Toivo

Today, July 24, is my father's birthday. I should say, my biological father. Just to avoid confusion, I should also say that I have a legal father who is deceased and whom I never met-that is my biological mother's husband, an adoptive father who is deceased and whom I was estranged from, and a stepfather who raised me and was my Daddy-there for me everyday. I did not meet my biological father until I was 29, twenty years ago. I had 17 years with him before he died, and I treasure that time. I'll dedicate this blog entry to him. The picture of us was taken in 1998, in Astoria Oregon where he lived.

Toivo Johannes K. was barely born in this country, a first generation American whose parents were both from Finland. In Finnish, Toivo means Hope, as he represented a great hope for the family's future in America. His father had left Finland in 1909 to avoid a second purge by the Czar Nicholas. Finland was part of Russia at the time, the the ruling czar was trying desperately to stamp out the communists. My grandfather was a communist, so he Finland left for North America. He met my grandmother who was also from Finland as they traveled through Canada before settling in the US. Toi spoke very little English as a child, and quit school at the age of 10 because he needed to help his family in the Great Depression and because he was struggling with the language. Toi worked for a dairy, and you guessed it, he was a milkman for over 50 years, with the exception of the time when he served in WWII. He served in the 132nd Infantry and the 164th Infantry of the Americal Division. Americal is short for Americans in New Caledonia. This division was the forerunner for the Marine Corp, but part of the Army at the time. http://www.americal.org/ambook.shtml

My father was an infantryman and driver who fought on Guadalcanal, Leyte, Bougainville, and other islands in the Northern Solomons in the campaign to liberate the Philippines. The picture at right was taken on the island of Bougainville. He received a Bronze Star for combat heroism-I never learned the story on that one, and a Bronze Service Arrowhead(Arrowheads are given for assault landings such as those at Normandy or in this case,Guadalcanal), as well as the usual Victory Medal, Asiatic Pacific Service Medal, etc. He was a good man, who loved my birthmother, loved her other children, and loved me unconditionally when he learned of my existence. He was a stubborn, Finnish, and had a drinking problem, not unlike others of his generation who served in WWII. In the short time that I knew him, he was very good to me.

He spent the latter part of his life working with other vets in the American Legion and VFW. He was a Legion Post Commander and even served as a the Secretary of the Legion in the State of Oregon at one time. Service was more than just a word to my father.