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On Memorial Day, many of us need help understanding the past.
Every year, our family and no doubt others can turn to faded letters and yellowed newspaper clippings that have been handed down in boxes and albums of memories. We can study the photos and wonder how those lost in service would have lived their lives if it had not ended too soon. And we can think about the threads that connect us.
James W. Gillespie, my father’s only sibling, graduated from small Carlton High School in northern Minnesota in May 1942.
“Four of us graduating expect to be drafted into the military on June 10, seven days after we graduate.” James wrote in a letter to my mother. “We are leaving from Carlton County in a large group of about 200 people.”
Two years later, the uncle I never met before his twentieth birthday was gone forever. The local newspaper, Carlton County Vidette, told his story:
‘In this terrible war a Carlton family and their friends are again saddened by the receipt of one of those dreaded telegrams: ‘The War Department regrets to advise you, etc.’
“This time word reached Mr. and Mrs. Wilson Gillespie, informing them of the death of their youngest son, which occurred in Mindanao, Philippines, on April 11, while in action with an infantry division.”
The story explains that James had served in New Guinea and the Philippines, acting as company secretary for a time before asking to return to fight with his unit. “And while he was thus engaged, he met his death.”
The news story has no byline, but it is clear that the writer felt the weight of the assignment.
‘It is with a sense of almost personal loss that we print this obituary of one of Carlton’s finest young men. From the time James was just a teenager, a love of newspaper work and printing was in his blood.
“His hobby in his early years was a small printing shop in the basement of his house. During the last two years of high school, there was hardly a day that James did not stop by the Vidette office to watch our printers work and talk . about the profession he loved so much. When he was home for his last leave, he assured us that he would return after the war to work in the office of The Vidette.
Sometime in April 1945, my grandparents received a letter from the commanding officer of their son’s infantry unit, attempting to answer some of the questions they undoubtedly had.
“I think it will comfort you to know that your son died an instant death due to enemy gunfire while executing a dangerous task leading his squad to a hill target near San Ramon, Mindanao, Philippine Islands. James’ courageous action and wonderful example of leadership so inspired his men that they were able to continue and help achieve the goal.
My father, Robert Gillespie, also served in the Pacific during World War II, doing what a Vidette story in the family photo album calls “work of a classified nature” as a master sergeant in the Marine Corps. He came home; his younger brother did not, and he carried that pain all his life.
Like James, my father also loved newspapers. Or maybe he fell in love with them because James did that – I wish I had asked about that too before he left.
Without a college degree, my father somehow landed a postwar job at the Duluth newspaper, beginning a career that would take him to the Milwaukee Sentinel and a senior editorial role. More through nepotism than skill, I would eventually join him there after college as an entry-level reporter.
I bring you this family history on Memorial Day 2024 because this is my last week at the Star Tribune after 32 years in news and opinion, and more than 40 years in reporting and editing jobs in Minnesota and Wisconsin. As my retirement approaches, I think a lot about the past. And I am filled with gratitude.
I am grateful for the readers and subscribers who have supported our journalism, and for the community members, business leaders and public office holders who have shared their perspectives with us. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to work with hundreds of dedicated journalists, many of whom have become my friends.
I am indebted to my wife and sons, whose love and support never wavered despite the late nights, interrupted weekends, and distracted vacations that come with a life in the news.
And on Memorial Day, I am grateful for military veterans like James and Robert Gillespie, and my two older brothers, as well as all the other men and women who served our country with honor so that we can live free.
James never had the chance to return to Carlton and the Vidette. But I like to think that his passion for newspapers was passed on somehow, first to his only sibling and then to me.
There is plenty to read online about ancestral connections and genetic memory. For now, I’ll stick with those old letters and newspaper clippings. They tell the story that I will revisit every Memorial Day, always in awe of the courage of those who came before us and helped shape our lives.
Scott Gillespie, editor-in-chief and vice president of the Star Tribune, is retiring. A search is underway for his successor. In the meantime, Star Tribune Opinion will be led by David Banks (David.Banks@startribune.com). Comment submissions and questions should be sent to opinion@startribune.com.
