Richard Emmons Rasmussen
My dad and I had a weird relationship when I was growing up. He was, unequivocally, one of the most decent, honorable people I have ever met. I learned a lot from him; some from what he said to me directly, but mostly from his demeanor. I think that my flattened emotional personality is mostly from my modeling his behavior; that, and the fact that I have learned, over time, that keeping my mouth shut in the public space is best for all involved. He was, like me, a homebody as well, except for his interest in high school sports and high school band. I remember being dragged to high school basketball games before I could say “no”. I had a similar experience with “band”. I remember lugging my trombone to private lessons even in the summer. The fact that I got a job at 15 and a car at 16 took care of these two problems. Dad enjoyed high school whereas I chaffed under the authority of it. The school district and my parents thought they knew best what I should be doing. I disagreed. My father and I disagreed more when I attended Arizona State University where I made such a muck of it that I was allowed to come home.
My dad came from Norwegian/Danish stock. Unlike my mother’s side which showed up in the United State around 1650, Dad’s arrived much later. Mom’s side was in farming. Dad’s was in small business. The Emmons name came from his mother Clara’s father who owned a dry goods store. Dad’s father’s name was Anton (as is my grandson). Tony was the postmaster of Forest City, Iowa. He was an absolute stitch and the only relative that I remember getting on the floor and playing with me. I will reminisce about the grandfather who was alive while I grew up in another post.
Dad was a pilot flying B-24 Bombers in World War II. He was stationed in the 15th Air Force, 455 bomb group located in Italy after the Italians switched sides. Now, that plane was a bruiser of a 4 engine bomber. The B-24 had a shoulder-mounted high aspect ratio Davis wing. This wing was highly efficient allowing a relatively high airspeed and long range. Compared to the B-17, it had a 6 feet (1.8 m) larger wingspan but a lower wing area. This gave the B-24 a 35-percent higher wing loading. It had the nickname of the “Flying Coffin” due to the fact that it was nearly impossible for the majority of the crew to escape in an emergency. In Dad’s 50 missions he crash landed 3 times and survived. This occued at the age of 22. He received the Distinguished Flying Cross.
Upon return he was diagnosed with Tuberculosis and spent a year at the Oakdale TB sanitarium. He credited Mom with saving his life. I don’t think he pressed his luck the rest of his life.
He had the nickname “Hermetically Sealed” and saved $2,000 while getting shot at in a plane that had a somewhat dubious safety record.
