It was on the 11th hour of the 11th month in the year 1918 that “The Great War” ended.  The first World War (no one expected the second- but they should have) had that moniker back then.   That’s also the name my father employed, too.  It was also among the last sanctioned battles in which my grandfather (my mother’s father) was a participant.

The words of President Wilson still should resonate in our souls…

” To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day [what Veteran’s Day was first called- and the name by which it is known outside the US] will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations.”

My grandfather was a veteran of that war.  Sol Kuchlik was never sure of the date (or day) of his birth.  Because they didn’t track that well- and because my grandfather was a man in a hurry.  (You think I might be related?)  He was born on Chanuka (that he remembered well) in Minsk, now part of Belarus, then part of the “Pale of Settlement” associated with Russia.

He was a strapping young man with bright red hair.  And, strong.  Willing to do anything to get out of the Pale- and get to the ‘Goldena Medina’…  Crossing Europe by himself.  Getting to America and fending for himself, never letting anyone know how old [read “young’] he really was.  (Yup, I learned that concept, too.)

I don’t even know how he met my grandmother.  But, I do know he fell for her in a big way before he was asked by his boss to help Black Jack Pershing in this new, big war.  (Rumor had it that all three of them had met decades before.) Thinking he might have been kind of old for the job, but strong enough and smart enough to perform the special task his boss had in mind.

Like many a soldier, my grandfather wrote to his “girl” back home.  I have some of those postcards somewhere.  I remember finding them after he died and realizing that there was yet another part of this man I did not know.   I know those two married soon after my grandfather returned to New York; they stayed married until their death.

Every once in a while, I could get Grandpa Sol to talk about his exploits.  Most of which he kept bottled inside.  His normal response was to immediately pepper me with arithmetic (or math, as I aged) questions.  Ones that demanded instantaneous responses.  He wanted me to use my brain- quickly, adeptly, and to do great things.

Here’s to you, Sol Kuchlik.  I still miss you very much.

Even though the rest of the world still calls today Armistice Day, the US renamed the event in 1954 as Veteran’s Day.  Regardless of the moniker, every veteran should be honored today.  It’s their day- they earned it.

By the way, this moment, 11-11-18 at the 11th hour, was the exact birth date and time for one of my dedicated employees.  Harry Thornton volunteered to go the extra mile when my personal life was falling apart. He was a veteran of another war.  Here’s to your memory, as well, Harry Thornton!

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