Posted by William T. Nordin (Tom)-son on April 8, 2014:

Well, I don't know if I will be very good at eulogizing my father's death, this is my first time. The things I remember- I remember West Point as majestic grey castle-like fortresses overlooking the Hudson River, named after those who had gone before. I remember how striking my father looked in a picture in his graduation uniform. I remember him telling me how he had to hide PB&J sandwiches behind his locker because as a Plebe he was hungry. I remember how the Long Grey Line marched in absolute synchronicity with sabres reflecting flashes of light, pants creased like a razors edge, shoes shined like mirrors, chins tucked between the folds of the neck and chest, and it was perfect. I remember the Grey Ghost area where we lived and playing in the forested woods having the best of "Huck Finn" times. I remember my father as a math teacher wearing his khaki's during the summer. I remember El Paso, TX when my father went to serve in Korea and my mom, sister, and I were alone. I remember moving to Fort Leavenworth, KS and pretending to be Geronimo the great American Indian warrior. I remember moving to Fort Sill, OK where all the furniture was army green. I remember getting to wear all the cool Army stuff my dad had. I remember moving to Northern Virginia where we finally settled, and going to the Pentagon with my dad to meet the Joint Chiefs, and marveling at its hustle bustle small city atmosphere under the tightest security imaginable. I remember my dad in his "dress blues" and "summer dress white" uniform with all the ribbons, medals, stripes, and "bird" as it was called. I remember how dedicated and devoted he was to our country when he went to serve in Vietnam and again we were alone. I remember how they treated the military when they came home. I remember how my dad never spoke of Vietnam. I remember how he wandered in the house at night "checking on his troops and the perimeter" and how he was tortured by nightmares of that time. I remember when my mom and dad moved to Florida and attended my children's events and how much fun they had. I remember a man born in to a big family of Swedes who emigrated to the United States of America where my father was able to attend West Point and become an officer, husband, father, teacher, warrior, and provider for the family. What more could there be required of him? He was not perfect, no human is, but he gave it the best damn try he could. I am very proud to be my father's son and I miss him. Now, could you add to the story of my father? I want to know more about him. Nothing is insignificant. With humble liberties, I say for my father, borrowing from General Douglas MacArthur: In the evening of my memory, always I come back to West Point. Always there echoes and re-echoes Duty, Honor, Country. February 21st 2013 marks my final roll call with you, but I want you to know that when I cross the river my last conscious thoughts will be of The Corps, and The Corps, and The Corps. I bid you farewell. Colonel William H. Nordin class of 49'.

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