Hey, its Mark,
I'd like to share the story of how a WWII soldier died that I might
live, in a strange but true way.
Many who know our family aren’t aware of this story.
That’s
understandable, it was not the kind of story we necessarily wanted to remember or celebrate. In fact, it was a little awkward for me.
You see, soon after high school my mother married a young man also living in upstate New York who soon went off to the war. His name was Robert Cotanche.
I don’t know much of their story. Apparently they met in high school. Based on a very brief conversation with someone who knew them, I understand that mom’s parents, (grandpa was a pastor) thought they were too young and weren’t too happy with the marriage. But marry they did, and then soon he was off to war in
Europe.
Both knew there was a chance he wouldn’t return. Sure enough that soldier died, like so many others, in WWII. We still have the explanation letter my mother received from a Chaplain. According to the letter, Robert was killed, not by a bullet or bomb, but in a Jeep accident, when it slid on
ice.
One of my childhood memories is visiting his parents when my mother drove us kids to New York state to visit her parents. About all I remember was the awkwardness of seeing Robert’s parents, who were somehow related, but not really,
and were connected to the story of my mother’s first marriage. My dear mother was probably only about 20 years old when she got the news that her soldier husband had died in the war. Wow, I wonder, what was that like? Did she think that life was over? Did she feel like God had abandoned her?
Mom
eventually died in 1995 at age 69 and I’ll never get to ask her, until perhaps in heaven. And maybe I’ll meet and chat with Robert there also. Maybe I’ll get to thank him for serving our country. But life wasn’t over for mom. She enrolled in Houghton College in Houghton, New York, and there met my father, Claude Aaron Williams, Jr. The story is that he was a real jerk—a soda jerk that is. That was the term for someone running an old-fashioned soda fountain. He worked in the college soda fountain and snack bar.
Their romance grew, and they were married August 28, 1949. I was born March 15,
1955. That’s the family history, and here’s the interesting insight for me: If Robert hadn’t died in the war, I wouldn’t be here!
I wouldn’t have had a chance to exist as:
- Mom would be married to
Robert and not my dad.
- They would have likely had little Cotanche babies.
- She wouldn’t have gone to Houghton College.
- She wouldn’t have met my dad.
