MARCIA McKNIGHT

I am of Belgium descent, and because of Richard's career in the Air Force, we were lucky enough to be assigned to Germany on an accompanied tour. This meant that our whole family could travel with Richard to Germany and live for three years. While there, we took a side-trip to Belgium while my mother, father, and sister were there for a visit. We drove to Belgium and we got to see where my family came from. My grandfather, Alfons, was in the Allied Army in WWI. My grandmother, who was from Deinza in Belgium, evidently survived being gassed at some time during that war. I don't know if they were bombed or what happened.

We had a delightful visit, and I learned a great deal I had not known about my family. Dad could understand some of the Flemish language they spoke. My cousin, Karla, interpreted for us, and her father, Andre, asked Dad if we wanted to go to see Aunt Victoria, my mother's sister. Dad thought she had passed away, so he said, "You mean the grave plot." "No, Aunt Victoria is 92, but still alive." She was a nun and lived in a cloister, which is a home for elderly nuns.

Camilla

During our visit, she told us some of the family history that even my father didn't know. Her sister Camilla, my grandmother, was supposed to become a nun as Aunt Victoria did, but, as Aunt Victoria said, "Not everybody has the calling." In light of that development, her parents, my great-grandparents, arranged a marriage to a gentleman already in America. I don't know if he was of Belgium descent, or whether her parents or the intended groom paid her fare, but she did arrive. She didn't care for the gentleman they had selected, somehow met my grandfather, and married him instead.

While we were visiting, Aunt Victoria asked Karla to go to her closet and get her photo album. She pulled out pictures of my brother and me when we were little. It seemed really strange — we just met this lady and here she was showing us family pictures.

She told about my dad's schooling. The family was Catholic and my dad, Andrew DeWaele, went to Catholic school. My grandmother, however, thought the Catholic nuns were too strict in disciplining the children, so she pulled him out of school before he finished. I think he went to work after that, but I do know he was in the Army Air Corps, before the branches were separated.

Paul, Camilla, and Marcia

As it turned out, neither of my parents finished high school. When my mother was 13, her father died. Three of her brothers were living but none of them was interested in taking care of their mother, so Mom quit school and went to work to help them survive. I seem to have inherited her inclination because when similar needs arose in our family, I responded in a similar way. Whatever else this trip did for us, both our boys, Sean and Brian, learned more about theirgreat-grandfather's and grandfather's involvement in WWI and WWII respectively.

This was in 1979 or 1980, and we could drive anywhere in Belgium. The only problem was if we went too far, we had to buy gas on the economy. It probably cost as much as it does here now — $2 or $3 a gallon, which we thought was terrible. Being in the military we were eligible for ration cards for gas. We paid 35c a gallon and they gave us tickets to buy it. We had a 1976 Buick, which was as big as a European truck.

It took all of our gas to get where we were going, so when we left to return to Germany, we had to fill up on their economy. When Richard said, "We need to change some of our deutschmarks into francs, so we can buy gas," Karla asked, "How many francs do you need?" Richard quickly figured, "Let's see, our tank holds about 25 gallons. That would be about 120 liters so we will need 200 francs." She said, "What?! That's a bus!" For them it seemed so.

That gives some background of my ancestry. I was born in Moline, Illinois, on February 25, 1951, in a hospital that was torn down in the last couple years. We lived four or five blocks from the hospital in the Belgium section of Moline. This is a city of 20- to 30,000 population, but it is like Des Moines, West Des Moines, Clive, and other suburbs. Moline has Rock Island and East Moline, and if you don't know where the borders are, you can cross from one to the other without noticing.

Mom, self; Mike, Grandpa Feno Dad, and Paul

 

I grew up, the daughter of Andrew DeWaele, and sister to an older brother Paul and younger brother Mike. For as long as I can remember we lived with my grandfather Alfons DeWaele. They called him Feno. We moved into my grandparents' house originally to take care of Grandmother DeWaele. Mom took care of her until she passed away when I was two. After Grandma passed away, Grandpa said, "You might as well live here. I don't feel like living by myself," so we stayed. I can remember sitting at the dinner table with Dad and Grandpa having such heated discussions they were pounding the table. That is the way they were, and that is the way I grew up until Grandpa passed away when I was thirteen and in junior high.

When I was eight or nine, mom's mother (Goldie Beckstrom) got ill and Grandpa Feno told mom to bring her there. So now mom was taking care of her mom as well. I. can remember playing cards at the kitchen table when school was out. Grandma and I shared a bedroom but I slept so soundly that she passed away in the middle of the night and I didn't hear anything. Mom always got up in the middle of the night to take her to the bathroom, a little commode by her bed. One night she didn't wake up when Mom went to check on her. She had passed away. The ambulance came and picked her up. I didn't know anything had happened until I woke up the next morning.

I grew up between the two brothers. I was particularly close to my older brother Paul. He took care of me like we wish all older brothers would do. In the winter, we would go sledding in a park about three blocks away. I was always real skinny and my feet would freeze. I'd go down the hill one time, and I'd complain that my feet were cold. Paul would bring me home. The next day or two we'd go again and he would say, "Put some extra socks on Marcia."

We tried everything. I'd put on extra socks, or he'd pull me on the sled so I wouldn't be walking in the snow. I'd go down the hill once or twice, and my feet would be frozen again. He'd bring me home and go back, never complaining about his tag along little sister.

For the most part, people were more trustworthy in those days. Paul and his friends and most of the time his tag­along sister would ride our bikes miles away from the house and no one thought anything of it. I tease him unmercifully about the time we were riding our bikes when I was probably seven. Paul would have been 10. One day we went down 7th street hill toward the Rock River, about 2 miles away from the house. There were still gravel roads with ditches alongside in Moline at that time. Everything is paved or blacktopped now. Being close to the river, sometimes water remained in those ditches and there were tadpoles in them. I was looking at the tadpoles. Paul thought he'd have some fun, so he threw a rock, lobbing it over my head, expecting it to splash in the water and startle me. That was his plan anyway. Unfortunately, the rock fell short and bit me in the back of the head. So I tell everybody that my brother hit me in the back of head with a rock. He retaliates by saying, "Aren't you ever going to forget that story?" I say, "No."

Mike, self, and Paul

It did scare him though. I was bleeding badly, so he tied his white handkerchief around my head. He may have had a little bit of asthma at that time so Mom and Dad had bought him a 10-speed bike to make it easier for him to get around. I had a 3-speed. We had a pretty big hill to climb so he said, "You take my bike." I took off first up the hill and by the time he got up the hill the handkerchief was no longer white. It was red, and Paul was scared to death. When we got home, Mom and Dad were shocked. I said, "Paul hit me in the back of the head," and even though he swears I didn't tell Mom this, I added, "Don't get mad at him. He didn't mean to do it." He swore that Mom crawled all over him for that.

Ruthann

The three of us grew up together and didn't give a thought to our family being incomplete until I came home from high school one day when I was 15. Mom was not like herself. She was really cranky, and I asked, "What is wrong with you?" Mom said, "I think I am pregnant. I have an appointment with the doctor," and lo and behold, Mom was pregnant. When I was 16, Mom and Dad had a little girl, so I had my little sister although it was later in my life than I thought about having her. I met Richard just a month after she was born.

That came about when a friend of the family and I went to an outdoor movie at the Memory Drive-In in Milan, Illinois, a suburb of the quad cities. Carol my friend and I met Richard and his friend Gaylon while there and went out for pizza after the movie.

A couple weeks later, Carol came over to the house and we were talking about these two guys we had just met with mom. I had just said, "We won't hear from them again anyway," when the phone rang. Sometime in the conversation at the Pizza place, I had mentioned Dad's name so the fellows knew my last name When they called, Mom answered the phone and handed it to me. They couldn't find Carol's phone number but Richard remembered my Dad's name so they called our number.

When I answered, the voice said, "This is Richard. You may not remember me but I was the guy you met a couple weeks ago at the drive-in." "Yes?" "We've been trying to get Carol's phone number." I said, "She is here, you could talk to her." So he asked if we would like to go out for a root beer. So we did. After that, Richard and I went on a few tennis dates and the relationship went from there. That was how we met, associated, and grew to love each other. Two years later, two days after I graduated, we were married. Therefore, I only had two years that I spent with my sister before I moved away from home except for the time Richard was in Basic Training for the Air Force and I moved back home during that time. That didn't give Ruthann and me much time to become close. We have grown closer since our parents have passed away.

At seven months of pregnancy I moved to Wichita Falls, Texas with Richard for his AIT (Advanced Individual Training), and Sean was born Sept. 11, 1971. Brian was born April 17, 1974. Mom came to help me for a week after each boy was born. I was lucky enough to be able to stay home with the boys to raise them. Women today have to join their spouses in the workforce.

During the first 6 years of Richards's military career, he worked his military job and part time for our carpenter landlord, Johnny Raub. This particular job entailed scraping and painting the outside of the two-story house we lived in, as well as, any side jobs Johnny contracted. This gave us the extra money to scrape by and gave Richard some handy skills that would help us out in the future

Richard around the time
of entry to the service

When we still lived in the two-story house, an elderly lady who lived behind us became Sean's and later Brian's babysitter on the few occasions we went out. She lived by herself and paid rent to her son, which we considered odd. She would never take any money for baby sitting but Richard would do odd jobs for her — cutting her Pampas grass, which had sharp edges that cut Richard's arms whenever he did it. He put plastic over her back windows and did all kinds of things for her. She really thought a lot of Richard. We had her over one day on Sean's birthday. By the time she was ready to go home, it was getting late and Richard said he would walk her home. He opened her door and she said, "You go in and check the house to make sure nobody is in there." He said, "What if I find somebody under your bed?" She said, "Just leave him there and I'll take care of him."

Mamaw Walker, as Sean knew her, lived through some very hard times in her life. This is why she would musingly grab the paper towels out of the garbage after Richard had thrown them away. She would fold up the useable ones, place them on the counter, and tell Richard, "You use those next time." She was a very frugal lady in many ways because of the times she lived through. Brian was two when we moved to Altus, Oklahoma and doesn't remember her.

Richard had applied for OTS (Officer's Training School) and was accepted. While he trained for that, we stayed in Wichita Falls. Upon graduation, his first duty station was Altus, Oklahoma. This meant Richard no longer had to work a second job.

I've worked a few different jobs. Mostly because a friend or relative needed some help where they worked and would ask me to help out. I helped out at H & R Block during tax season putting returns together, and many years at Wards during inventory. Eventually, inventory at Wards led to a part-time job in houseware.

From Altus, Richard was assigned to Geiinany and could take us with him. That was an incredible experience and it was during this time that I had the experience of going to my ancestral homeland, as I told at the beginning of my story. On this trip it was so helpful that the Air Force had assigned sponsors. There wasn't immediate housing available on base, but our sponsors had found us an apartment before we arrived. They also sent a guy to pick us up at Rein Mein Airport. He put all our baggage in his station wagon, took us to the base, and set us up in the officers' hotel. After he had done all that he told us that our sponsors, Frank and Jean Grimm, were expecting us over for supper, so it was real easy.

During the time we were in Europe, we traveled around Germany and rode a troop train from West Germany to Berlin, which was still a divided city. There was East and West Berlin, the West was all free and modern, and East Berlin was totally different because it was the Communist side. There were Russian guards. We had to travel at night on the train because they didn't like anyone looking at the countryside. I am sure it was because it was really poor. We had to stop every once in awhile so they could inspect the train. They looked underneath with mirrors on wheels so they could see if anyone was riding the rails.

We had one of the first video recorders that used VHS tape, and had one frightening experience that involved the recorder and tape. When we were in Berlin, we took a subway to the zoo. I was carrying the bag that had the batteries for the video recorder, along with our passports and flag orders, which were special orders required to cross into East Germany. We had a bunch of kids with us. They were acting up and I became distracted. When we exited the subway, Richard took the recorder and I forgot the bag. We were walking around, and when he asked me for the bag, I realized it was on the subway. The most important things were our flag orders and our passports. We went to an official who said, 'You'll never find them because passports are very valuable. People will sell those for several thousand dollars to somebody in East Berlin so they will be able to get out."

We figured it was a lost cause. They had to create another set of flag orders and passports. We asked them to look and sure enough, just before we were ready to leave, they were found. In one short day we got new flag orders, new passports, all pictures taken — everything that normally takes months they did in a few hours. We had to go across town to get the new passports. When we came back they had found the original ones. We could have either one, and we chose the old ones. It taught us the importance of passports. We didn't realize how valuable they were to people who are trapped.

I still remember the feeling of passing from one side of the wall to the other. The sky was a beautiful blue on the western side but the other side, even though the sky was still blue, felt gray. There is no way to describe it, but it was depressing — the difference was like the difference between night and day. On the east side there was a little dirt area between the sidewalk and the wall. It was covered with mines, razor tape, and broken glass to prevent anyone scaling the wall.

At one time Richard came back to the States for 12 weeks to attend Air Command and Staff College. Even though we were left in Germany, we were perfectly comfortable with that. We were already acquainted, and the military community, particularly in the Air Force, was a real close knit one. Our landlord, Zimmerman, was especially friendly and we knew we could depend on him or our Air Force family if any problems occurred. Fortunately, we needed no ones help during this time.

The kids grew up going to many different schools on and off military bases during Richards' military career. In spite of this, I believe they received a good education. Plus they experienced the cultures of many countries and seeing places few kids get to see while growing up.

Other than the unaccompanied tour to Korea, Richard was never assigned to a war zone. However, he went on a TDY (Temporary Duty) assignment to Panama. Sean was in Junior High at this time and watched the news every morning. This particular morning the news announced that a plane had taken off from Panama to Honduras. When trying to land on the short runway at Honduras it skidded off the runway into the ocean. All on board were lost. I sent Sean to school after assuring him his father wasn't going to Honduras. At the same time, I knew that there is always a possibility they could be sent somewhere else during such an assignment. I worried until noon about him possibly being on this plane. At noon I decided that no one had called me, or showed up on my doorstep, so he had to be alright. That evening he called us to let us know that he was fine. God was looking out after all of us then as he always does, because Richard told me during our phone call that he was asked to go on that flight but had too many things to take care of in Panama.

After Richard retired, we came back to Iowa to live in the Liberty area where he grew up. Both our boys were in military service but now live here also. Sean and his family live in Hartford, Iowa which is about 45 minutes from us so we often see him, his wife Christina, and our two grandchildren, Sylvia Rose and Sam Houston. Sam Houston is our most recent grandson born on his fathers' birthday, September 11th. I was overjoyed not only for another grandson, but it again gave Sean a reason to celebrate his own birthday again. Brian lives in Osceola and has Carrie Ann, and Andrew William (named after my father). We see them a little more frequently, only because they live closer.

Mom and Dad
Helen and Andy
DeWaele

Richard has held the positions of County Engineer for Clarke and Decatur (where he is currently employed), since he retired from the Air Force in 1991. I am enjoying my life in the role of wife, mother and grandmother, but I have also taken my responsibility as a daughter, just as I watched my mother do. Dad had cancer and before he passed away, I went to Moline to take care of him. Mom was left by herself and had several crises — open heart surgery, one time she fell down the steps, crushed her elbow and broke her upper arm in three places. She had a hip replacement, and at the time of each of these needs, for three to six months, I went to Moline and took care of her, until she too passed away. Richard supported me during every crises. The highway between Osceola and Moline has been well traveled

RICHARD DEAN McKNIGHT

I am Richard of the Liberty McKnights. I was born in Dr. Stroy's Hospital in Osceola in April 1946, and went to school at Liberty #3. I think we received a good education in rural schools, although we had a pretty constant turn-over of teachers. The school district probably didn't pay enough to keep men teachers, and in some years our teacher would be the wife of a local farmer. It was like a second job for them so they could afford to be there for two or three years. I remember Mrs. Townsend who was there for several years. My sister's first teacher was Miss LaFollett. I don't know anything about her. She could have been real short or real tall, skinny or heavy. All I know was her name was LaFollett, which I thought was a nice name — sounded sort of French, and I was in love with her.

In the late 1950s, school consolidation was happening and many rural schools were being closed. Liberty #3 was one of the last rural schools in Clarke County Iowa to remain open and functioning. My parents foresaw what was happening, and to give me a head start, sent me to "town school" when I was in 7th grade. Liberty #3 didn't actually close until the next year.

I had many apprehensions about town school. No, I was scared to go to town school. I was a farm boy from a one-room school. I didn't want the kids to make fun of me. All of a sudden I was in a school with more than one room, and had to change classes. I thought this was really scary and that very likely I'd get lost. I went to the old West Ward school, long since gone. As I remember it, there were four rooms upstairs and four downstairs. Being in the right room for the right class I imagined would be hard to do. Of course, it wasn't really that bad. Everyone went from class to class together. My cousin Vernon came to my rescue. He lived in town, met the bus I rode, and showed me where I was to go. Some of the teachers we had known for years. Harley Cooper's wife, Marie, was a teacher there. She would help and talk to us rather than telling our parents if anything went wrong.

That group of 7th graders went through high school together. We went one year at the old high school and then spent three years attending the new high school. I graduated in 1964, and went to Iowa State University with John Blake, Bob Macey, Ray Bonnet and a few of those guys. I majored in Industrial Engineering. It took me a little longer because I was a co-op student with John Deere, working at their plant in Moline, Illinois, during the summers and one winter quarter. I graduated from Iowa State in 1969.

I met my wife, Marcia, in 1967. There used to be several Deere plants in the quad-cities, but most of them were in Moline, Illinois, where Deere and Company originated. Marcia was from Moline. Her father worked at Deere's Plow and Planter works in downtown Moline. I worked at the Harvest Works in East Moline, building combines.

Marcia and I were married in 1969, the weekend after she graduated from Moline High School and I graduated from Iowa State. I worked at Alcoa (Aluminum Company of America) in Bettendorf, Iowa for a little over a year. There was still a military draft and Vietnam was very much on the minds of all young people. While I was in college, I had a student deferment which kept me from being drafted. Working for Alcoa Aluminum gave me a work deferment because I worked on the line that made skin sheet for airplanes. The company had a big lay-off in 1970, and there I was with a draft lottery number of 13. Considering there are 365 days in the year and there were 365 numbers, number 13 meant I could expect to be drafted right away. I got a job in Keosaqua for a few months at a plant that made baskets and things out of wire. I received my draft notice to report for induction into the Army in November. The Army was not my first choice. I happened to be walking through the mall at Southridge the weekend before I was to report. There was an Air Force recruiter, who told me, "If you don't want to go to the Army, come see me." We talked awhile and what he told me sounded good. He got me out of reporting for the Army, and by signing up then, in November, he arranged for me not to leave until February. We had a few extra months! Just after I signed up to go to the Air Force we found out Marcia was pregnant with our first child, Sean. I was 25 years old, and one of the oldest recruits in my flight at basic training.

My 12 or 14 weeks of basic training was at Lackland Air Force Base (AFB), followed by AIT (Advanced Individual Training) at Sheppard AFB, in Wichita Falls, Texas, to become a computer operator. After I graduated I was assigned to the Wichita Falls base, and I spent the next five or six years stationed in Texas working as a computer operator. Once I got a permanent assignment, Marcia came to live with me. I came home and we rented a U-Haul trailer to move our belongings. Our accommodations weren't great. We had a little dinky apartment with two bedrooms and a bath. The landlord told us he would fix it up, and he did.

The landlord was also a contractor, and I worked for him along with my duties for the Air Force. It worked very well because for the Air Force I worked mostly late in the evening or all night. I had the days off. The shift before me was made up of civilians, and for three or four of those years I would come in at night after everybody was gone and work until the job was done. When work was done, I'd shut everything down and go home. I did that Monday through Friday.
It got to the point where we were really fast, and if the civilians before me worked a little overtime, I wouldn't have to go in at all. I could have the whole night to sleep. There were several advantages to working the night shift: we didn't have to report in for Commander's Call, and we didn't wear uniforms because there wasn't anybody to check up on us. The Computer Laboratory was always locked so if somebody wanted to come in late at night, they had to ring the door bell. That gave us time to put on our uniforms. We were like civilians, wore civilian clothes, ran the computer and at the end of the shift we went home. I don't think we went out to the base during daylight hours at all.

In those days computers were large pieces of equipment that took up most of a room. We kept military records, equipment records, records for the aircraft and also did payroll. That was my job. I ran payroll checks for 6,000 military men and 300 civilians. They don't do that any more. It is all changed.

So I worked full-time for the contractor and part-time for the Air Force. This routine worked fine for the first five years. The last year or so, running payrolls, we started working for the Reserve Units, too. Then I had to stay all night. I didn't get off early so then I had two jobs. The primary one was eight hours, the other five or six hours.

I had worked my way from nothing up to Staff Sergeant and was ready to become a Tech Sergeant when I had the opportunity to become an Air Force officer so I had to decide whether I wanted to be a Tech Sergeant or a 2nd Lieutenant. At the time it seemed like a hard decision. John Blake came down to visit us before I made my decision. We talked about it and John said he didn't think it was a hard decision at all. He said, "Follow the dollars," so I did.

I went to Officer Training School (OTS) in July, August, and September of 1976, at Lackland Air Force Base for 12 weeks, graduated from there on September 13, as a 2nd Lt. and was reassigned to Altus AFB in Oklahoma. I became an industrial engineering officer with the Civil Engineering Squadron there. After Altus, I was assigned to go to Germany. This was an  accompanied tour so we could take our wives and children. My family and I moved went to Hahn Air Base in Germany, in the Hunsruck Mountains, almost in France. By this time we had two boys, both born in Wichita Falls, Texas. Sean, who was born at the time Sean Connery was famous. Brian Keith was named after Brian Keith, the actor. One was so proud to be a Texan that is all he can remember, the other one doesn't really care much.

We all flew to Germany together. We were supposed to go on a commercial DC-10 but that was the week they shut down all the DC-10s because they were having engine cracks. Instead of the DC-10s, the group of people that were going on one DC-10 went on three C-141s, so we flew from the United States to Europe in a cargo plane. That wasn't great. There was only one window to look out. Fortunately it was late at night so almost everybody was asleep anyway. They set these planes up for the passengers to fly to Germany. All the seats faced the tail, which is really the safest way to fly. There was a "comfort pallet," which was a cargo pallet that had a couple of Port-a-johns on it and a rack of snack food. That was it! That was all the family had to eat until we got there. The luggage was on another pallet right in front of us in the back of the airplane. The inside wasn't finished like commercial planes. It was bare skin which offered no protection from the cold and noise; but we got there.

Probably the most interesting thing was when we arrived at Rhine Main Air Base which was also the Airport. Most of Europe was that way. There were also Army people on the flight. By now I was a 1st Lt. and they knew, of course, we were coming. When we got off, we were met by a Tech Sergeant, who came up

Lieutenant McKnight

 

in a station wagon to pick us up — just us, Marcia and our two kids, I and our luggage. He saluted, had all our papers, put our luggage in the car and said, "You guys can get in here." We just got out of the airplane and into the car. I felt sorry for the Army guys because they were getting off the plane and being told, "Throw your duffle bag on here and get on the bus." I knew right then I'd made the right choice.

I overheard a conversation in which the one in charge asked a soldier, "What are you?" One answered, "I'm a barber." "Don't need any barbers. All we need are cooks and truck drivers. Which are you?" The guy said, "I'm a barber." He said, "You don't understand, boy. You are either a truck driver or a cook. Which are you?" The fellow said, "I guess I'm a cook."

Marcia's grandfather and grandmother came to the United States from Belgium either just before or just after WWI. While we were in Europe, Marcia's mother and father came to visit. We actually went to where Dad's parents had lived in Belgium. It was in 1979 or 1980 We could drive anywhere in Belgium at that time. The only problem was if we went too far, we had to buy gas on the economy. It probably cost as much as it does here now — $2 or $3 a gallon, which we thought was terrible, so we didn't go too far. Being in the military we were eligible for ration cards for gas. We paid 35¢ a gallon and they gave us tickets to buy gasoline. We had a 1976 Buick, a big honkin' car. It was as big as a European truck

We lived in Germany for three years. We lived on the Economy which was great. Our apartment was the upstairs of a house. The landowner lived downstairs. He was a truck driver for Felke Furniture and drove all over Europe. He thought our car was the greatest thing in the world because his whole family of five could get in it at the same time. His car was just a little car that only three could ride in at once.

We drove to Belgium and Marcia got to see where her family had come from. Her dad could understand some of the Flemish language they spoke. Her cousin, Carla, would interpret for the rest of us. Carla's father, Andre, asked Marcia's dad if we wanted to go to see Aunt Victoria, his mother's sister. Marcia's Dad thought she had passed away and so he said, "You mean the grave plot." "No." Aunt Victoria was 92, still alive. She had been a nun and lived in a cloister. While we were visiting, she asked Carla to go to her closet and get out her photo album. She pulled out pictures of Marcia and her brother when they were little. It seemed really strange. We just met this lady and here she was showing us family pictures.

It took all of our gas to get where we were going, so when we left to return to Germany, we had to "fill up" on their economy. Richard said, "We need to change some of our deutschmarks into francs, so we can buy gas." Carla asked, "How many francs do you need?" "Let's see, our tank hold about 25 gallons. That would be about 120 liters so we will need 200 francs." She said, "What?! That's a bus." And I guess it was for them.

We went to park it in a parking ramp on a trip to Trier in France. We went all the way to the top and every time we went around a curve we had to jockey it because it was so big, and then we couldn't find a place big enough to park, so had to park in a bus place. I remember studying Trier in high school history under Miss Nelson. We also went to Paris a few times.

Once Marcia got sick and we went to the "American" hospital, which really wasn't American at all. It was just a hospital the Americans set up when they occupied the place years before. The doctor who examined her said we had to take out Marcia's gall bladder and I said, "Well, I didn't think so. We are going back to Germany tomorrow so just give her something to ease the pain." The guy had an earring in his ear, and I wasn't about to let him operate on my wife in Paris!

When we were in Europe, we had one of the first video recorders that used VHS tape,. We went to East Berlin while it was still a divided city. The Russians had to keep the border open to allow people in. We rode a troop train from West Germany to Berlin. There was East and West Berlin, the West was all free and modern, East Berlin was the Communist side. We had to travel at night on the train because they didn't like anyone looking at the countryside. I am sure it was because it was really poor. We had to stop every once in awhile so they could inspect the train. They looked under the train with mirrors on wheels so they could see if anyone was riding the rails. There were Russian guards. At one stop, a Russian woman was coming out of a building, at night, putting on her clothes, and said, "Get that train out of here!" So we went on.

Marcia remembers, "When we were in Berlin, we somehow lost our passports. We went to the zoo and took a subway. I was carrying the bag that had the batteries for the video recorder, along with our passports and flag orders, special orders we were required to have to cross into East Germany. We had a bunch of kids with us, they were acting up and I became distracted. When we exited the subway, Richard took the recorder and I forgot the bag. We were walking around, and when he asked me for the bag, I realized it was on the subway. The most important things were our flag orders and our passports. We went to an official who said, 'You'll never find them because passports are very valuable. People will sell those for several thousand dollars to somebody in East Berlin so they will be able to get out."

"We figured it was a lost cause. They had to create another set of flag orders and passports. We asked them to look and sure enough they were found, just before we were ready to leave. In one short day we got new flag orders, new passports, all pictures taken — every thing that normally takes months they did in a few hours. We had to go across town to get the new passports. When we came back they had found the original ones. We could have either one, and we took the old ones. It taught us the importance of passports. We didn't realize how valuable they were to people who are trapped.

"I still remember the feeling from passing from one side of the wall to the other. The sky was a beautiful blue on the western side but the other side, even though the sky was still blue, it felt gray. There is no way to describe it, but it was depressing — the difference was like the difference between night and day. On the east side there was a little park area between the sidewalk and the wall. It was a dirt space covered with mines, razor tape, and broken glass so no one could crawl over the wall."

Richard resumes: We went to Checkpoint Charlie and all those places that aren't there anymore. People don't remember when Germany was divided. They don't remember when there was a big concrete wall. I remember taking the kids over there and they spit on the wall — that was a big thing because it was all covered with graffiti on the western side. The other side was completely barren. We took the kids to Paris once, went to the Black Forest and other places.

I left the family in Gelinany while I came back to the States for about 12 weeks to go through Air Command and Staff College, in Montgomery, Alabama. While there, I made Captain. It was at the time when the t.v. show "Dallas" was on. I remember we watched it on t.v. in Europe, but it was six or seven weeks behind. In the States, I saw who shot J.R. That was the big story. When I went back I knew who shot J.R. but I couldn't tell anybody because they wanted to wait and "see" it six weeks later.

We returned to the States in 1982, and for 18 months I went to AFIT (Air Force Institute of Technology) a certified graduate school, at Wright Patterson AFB in Dayton, Ohio. I earned a Masters degree in Engineering Management. I lived with Les and Deb Van Heeswyk, now of Osceola, for a few weeks until we could find a house to rent.

When we left Wright Patterson, we were assigned to MAC Headquarters at Scott Air Base just outside of St. Louis, Illinois. I worked in the Military Airlift Command. These were the guys that directed the C-5s and 141s around the world. I was a facilities estimator for 1 1/2 years before I was reassigned to the Base level of Scott AFB to work in the civil engineering office. A year later, I was sent to Korea on a one year remote tour. As a remote tour, I couldn't take my family. I left them in base housing at Scott AFB so their housing needs would be taken care of.

I was at Kunsan Air Base, Korea, which is the southernmost part of Korea you can visit and still be in Korea. It is right on the Yellow Sea. "If I stood on my bed, looked way out over the mud flats, I could see the Yellow Sea." The housing in Korea was great. I had a little apartment in a new dormitory. It had a small kitchen, living room, bedroom and bath. It was a brand new building and a brand new apartment. For $5 a week, this Korean lady washed my dishes, cleaned the apartment, washed clothes, made the bed and polished my shoes every day.

My job was to design, inspect, and accept the buildings built by a contractor. It was a bit of a fluke that I was there for 15 months. It was supposed to be just a one-year tour, but our commander said nobody was to leave until there was a replacement for them. There were two or three possibilities but guys would retire, or get out of the service to avoid going to Korea. So it was 13 or 14 months before they identified a replacement for me, then I had to wait until his current tour was over.

At that time, there were still occasional hostilities between North and South Korea. We were assigned to the 8th Tack Fighting Wing. Our job was to maintain our F-16 aircraft and to prepare the runways and air fields to fly those F-16s against North Korea. While I was there, I went to Manilla in the Philippines for a week or two for additional training. When I left Korea, I met Marcia at Hickham Air base in Hawaii. We were there for ten days of vacation.

I got there a little earlier than Marcia. She flew in, and I picked her up. We stayed at an Army base where they had small apartments. I told them I wanted to be near the ocean so I could hear the waves. That is what we got. We were about 100 yards from the ocean. There was a retaining wall that the waves hit all day and all night. Marcia remarked that Richard had enough after about five minutes.

We returned to Scott, picked up the family and moved to Dover Air Force Base, Delaware, near the capital city of Dover. We were stationed at Dover for five or six years until I retired in 1991. I was in the service from 1971 to 1991, a little over 20 years. While I was in Korea, I was selected to be promoted to Major, and was promoted at Dover Air Force Base. My assignment there was Chief of Civil Engineering operations, the best and most enjoyable job I ever had. We spent many weekends visiting Washington D.C., which was only an hour away. Both boys attended school at Dover. One graduated from Ceaser Rodney High School at Dover. The other came back and graduated here in Osceola, from Clarke Community School.

After retiring from the Air Force, we returned to Clarke County, built a home and I became the County Engineer for Clarke County. In the spring of 2004, I left Clarke to become the County Engineer for Decatur County.

Both of our boys have been in the service. Brian was in the Marine Corps. He tore his Achilles tendon and was medically discharged. Sean spent some time in the Navy, then in the Army National Guard, completing his service in a hospital unit in the Army reserves. He continues supporting the Army Reserves and his former hospital unit as a contractor to the DoD. He manages a computer lab with video teleconferencing capabilities, used to support continuing education to Army medical personnel. He also personally instructs soldiers in EMS practical skills, small arms marksmanship, and wheeled vehicle drivers' training.

We also have two grandsons, Andrew William and Sam Houston, and two granddaughters Carrie Ann and Sylvia Rose.

Grandson Andy has his picture taken with Grandpa Richard at Uncle Sean's wedding.

 

RICHARD McKNIGHT'S FAMILY in the SERVICE OF THE COUNTRY

Richard's wife: Marcia DeWaele McKnight's side of the family:
Grandfather: Alfons DeWaele  Army WWI
Father: Andrew DeWaele  Army Air Corps WWII 
Uncle: Floyd Becktrom  Navy WWII
Brother: Paul DeWaele Army during Vietnam
___________________________
Richard side of the family:
Grandfather: William Kinkennon  Army
Williams's children:
Jack Kinkennon  Navy
Lester Kinkennon  Navy
Bill Kinkennon  Navy
Earl Kinkennon Marine Corps, Guadalcanal
Mildred Kinkennon Andersen  WAC, South Pacific
Harry Kinkennon Coast Guard, Army, in Air Force 20+ years
Father: Glenn McKnight Army WWII
Glenn's brothers and brother's in-law:
Earl McKnight  Army, South Pacific
Raymond McKnight  Navy 
Dale McKnight  Army
Neal Stump Army
Buford Day Army
Glenn's male children:
Richard McKnight  Air Force 
Charles McKnight  Air Force 
Steve McKnight Army
Richard's children:
Sean  Iowa National Guard and Army Reserves 
Brian Marine Corps
Steve's children:
Angela McKnight  Iowa Army National Guard 
Frank McKnight Marines

 

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Last Revised December 8, 2014