Memorial Day Memories of Grandpa Burhop

I knew Vern Burhop from a very early age, or at least I knew who he was. My mom would sometimes call him in Chicago and ask him to bring home some special seafood item, like shrimp or lobster tail, which he would bring by our house before going home, about 3 blocks away.
     When I married his son, I enjoyed getting to know him better, most memorably when he helped me paint the porch on our newly purchased home 34 years ago. It was probably the first time I'd been alone with him for any period of time, and he told me about the war.
      Married and in the food industry, the government at first wanted him to stay home. Then as the war dragged on, he was called up, and joined the US Navy. His wife Janis followed him to various ports during his training, while Vern's retired father, Albert E. Burhop, returned to run the seafood business while Vern was gone.
     While Vern was doing his training, as a radio operator, Janis discovered that she was expecting their first child, Jeff, who was born while her husband was off fighting for his country. Before he left, Vern got Janis situated in an apartment in Evanston, just a few blocks from Evanston Hospital. (Janis told us that she practiced walking to the hospital, in case she had to get there on her own!)
     Vern was on a destroyer escort, a smaller ship that in storms would be buffeted around pretty badly. He told of a few occasions where he had to captain the ship, because he was the only one of the entire crew who never suffered from sea sickness. Perhaps being around all that fish his whole life made him less susceptible to mal de mer. Or he had super human inner ears.
     After the Allied victory, he spent time in China and  Japan before being shipped home to meet his one-year-old son. He said that was the hardest thing to bear, knowing he had a little boy who was learning to walk and talk and he'd never even met him. Meanwhile, Janis waited for her husband to come home, with the constant worry that he might not.
     Memorial Day was always important for Vern - his American flag hanging outside, perhaps a game of golf with his buddies at the Glenview Naval Air Station. Vern and Janis had a lovely back garden with a small swimming pool, and we would go there for a grilled fish fest, and if it was warm enough, a first dip of the summer. (The kids pretty much always thought it was warm enough.)
     When Vern died in 1995, it was of brain cancer, something we suspected might have been caused by his exposure to radiation in Japan after the war. Back then, no one fully understood the lingering effects of something you couldn't see.
     The sacrifices that our military make, and their families make, especially during war time, should be remembered every day, not just Memorial Day. But do something special for your favorite veteran next weekend - grill him or her a nice piece of fish!