PTSD
They didn't call it that back in the great WW II. Dad had a bad case of it. Back seventy years ago the medical experts thought the best way to treat this debilitating condition was with electro shock therapy. Did you see the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest?
It turns out this shock therapy made PTSD worse for some, as it did my dad.
Dad was unable to hold a job his depression was so great. My mom supported the family being one of the first women pharmacists in the state of OH.
Dad just stayed home and suffered. He slept on the couch and listened to country music most days. When I was young, I didn't understand all this. Back then, families didn't talk about it.
But as I matured late in high school and college, I started to connect the dots. Dad and I started to talk more and he took a great interest in my studies. He also was fascinated with my construction business as soon as I got out of college.
On days when he felt up to it, he'd come over to the first house I rehabbed - they call it flipping now - and shake his head in amazement at what we were doing.
We had to send my Dad back to Heaven when I was just 24. He was only 59 years old. He died of heart failure tied no doubt to his sedentary lifestyle, his relentless smoking, and no doubt a deep personal lack of accomplishment and maybe some shame.
But little did he know he was a great success as a man, husband, and father. He taught me many things even though the teaching happened in a subliminal way.
Dad taught me perseverance that he no doubt developed while a POW.
Dad taught me kindness, a skill surely he developed on the battlefield caring for injured and dying soldiers.
Dad taught me to honor our great nation. We had one very difficult kitchen-table talk when the Vietnam War was raging.
My draft number at age 18 was 127 and that year they went up to 125. If drafted, I would have gone, but I was a soul-surviving son so I was told I'd never be put into action. Remember the movie Saving Private Ryan? I was the only son in the family to carry on the Carter name for our family.
I want to call out some of my friends who are vets. My best friend in Cincinnati, Richard Anderson who twice VOLUNTEERED to go to Vietnam.
My good buddy Chuck who was in the Coast Guard.
My fellow home improvement peer Mike Morris who served in Vietnam.
My very good friend who used to subscribe to this newsletter, Captain Dick Daniels. Dick was an F4 pilot in Vietnam. I forget how many times he tail-hooked on carriers. I got to meet Dick and his wife Sue on several trips out West.
My buddy Bill Kingman who was sent to the Middle East and was kind enough to send me a US flag that was flown over there.
My really good friend Bob Roark who was in the US Air Force as a crew chief.
My nephew Kevin who was in the US Navy.
If I overlooked you, I apologize. Please forgive me but you know I appreciate what you did.
Please know that millions of people are appreciative of your service.
I hope you have a fantastic day.
Tim Carter
Founder - www.AsktheBuilder.com