Day Three

I have to tell you, I am glad my dad isn't alive to see this oil spill and what it is doing to the Gulf Coast. He was born in Mississippi and grew up in Golden Meadows which is the last town before Grand Isle. He was in the oil business all his life. He died just before Katrina, which was probably also a good thing, because he and Mom never evacuated for a storm. (I can only imagine them on the second floor of our home in Lakewood South, trying to get into a pirogue.)

My dad was such a good guy. Oh, he had his faults (as we all do), but he was a good guy. He was generous to everyone, cried every Christmas when Mom opened her gifts, loved to fish, loved his buddies, especially his Marine buddies and spent his last years with his trains and working in the gardens of City Park. In fact, before he died, he donated his trains to the children's tracks at City Park. You should visit when you go to New Orleans, it's great.

Here are my words from his military funeral....

Everyone knows that my daddy was a Marine. What some of you don’t know is that when he joined up, he first tried the army, the navy and the coast guard. He was rejected by all because of a football injury to his knee. When he went for his Marine physical, he failed again. He started crying. The doctor said, "Son, if you want to be a Marine that bad, you’re in". So in April of 1943, he joined the U. S. Marine Corp, had basic training in San Diego and on Feb. 19, 1945 he landed on a tiny island in the Pacific, Iwo Jima. He served in the 5th Marine Division, E Company, 2nd Battalion, 27th Marine. His company had 350 men, including replacements, and only 32 of them walked off the island on March 28, 1945. And I am pleased and proud that four of the men in his company are here today, Mr. Leonard Nederveld, Mr. Leland Young, Mr. Hank Hernandez, Mr. Albert Pagoaga, and Mr. Leahmon McElveen, Jr. Dad was wounded and spent 3 days in an Army Hospital and subsequently received the purple heart. He returned to Hawaii and then served seven months in Japan. When he was discharged in California, he and four other soldiers hailed a cab and when the cabbie asked them" where to?" they said "New Orleans, LA.". The cabbie said "Hop in, I"ve always wanted to see New Orleans" and charged them $35 dollars each. Dad drove the cab most of the way and they made it in 4 ½ days..

In 1947, he was flying a small plane over Grand Isle LA and buzzed the boat a lady marine, Nitsy Rhodes was fishing in. She thought he was very obnoxious, and 6 months later they married and it’s been 57 years.. They moved to Fort Worth for a while and then to Houma, LA and had three daughters, Deborah, Corky and Rhett and finally, two boys, Jeff and John. Mom and Dad also have three wonderful grandsons and a beautiful granddaughter. I will say, all of our lives, we thought everyone had the "raising of the flag" in every room of their house. We thought everyone had fishing boats named "Gung Ho" and "Simper Fi". Growing up, we all knew the words to The Halls Of Montezuma....

Dad was an oilman his entire life. We moved to New Orleans in 1967. Dad started Rebstock Drilling Co in 1971 and retired in 1985. Retirement for Dad meant he could really have fun. The history channel played in our Den non-stop at a rather high volume. The history channel was occasionally replaced with "All in the Family" or "Seinfeld" or any movie that John Wayne ever made. Dad volunteered at City Park, working in the gardens. He became a wood worker.. He also began to collect LGB trains and built a raised track in the front and back yards of his home where he ran the trains every Xmas for all the kids in the neighborhood. Last December, he donated all of his trains to his beloved City Park. He decorated the yard with yard art which was so overdone, it was comical and the sad thing is it actually began to look good. He began talking to high school kids about Iwo Jima. He offhandedly mentioned to my mother, that some reporter had interviewed him. He didn’t make a big deal out of it and it wasn’t until she opened the Times Picayune that she saw his picture in color on the front page with a two page article about his experiences on Iwo. He was featured in three books, a magazine and numerous other articles. He was one of the main speakers representing the Marines in the Pacific when the National D Day Museum opened in New Orleans. He talked daily on the phone to all of his lifelong friends and his Marine buddies, attending every Marine reunion. He lunched with his buddies, was Post Commander of the American Legion and traveled on his bi-yearly European trips to visit the battle sites and graveyards of World War I and World War II with "The Happy Few". In fact, just four weeks ago, Dad returned from Europe from an 8 day trip with "The Happy Few" much to the amazement of his doctors who thought he couldn’t go. I am certain they didn’t realize just how gung ho Dad was!

Least you think Dad was perfect, he wasn’t. But near enough. And when he screwed up, he made us all laugh. Once Deborah cooked him some veal and she asked him how it was. He replied "Deborah I fought Japs on Iwo that weren’t as tough as this veal." When he found out he was ill, I took him to see his oncologist for the first time. First he had to attend an American Legion luncheon and when I went to pick him up, he was leaning against a column with that happy grin. So all the way there I was telling him it wasn’t good to arrive at your cancer doctor "overserved". When we got to the Doctor’s office, he goes in and immediately lays down on the table and is snoring. The doctor walks in and is a 5 foot 2 woman who looks 14 and has a wonderful foreign accent —which dad could not understand. She starts talking directly to him and he looks at me like she isn’t there and says "What she’s saying?". And I am trying to smile to the Doctor like everything is normal. Quite an experience. But Dr. Fuloria was a real trouper, and I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how much he loved his two doctors at Oschner, Dr. Fuloria, Dr. Hawkins and his nurse, Kim. Our family would also like to thank St Joseph hospice for their wonderful help in Dad’s last days. Finally, the last time Rhett took Dad to the hospital, he was very weak. Rhett very carefully asked him if he would like a wheelchair. He told her, "Rhett, a man always walks in like John Wayne".

In closing, on behalf of my mother and my sisters, brothers and sister-in-laws, I would like to thank all of the people who have been so kind to us in our time of sadness. I know Dad would be so proud to see all of his family and friends here. He was a Marine who fought in Iwo Jima, and that shaped his entire life. He was a hero to all.....And he was our Hero!

Corky Rebstock - April 28, 2004 -