I want to think that this happened on the island of Tinian. But it could have happened on Iwo Jima, I’m not certain. Tinian was nothing but a “walk, walk, walk” from one end of the island to the other. While at Iwo Jima, Dad was embroiled in battle from the time he got there until the time he was injured. So I don’t know how he would have had time to do this on Iwo Jima. Tinian makes more sense.
But there was a Japanese soldier who surrendered with his hands up to some of the men in Dad’s squad, which was very unusual. Because the Japanese were trained to fight or die. This soldier was turned over to Dad’s charge. He spoke perfect English and it turned out that he was an American citizen. A barber who lived in California. He had gone over to Japan to visit his family and was inadvertently drafted into the Japanese army. His job was to cut hair for the officers. Somehow he wound up on this island. And he surrendered in hopes of finally getting back home to California.
He carried Dad’s heavy radio equipment during the time they spent together. He was a smart man. I bet he did finally get home!
This is the story of two people who were destined to be together nearly 100 years before they ever met. A love story, replete of hometown history and family.
Charlotte, a fiery, petite beauty with dark hair and big, brown, almond-shaped eyes, and Stephen, a handsome Greek, a brave US Marine , met 10 years ago after Stephen had returned from his first deployment to Iraq. Both living in the same area at the time, they were introduced by a mutual friend. Their relationship flourished and when Stephen left for his second deployment, Charlotte waited for him. By the grace of God, he returned. They were reunited and spent much of their time together.
Their story is beautiful, alas, it is a private affair. I will just say that they found out they love each other. And when Stephen asked Charlotte for her hand. She accepted, happily.
Charlotte’s grandparents have almost always lived in this area of the state. They had a farm in Cameron during the early years of their marriage, and moved to Rockdale later on. About 15 years ago they decided they would spend their golden years at their nearby property in the country. There is an old school here. They built a nice home on the old playground, amidst a grove of tall oaks.
Charlotte is my daughter. I live here also, with my love, Glenn. We actually reside in the old school. It was built by the local men as one of FDR’s work projects back in the era of the Great Depression. It burned to the ground before they ever held a class and they built it all over again. They carried on the business of education here for many years, but eventually the old school closed down and they began busing all the children to Rockdale. It changed hands a couple of times before my Dad acquired the building at auction about 45 years ago. He converted some of the classrooms into living spaces, and Glenn and I have a comfortable home here.
Charlotte lived in Rockdale until she was four, when our family moved away. But the first time Stephen came to visit and met the family, we learned that he too, has roots in this county. His grandfather actually grew up in Cameron. Furthermore, Stephen and Dad compared military records, and found many similarities. Both are marines from the 4th division, who specialized in communications and reconnaissance, and proudly wear the purple heart medal. It was a great visit. We all liked Stephen, and I felt very happy for Charlotte.
Now, Glenn likes gardening and one day he decided to make an asparagus bed. There was a row of huge old piers bordering a flower bed in our front yard, probably 10 of them. Dad had put them there soon after he bought the building. They came from the foundation of the old gymnasium which had been sold off separately and moved before he ever acquired it. That spot is now home to our vegetable garden.
The piers really didn’t look that great in our front yard. So Glenn decided to make a raised bed with them for the asparagus. It required a tractor to move them. So one by one, he picked them up, carried them to the garden and sat them down at their new resting place. He made a rectangular border and filled it with rich, black dirt that he found down by the pond. We bought nice, big crowns and he planted them just exactly how his research told him to, by digging a trench and making hills for them to rest on. We had ferns in no time. And now, this garden produces a lot of asparagus.
Luckily, my Dad is a very observant fellow. One day he was out watering the asparagus, when he looked down and discovered that on the right, front cornerstone of the border that Glenn built, there was something inscribed in the cement. He splashed water on it, as to read it more easily. Written on the stone was “YA Gjeddi 1929”. He thought about this for a minute and recalled that Stephen’s mother was a Gjeddi.
So we asked her about it. It turns out that YA, also known as Yancy Gjeddi, was Stephen’s great uncle! There were eight Gjeddi boys that grew up in Cameron back then. They were all adopted and all went by their initials. My mother went to school with these boys. And Stephen’s grandfather was one of them. It’s been said that the Lord works in mysterious ways, I believe this!
Almost 100 years ago, Yancy must have helped build the old school. I wonder if he knew it was important that he inscribe that stone? Glenn never saw it, he just stacked the stones at random. But this wound up on the right, front corner, facing outward!! And was discovered around the time of Stephen and Charlotte’s wedding, two people who met in a totally different part of the state, and never knew before, of all these amazing coincidences. Perhaps Yancy wanted to express his approval of this union. I find it amazing and beautiful. I wish I had a photo of Yancy. If I ever find one, it will go here.
This old school was built in 1939 by local men of the community as part of FDR’s work projects. Architech was Karl Johnson from the neighboring town of Cameron.
The building burned down before they ever held a class and was rebuilt in 1940. Classes were held until 1960 when the school children started being bused to the nearby Rockdale school disctrict. At that time the school closed. It changed hands two or three times and around 1970, James Eugene Luckey (my dad) bought the school and surrounding property at auction. It’s been in the family ever since.
Dad had been a teacher and coach at this school when it was open. He had a bee farm, and used one of the classrooms for extracting the honey from the hives. He also added to the building a shop and an auto shop, two apartments, and he covered the landcape with 300 Elberta peach trees. People came from far and wide to pick the delicious peaches on the honor system. They would gather their peaches, then take them down to Mrs. Harbuz’s store to be weighed and paid for. She would give the money to Dad.
In 1998 Dad and Mom (Eleanor Louise Clore Luckey) built their golden years home on the playground location of the schoolgrounds, an area full of many beautiful Post Oak Savannah trees.
