunt of mine, on her own initiative, decided to reach out to Project Recover and say, 'Hey, our family has been doing some research. We think we know where this plane is in Papua, New Guinea. Would you be interested in hearing about what we've found?'" said Althaus. "And, surprisingly, they said, 'Yes.'" Project Recover is an organization dedicated to locating and recovering service members missing in action. They put together a team of divers to survey the area identified by the family and after 17 days of searching, they found the wreckage of Heaven Can Wait. It was sitting in 200 feet of water, and a Navy dive operation was able to recover the remains of the crew members. And so, on Sunday in Livermore, with all his family's questions now answered, Tommy was no longer missing. "Lt. Kelly, today we honor your service, your sacrifice and commitment," said Camp Parks Commander, Lt. Col. Richard King. "We mourn the loss as a family, a community and as a grateful nation." At the ceremony, Althaus thanked all the people who, despite being strangers, helped in the recovery of their fallen loved one. "For his family gathered today, it's almost indescribable what this is going to mean for us," he said. "This whole part of our family's journey started on Memorial Day, 2013 and it is going to conclude on Memorial Day of 2025, exactly 12 years to the day." Memorial Day is about remembering the individual sacrifices of those who died in wartime. But that's something that's never quite known for those who simply go missing. Lt. Thomas Vincent Kelly will be laid to rest at the new Monte Vista Memorial Gardens cemetery in Livermore. Plans are already underway for a veteran's memorial to be named in his honor.
Chicago Tribune
24-05-2025
- General
- Chicago Tribune
Letters: Father's diary provides a window in World War II
My dad was 30 years old and in the Army Air Corps when his troop transport sailed from New York Harbor in August 1942 to join a convoy headed for the Mediterranean Theater — first to North Africa, then later to Italy. He was the main breadwinner of the family, which included his mother, his pregnant wife (my mom) and his six younger siblings. I'm sure many men had similar family experiences to deal with. After arriving in Italy, Dad was put in charge of a group, mostly mechanics, at a hangar in an airfield and kept track of the parts and supplies needed to repair the planes that landed there. The airfield was generally a few miles behind the front, so as the front moved, the men had to disassemble, then reassemble the hangar. Needless to say it was a grim place with all of the crash landings on and off the field. Dad was struck by how young the pilots were, in their early 20s, but full of vim, vigor and guts. The things they saw, no one should see. In the fall of 1944, Dad contracted hepatitis and was hospitalized for several months in Rome when he got the terrible news that his only brother, 19-year-old Phil, was shot in the Battle of the Bulge near Nancy, France, and lived for 10 days before dying. My grandmother got the news on Christmas Eve. I can't imagine how she, our family, and I'm sure other families who lost loved ones, dealt with that. Dad came back stateside on a hospital ship, which he referred as the ship of horrors, with hundreds of wounded men. The medical staff was very overworked, and he tried his best to help some of the men eat, write a letter or just talk with them. Unfortunately, by the time the ship landed in New York Harbor in the winter of 1945, Dad had had a relapse. He was sent to a hospital in Spokane. He recuperated for 10 more months before he was finally reunited with his family in Chicago. We are so grateful he kept a daily diary from the time he left the States till the day he returned. Besides celebrating Memorial Day soon, this September, my Uncle Phil would have turned 100, and some of our family will visit his gravesite to honor him and all the other young men, and would-be dads, who gave their lives for our you for the touching account of the Azizi family's journey to West Ridge (''I think it's here,'' May 18). Zareen Syed's detailed yet understated narrative, accompanied by John J. Kim's superb photos, bring to mind the classic Life Magazine era of journalism. I am reminded of my grandmother's journey to Chicago just over a century ago after a harrowing encounter with antisemitic soldiers in Pinsk, Belarus, not yet 18 and with no English under her belt. By the time the rest of her family could leave, quotas under the Johnson-Reed Act of 1924 forced them to look elsewhere, so they ended up in Argentina, and my grandmother saw her mother and siblings only one more time. That the entire Azizi family was able to come to Chicago to support one another is wonderful. The sinister flip side, of course, is that many such families, just as lovely and deserving, may not be able to make it to safety in Chicago or anywhere else due to the irrational and mean-spirited cancellation of refugee programs and the Special Immigrant Visa program in particular. Again, going back to the last century, one can't help contemplating the fate of those stranded in Eastern Europe due to U.S. resistance to relaxing immigration quotas in the face of impending doom. Families like the Azizis are extraordinarily brave, resourceful and decent, and there is room for many, many more of them in this vast usually astute and insightful architecture critic, Edward Keegan, badly misfired in my view in his May 18 article 'Pope Leo XIV's childhood home an example of the ordinary architecture Chicago does well.' I attribute this to a severe case of Pope Leo XIV mania. Many have understandably succumbed to it. But, please, it's time to sober up. I think it's absurd to compare this very, very modest Dolton house to a building such as H.H. Richardson's Marshall Field Wholesale Store. Even worse is to link it to the work of Mies van der Rohe. To describe Mies' work as 'ordinary' is grotesque. Here are some of the best words to describe his work: simple, clean, clear, pure and, above all, elegant. Mies' work is the opposite of 'ordinary.'On Monday evening, I had the pleasure of attending a high school commencement in the northern suburbs. I left two hours later very impressed with not only the dignity of the evening, but also the maturity of the student commencement speakers. They articulated wonderful thoughts and concerns for the future and also a retrospective of the past. They were talking to the entire gymnasium and not just to their peers. They sincerely offered credit for their success to their parents and educators. If these two kids are indicative of even a small percentage of all high school graduates, then there is hope that our country will be successful.
