My maternal grandfather, Gerald Yoder, passed away when my mother was just a child. A veteran of World War II, he remained on active duty after the war, and passed away from lung cancer only five years later. Unfortunately, his military records were destroyed in a fire, so I don’t know much about his service. He’s buried in a military cemetery in El Paso, TX.
Reflections of Leilani Kaalo Ruland
My father was a soldier. I never saw him in any other clothes. I was born in Hawaii. He gave me my name. He went off to war when I was three. He came home when I was seven. I was lucky to have him four more years. He never talked about those war years. At home he stacked his beer cans and smoked those Lucky Stripes like they were candy. He taught me to play Rummy. I only beat him once. Lung cancer took him away when I was eleven. I didn’t get to say goodbye. Hospital rule was no visiting under age fourteen. I have his flag with only 48 stars on it. I have his dog tag. I miss him every day.
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