Epilogue

No one goes through a war unscathed.  My dad's sister, my aunt Joanie, told me once that dad walked the floor night after night in emotional agony over his experiences during the war.  He eventually worked it out and went on with his life.  Maybe having a family and a new baby son, helped.

On October 17, 1946, my brother, Robert Wesley Martin (Butch) was born.  He was to become the first of five sons my mother and dad eventually had.  Mom told me once, that it is a good thing I was born first, as they seemed to have lost the pattern after that.  My brother, Butch, was killed in a bad car accident when he was only 49 years old.  A major loss to my parents and myself.  He and I, as the two oldest, grew up together and were very close.  Dad took it very hard and mom did not live but a few years after that.  My feelings are that because dad took it so hard, he could not go to the place in his memoirs where my brother was born.  Thus, they ended after World War 11, but his amazing life did not stop there. We have many stories and maybe I will get with my brothers and tell more of them.

He had so many life changing experiences by the time he was only 20 years old, that it would seem as if after that, it was all less than interesting..  That could be further from the truth.

When he returned to the U. S. after the war and my brother was born, he went back to school on the G. I. Bill and completed his education.  He became a Marine Engineer and Naval Architect.  While he was completing his education, my mom, my brother and I lived in Miami, Fla with his mother and her second husband, Charles Shumard.  I don't remember much about that time,with dad, except he was not around much.  Then again, he was going to school and working, so he probably had his hands full. I remember the house in Miami and different people around, but it was mostly mom and dad trying to establish a home and a life for us. Most of my interaction was with mom, Uncle Charles, my grandmother, and the people across the street.

After dad got his degree we lived in Miami for awhile. After that, I remember living at a lake resort called Kingsley Lake, where my brother and I had the run of the place. Dad was the manager and we lived in one of the small cabins on the grounds and I went to school in Stark, Fla. We  then moved to Green Cove Springs, Fla where he was working for a Greek shipyard owner named, George Laris.  It was an interesting time for me, and mom and dad and Butch and I lived in several different homes in Green Cove, until we moved to Jacksonville, Fla.  Where we eventually settled.  When we moved to Jax, I was in the fourth grade so most of my friends are from that time.

Dad worked for various shipyards in the Jacksonville area and at one time owned his own small shipyard. During that time, he built a glass-bottomed boat named "The Arlene Francis" and the reason I remember that boat so well, is he got a call in the middle of the night one time, that the boat had "launched itself" into the river. He also worked for several ship yards in Jacksonville until he went into business for himself again.

Dad eventually became self-employed as a Marine Surveyor and worked for the Navy and various shipping line, including the Norwegian Caribbean Lines.  Mom and dad were very social and there were always a lot of interesting people from all parts of the world around the house from time to time. Everyone from Norwegian ship captains to a former Russian Count.  His work involved estimating repairs or damages on a ship and overseeing the repair work.

While living in Jacksonville, Florida the rest of my five brothers were born.  Jack in 1956, Daniel in 1957, David in 1958 and the youngest, Scott in 1961.  Thus completed the Martin family.  Of course with six kids, they ended up with many grandchildren, great-grandchildren and even great-great grandchildren that at least dad, lived to see.

At one time dad, took a lifeboat off a ship and converted it into a pleasure craft and there are many stories about their ventures on "The African Queen."  Which traveled up and down the St Johns River at about 5 MPH.

Mom died in March of 1998 from complications of congestive heart and leukemia.  I was alone with her when she died and held her hand until the end.  I had promised her I would be there, and I was.  Dad died just 5 days before Christmas in 2004.  He had been ill for many years with emphysema and the disease robbed him of an active life in his later years. I think life finally took its' toll on him, and his heart just gave out one day.

My dad lived a charmed life after all, in spite of the tragedies he had to endure.  Which, all of us, if we live long enough, will encounter at one time or other on this journey called life.