My father was 18 years old when he participated in the D-Day invasion of Normandy, France. He came ashore on Omaha Beach. Need-less to say, it was a terrible day for an innocent, rural Utah boy. He subsequently spent time in France and Belgium until he was wounded in the Battle of the Bulge. He spent some time in a hospital in France. He was then sent home on a hospital ship and sent to an army base in California for surgery. He remained there until he was well enough to come home to recuperate.
When I was a child and my brothers and sisters were small, we were often afraid of "monsters" under the bed, in the closet and in the dark. When we were frightened, he would hold us on his lap and tell us there were no such things as the monsters we imagined. The only real monsters are people. As we got older, he added to that and said that, during his time in the war-ravaged countryside of France, he was assigned to guard German soldiers who had been captured by the Allied Forces. His experience taught him the following:
"The only real monsters in this world are people. Man's inhumanity to man is the cause of most of the suffering in the world. Old men start wars and young men die in them. All people in the world are just the same as you and I. They want the same things in life, to love and be loved. They want to have families and a good life. It makes no difference if you are American or German or any other race. We are the same."
My father kept in touch with one prisoner. His name was Herbert Lorenz. He was an educator. Following the war, the division of Germany left him and his wife and two daughters in East Germany. The conditions he found when he arrived home in Germany were desperate. He wrote to my father and told him of the terrible suffering they were experiencing. My father and many of the people in Richfield put together blankets, clothes, etc., and sent them to him. They were very grateful. Every year at Christmas time, we would call them until it became impossible to get through the Iron Curtain. Eventually, even our letters were stopped.
This conviction to love our fellow men has been very much a part of his life. When asked what others could do to thank him for the many acts of service and help he has given others, his advice to them is:
"Just help someone else who needs help. That's the only thanks I need."
Because of my father's strong example that all men are brothers, I have learned to look upon all people as equals. It is very hard for me to understand bigotry and racism. If we all would follow my father's advice and example, maybe we wouldn't have so much turmoil and suffering in our world. Perhaps we could find answers to our problems besides war, gangs and ethnic cleansing.
Now, in his 73rd year, my father's advice is:
"Never give your mother the choice of going to heaven without her vacuum, or going to the devil with it, because she'll grab her vacuum and head down below."
My father, whom I love and admire immensely, is Willard Jay Barney Jr., known to all as "Jay." I try to follow his advice.