Ralph Robert Wensinger

West Point, 1959

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Rosalyn Wensinger Sands on January 25, 2002:

REMEMBRANCES ABOUT MY BIG BROTHER, RALPH WENSINGER I have wonderful memories about growing up with my older brother, who was nine years older than me--a big age difference for being such close siblings. We were inseparable during the early years growing up in San Mateo, small town America, during the 1940's and 1950's. It all started when I was born in Ashland, Ohio, on August 13, 1944. Ralph was born in Ashland too on October 28, 1935. I was told that my big brother was so excited when he found out there would be a new baby coming into the Wensinger family. I don't think it mattered to Ralph whether the baby was going to be a boy or a girl, he just knew it was going to be this wonderful play thing. Throughout our young years together, he always treated me as a playmate. I was told that Ralph kept a vigil for hours outside on the lawn of the Good Samaritan Hospital waiting for me to be born. Days later when Mom and I came home for the first time, it was Ralph who was first in line to hold me. I don't think he ever let my feet touch the ground for the first year of my life. The pictures in our family album always show him holding me. One of my fond remembrances of my big brother was when he would dress me up in his football uniform with helmet, shoulder pads, jersey and padded trousers, as I recall, starting when I was about 3 years old. He would toss the football to me and have me run with it just so he could tackle me. We liked to play football in the living room, but when Mom would catch us doing it, she would shoo us outside to play on the lawn. It was more difficult for me to run on the thick lawn, but my landings were sure a lot softer. It is no wonder that during my youth I became such a tomboy. Ralph loved football. He first played on the Pop Warner league in San Mateo and later went on to be a very fine quarterback at both Serra High and San Mateo High School. My father and brother would spend countless hours in the city park, near downtown on El Camino Real, passing, kicking and running plays. My father was a dedicated trainer and a tough task master in teaching Ralph to hone his skills during those early years. I would go along too on some of these training sessions. My job was to be the ball holder. I would hold the football with my forefinger just at the right angle so Ralph could kick it. When I wasn't needed, I would go over and play on the big curly slide and wait for them to finish each training session. The whole family would go to Ralph's football games to cheer for him and the team. I don't remember the games as such because I was running up and down the bleachers or watching the cheerleaders. My big sister, Marilyn, was one of the cheerleaders. I really couldn't see what was going on down on the football field, but I knew when it involved Ralph. My mother would jump up and down and scream and holler in wild excitement, which was unusual for one who was normally quiet and reserved. I knew when something didn't go right because my father would curse and swear. Early on I learned not to repeat those words. I once had to have my mouth washed out with soap and water. Ralph later went on to be a quarterback at West Point.

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