STORY NUMBER ONE
Many
years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago.
Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing
the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.
Capone
had a lawyer nicknamed "Easy Eddie." He was his lawyer for a good
reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept
Big Al out of jail for a long time.
To
show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big,
but also, Eddie got special dividends. For instance, he and his family occupied
a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day.
The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block.
Eddie
lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the
atrocity that went on around him. Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had
a son that he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes,
cars, and a good education.
Nothing
was withheld. Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized
crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong. Eddie wanted his son to
be a better man than he was. Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were
two things he couldn't give his son; he couldn't pass on a good name or a good
example.
One day,
Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he
had done. He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al
"Scarface" Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son
some semblance of integrity. To do this, he would have to testify against The
Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great.
So,
he testified. Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on
a lonely Chicago Street. But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest
gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he would ever pay.
Police
removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a
poem clipped from a magazine. The poem read:
The
clock of life is wound but once,
and
no man has the power
to
tell just when the hands will stop
At
late or early hour.
Now
is the only time you own.
Live,
love, toil with a will.
Place
no faith in time.
For
the clock may soon be still.
STORY NUMBER TWO
World
War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch
O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in
the South Pacific. One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he
was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had
forgotten to top off his fuel tank.
He
would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.
His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and
headed back to the fleet. As he was
returning to the mother ship he saw something that turned his blood cold: a
squadron of Japanese aircraft were speeding their way toward the American
fleet. The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but
defenseless. He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save
the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.
There
was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet. Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety,
he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed
as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken
formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was
finally spent. Undaunted, he continued
the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of
damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly. Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron
took off in another direction.
Deeply
relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.
Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The
film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the
extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.
He
had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft.
This took place on February 20, 1942, and for that action Butch became
the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the
Congressional Medal of Honor. A year
later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29.
His
home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today,
O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great
man. So, the next time you find yourself
at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial
displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor. It's located between Terminals 1
and 2.
SO
WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?
Butch
O'Hare was "Easy Eddie's" son.
No comments:
Post a Comment