News of the Day and Tomorrow: Nikki Haley, Trees, Thanksgiving and Black Friday

Profile in Discouragement: Former U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Nikki Haley appeared Sunday on CBS Sunday Morning. In a segment of the interview conducted by Norah O’Donnell about the impeachment inquiry, Haley said, “The biggest thing that bothers me is the American people should decide this. Why do we have a bunch of people in Congress making this decision?”

For a public figure who many are touting as a future Republican presidential candidate, the former South Carolina governor demonstrated a naive understanding of government. Haley should realize that senators and representatives are sent to Washington not just to rubber stamp their state’s voter preferences or to blithely rubber stamp or reject a president’s agenda, but also to be leaders, to exhibit profiles in courage by supporting positions that are good for the country even if they are not compatible with the narrow interests of their respective electorates or political parties. They, after all, swore an oath of allegiance to the Constitution. No such avowal is required of the general population, though newly enfranchised citizens and members of the armed services swear their allegiance to our country.

Moreover, to follow through on Haley’s premise, surveys have shown a sizable majority of Americans believe in compulsory background checks before a gun may be purchased. Similarly, other gun control measures are majority-favored. Yet Republicans continue to refrain from enacting any such proposals. 

Taken a step further, what Haley seems to be endorsing is the supreme executive, a president who really does not require any other branch of government. His or her way or the highway for anyone who disagrees with the chief executive. 

The impeachment proceedings and a Senate trial will show in startling relief just how far Republicans have subsumed their allegiance to the Constitution in favor of service to a president who has obstructed justice and encouraged foreign interference in our “free” elections. 

Later in the interview Haley acknowledged that Donald Trump’s verbal assaults on four first term congresswomen, telling them to go back to their own countries even though they are all U.S. citizens, was unbecoming from a president. But she defended his actions, saying of the representatives categorized by Trump as “the squad,” “Don’t bash America over and over again and not do something to try and fix it.” 

Huh? Has she not been keeping abreast of policy initiatives they have put forward? I don’t agree with all of their proposals but clearly they have been trying to do something to improve our country.

Tree Time: Last week a Norway Spruce from upstate New York started its travel to Manhattan for its crowning as the annual Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center. The tree will be festooned with appropriate decorations—some 50,000 lights— in time for a December 4 unveiling on live television. 

Gilda and I are “big tree” fans, and by that I mean we really like trees, especially big trees. Our favorite is a copper beech, or mostly any beech variety. 

One of our more interesting days while visiting Scotland recently was a visit to Dawyck Botanic Garden, a 65 acre garden and arboreta eight miles south of Peebles. The trees are magnificent, especially the Douglas firs. 

You might be interested to know that the majestic Douglas fir, so common in the Pacific Northwest, is named for a Scottish botanist, David Douglas, who “discovered” them during an 1824-27 expedition. He brought seeds of the Douglas fir and about 10 other conifers back to Britain.

While on the subject of trees, Normandy, France, is known for its apple trees. But the French, at least in Normandy, don’t eat the fruit. Rather, they wait until their particular specie of apple tree drops its fruit. The apples are then gathered and fermented into hard cider. As the climate in Normandy is not conducive to growing grapes for wine, cider with an alcoholic kick makes life très jolie. 

Once an Editor …: I’ve been retired for more than 10 years now from Chain Store Age but my LinkedIn page still attracts onlookers every week. Recently I’ve been inundated by one head hunter organization sending me job opportunities. I’m flattered but not interested.

Perhaps my admirers are impressed that retailers are coming around to my way of thinking, at least when it comes to one of my fervent opinions. About a dozen years ago I editorialized that the madness of Black Friday was demeaning to customers and store employees. As retailers desperately tried to corral more consumers they chose not to wait until Friday morning. Many opened their doors on Thanksgiving Day itself, another intrusion on family get-togethers, particularly for store personnel who had to leave hearth and home to harness hostile shoppers intent on beating anyone in their way to a desired purchase.

It’s not a tidal wave yet, but I am encouraged by the number of chain store companies that will be closed all day on Thanksgiving. Here’s a list of the retailers I am aware of: Army and Air Force Exchange Service, Academy Sports and Outdoors, Ace Hardware, BJ’s, Costco, Hobby Lobby, HomeGoods, Lowe’s, Marshalls, Petco, Sam’s Club, Sierra Trading Post, Stein Mart, T.J. Maxx, True Value. 

Of Castles, Kings, Churches and Wizards

I don’t go to church regularly. I am, after all, Jewish. But I find myself in churches, mostly Catholic ones built half a millennia or more ago, whenever I travel through Europe.  

Last week in Normandy, France, Gilda and I entered some remarkable spiritual edifices. Given their size and majesty, and the sheer engineering accomplishment of their construction, it is understandable how Medieval men and women were transfixed into believing miracles could indeed happen. A religion that started in a manger and matriculated into magnificent stone cathedrals could not be anything but authentic to illiterate serfs and even noblemen.

Consider the abbey atop Mount Saint Michel. Situated on an island with fewer than 50 current residents, the abbey took hundreds of years to build. It is not beautiful, as the Cathedral Notre Dame in nearby Bayeux is. Rather, it is an engineering marvel, rising as it does above a rocky fortress. The Bayeux Cathedral, as well, was a labor of hundreds of years, but it aligns more with the architecture and look of numerous Norman-Romanesque churches in towns and cities one can see throughout the countryside.

The Bayeux Cathedral would be worth a visit in its own right. But for years it garnered fame from a cherished historical artifact, the Bayeux Tapestry. In truth, the nearly 70 yard long creation is an embroidery, but let’s not quibble over semantics. The tapestry tells the story of the Norman invasion of England in 1066.

Did you ever wonder why William the Conqueror invaded England? Was it merely to seize control of another country? Actually, according to the way the Normans tell it, it was to claim his rightful inheritance. You see, on his deathbed Edward the Confessor, king of England, having no sons, bequeathed his kingdom to a distant cousin, the Duke of Normandy, known then as William the Bastard for he truly was illegitimately born. William was a descendant of Rollo, a Viking warrior chief familiar, by name at least, to fans of the cable series Vikings. Rollo had become part of the French ruling class.

William believed he obtained agreement for his kingship from Harold, an English earl of Anglo-Saxon heritage. But upon Edward’s death Harold assumed the crown. To avenge the double-cross and take what he thought was rightfully his, William invaded England. Harold might well have beaten him at Hastings had he not just hurried down from killing off another invading pretender to the throne, Harald Hardrada, king of Norway, at Stamford Bridge, several hundred miles to the north of Hastings. The weary Harold and his forces were routed, Harold dying from ordinary wounds or, as legend has it, from an arrow piercing an eye as depicted in the Bayeux Tapestry.

Subsequently, William was known as the conqueror. His Norman descendants ruled for hundreds of years, much to the displeasure and misfortune of the Anglo-Saxon populace, we have been told for years (thus the Robin Hood myth. Indeed, King Richard the Lionheart, a great, great grandson of William the Conqueror, spent just a few weeks in England as king, preferring his French lands).

As churches go, the structure in the town square of Sainte-Mere-Eglise has nothing to distinguish it. Except for its dramatic part in the D-Day invasion. The Allies deemed it important to seal off the town as it was located on an important road the Nazis could have used to reinforce their defensive positions. Paratroopers descended on the town in the early morning hours of June 6, 1944.

One of them, John Steele, landed on a church spire. He could not free his parachute so he wound up observing the ensuring battle for several hours, all the while pretending to be dead. He eventually was captured by the Germans, from whom he later escaped and rejoined his division. For those who have seen the movie The Longest Day, Steele was portrayed by Red Buttons.

To convey his personal story, and commemorate what the town believes is its place in history as the first community liberated in France, a parachute with a dummy dressed as a soldier is suspended from a church spire facing the town square. It’s a kitschy touch. But it is historical fiction as Steele’s parachute got caught on a spire facing a side street. That would not have made for good cinema so The Longest Day, ahem, took liberties with reality. As do the good citizens of Sainte-Mere-Eglise.

The Longest Day was not the only Hollywood reference during Gilda’s and my trip. Before Normandy we spent a week in northern England and southern Scotland. Scone Palace near Perth, Scotland, is the historic location where 38 kings of Scotland were crowned sitting on a high-backed wooden chair atop the Stone of Scone (pronounced “Scoon”). It has also been used for centuries by British royalty, the last time being for Queen Elizabeth II’s investiture in 1953.

For more than 400 years Scone Palace has been the ancestral home of the Murray family, successive Earls of Mansfield since 1776. The first Earl of Mansfield, William Murray, was Lord Chief Justice of England who in 1783 issued a ruling that began the process that led to the end of slavery in Britain.

As important as that action was, Hollywood found the life of his niece, Dido Elizabeth Belle Lindsay, more appealing. It filmed her life story, with liberties, in Belle, released in 2013 (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belle_(2013_film)#Plot). Dido was the daughter of an enslaved African woman in the West Indies and Captain Sir John Lindsay, a Royal Navy officer. Lindsay entrusts her to Murray and his wife to raise, as they were doing with another great-niece, Lady Elizabeth Murray. When the two cousins matured they sat for an oil portrait by David Martin. The painting is displayed at Scone Palace. 

Finally (only because this posting is already long), we visited Hogwarts Castle. Or more precisely, Alnwick Castle in Northumberland, England, where the 12th Duke of Northumberland and his family live from November through April, after which tourists invade en masse for the castle, first built after the Norman conquest, is more than just the manifestation of what a castle should look like. Alnwick Castle’s alter ego is that of Hogwarts, the wizardry school attended by Harry Potter.

During our visit a group of enterprising and clearly Potter-struck fans were astride broomsticks attempting to fly into a game of quidditch. Tours of the interior and exterior of the castle were fascinating. I will leave you with one amusing tidbit: The kitchen in olden times was far removed from the main dining hall. They were connected by tunnel. Servants were required to whistle the whole time they transported the food. Guess why?

It had nothing to do with safety. Rather, it was to insure none of the duke’s food was lifted off the platters and eaten along the way. Try whistling with your mouth full. Can’t be done.

A Visit to Normandy's Past and Present

Allianz haunted me on Gilda’s and my recent trip to Normandy. Just two doors down from our headquarters hotel, the Mercure, in the picturesque seaport of Honfleur, an Allianz office sign greeted our week’s comings and goings. 

Long time readers may recall Allianz, a German financial services company, had sought to procure naming rights to the Meadowlands stadium the New York Giants and Jets were about to open in September 2008.  It was only after my letter to The New York Times pulled back the curtain on the company’s historic profile as an insurer of Nazi extermination camps, slave labor plants and concentration camps, plus its reluctance to honor life insurance policies absent a death certificate, that public outrage forced the teams to quickly abandon the $25 million proposal. Instead, the Giants and Jets play their games in MetLife Stadium (https://nosocksneededanymore.blogspot.com/2010/01/chain-of-one-person-events.html).

Haunting aside, our stay in Honfleur was idyllic. Cobblestoned streets in the quaint downtown, difficult to navigate, at times made one look to the ground and away from centuries old structures. Some of the buildings have outcroppings on the second and third floors, a successful Middle Ages attempt to add square footage to residences that were taxed based on their ground level frontage. 

Escaping bombardment during World War II, Honfleur boasts France’s largest wooden church with a separate bell tower. Built in the 15th and 16th centuries, St. Catherine Church is beautiful inside and out with a spire that dominates the skyline. 

A tourist attraction for natives and foreigners, Honfleur restaurants specialize in seafood. Streets are lined with small shops which curiously did not stay open late as they would in American tourist venues. Perhaps mid-September is beyond the shopkeepers’ expectations for tourists willing to splurge on delectable chocolates or chic scarves and tops, or just plain kitschy souvenirs. 

As in most any French community, fresh—really fresh—baguettes and pastries attract passersby. To walk clutching a two foot long baguette makes one look instantly like a local. 

From the window of our room in the Mercure we could see the graceful Normandy Bridge, at one time the longest suspension bridge in Europe. Though rain was forecast for the full week after we departed Sunday, Gilda and I reveled in the sunny 60-70 degree temperatures with soft breezes that greeted us every day, making our explorations of the Normandy coast, including D-Day beaches, and nightly promenades exhilarating. 

We had come to Honfleur on a Smithsonian Journeys tour program with 25 others from across the States. Informed by local experts and Rob Dalessandro, deputy secretary of the American Battle Monuments Commission, we learned the history of the region that spawned William the Conqueror, who prior to his invasion of England was known as William the Bastard because he was born out of wedlock. We marveled at the magnificent Bayeux Cathedral and the Bayeux tapestry (really an embroidery), some 70 yards in length that depicts the story behind William’s invasion. We traced and climbed the unimaginable construction feat of Mount Saint Michel; we learned how the area’s signature Camembert cheese and apple cider are made, and enjoyed tastings of the products. From a descendant of a member of the Resistance we heard of life under the Nazi occupation. We somberly reflected on the bravery and sacrifice of American and Allied servicemen, along with the logistical feat of D-Day during visits to Utah and Omaha beaches, the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc and the symmetrical, egalitarian gravesites of more than 9,000 Americans who lost their lives on the shores of Normandy June 6, 1944, and the subsequent fighting in the region for the next 90 days 75 years ago. 

Remembering a D-Day Hero

Herb Bilus passed away 10 months before the commemoration of the 70th anniversary of D-Day, a defining moment for all who, like Herb, served their country, indeed all of humanity, in freeing Europe from the tyranny of Nazi Germany and its Axis allies.

I've previously written about Herb's service on D-Day as an ensign on an LCI (landing craft infantry). I've included it at the bottom of this post under the headline D-Day Heroes.

Herb returned to Normandy for the 50th anniversary. He shared his thoughts with his family and with their permission here it is:

RANDOM THOUGHTS ON D-DAY + 50 YEARS
Herb Bilus June 6, 1994

​"this operation will be carried to completion without regard to losses."

​This sentence from "OPERATION OVERLORD" stands out in my mind as we read over the final phase of the battle plans.

​We had to ferret out our mission in this huge endeavor. My ship, LCI 96 (Landing Craft Infantry) with a crew of 4 officers and 21 men was just one vessel out of thousands. We had already embarked a company (200 men) of the 4th Division fully battle equipped, in Plymouth England.
​
​Now, we had to find out to what beach and at what time they were to land and commence their fight across Normandy and ultimately to Berlin. Fate, luck of the draw, or whatever you want to call it, takes over. The men had been aboard 2 days (D-Day was originally set for June 4th).  After a rough 12 hour crossing, during which half of the soldiers were seasick, we landed them on Omaha beach at H + 4. Three of our ships were lost on the beach. One hit a mine but was salvaged. We then performed such duties as unloading the big attack transports, which couldn't get closer than 2 miles offshore and other movements as ordered by naval command off both beaches (Utah and Omaha).

​Three nights later, enroute back to Britain in a small convoy we were dive bombed by a lone Luftwaffe plane from out of nowhere. Luckily, he missed.

​We subsequently made 22 cross channel trips with reinforcements until we were relieved in August to prepare our vessels to cross the Atlantic (during which we encountered a devastating hurricane), refit the ships, train new crews and set off for the Pacific and the proposed invasion of Japan. Hiroshima changed those plans and the world forever.

​The trip back to Normandy and D-Day plus 50 years was most poignant. To realize one had been part of the greatest invasion force the world will have ever seen is awesome.

​As I walked slowly through the Normandy American Cemetery, I reflected on the words President Clinton had spoken just two hours ago. His message to the effect that the children and grandchildren and all of humanity are the direct beneficiaries of those buried here and across the cemeteries of Europe who fought and gave their lives in the name of freedom. His message struck the most hardened of the 3,000 veterans (even the most anti-Clinton die-hards) and emotions spilled out unashamedly.

​Anyone who has ever put on a uniform in the war-time service of his country, could, by the stroke of the pen, could have killed and buried here.

​We're just the lucky ones.


D-DAY HEROES

Surrounded by two of his three daughters and their husbands, three of his six grandchildren, two great grandchildren, a grandson-in-law and a couple of friends of the family, Herb Bilus had steak for dinner Sunday evening. Sixty-six years ago to the day, June 6, 1944, Herb enjoyed another steak off the shores of Normandy after his Landing Craft Infantry (LCI) #96 delivered its first load of soldiers to Utah Beach as part of the greatest invasion in history.

Hard to believe Ensign Bilus and his cohorts would stop for a hearty meal while the fighting raged, but his commander had promised steak for all officers if they came through their first mission successfully, and so the officers, perhaps even the total crew of 22 Coast Guard sailors, celebrated their good fortune before going back to secure another load of 120 4th Army infantrymen bound for the beaches of France. Herb’s LCI was part of Flotilla 4, a group of 24 LCI ships. They made their initial drop during the sixth wave, roughly six hours after D-Day landings began. By the end of the day, four of their ships were lost off Omaha Beach.

It was off Omaha Beach Herb witnessed true courage, and fear, under fire. It was the task of each LCI to deliver its precious cargo of fighting men as close to the beach as possible, close enough so they could wade ashore without being sucked under by the weight of their packs. Anyone who has seen the first 30 minutes of Saving Private Ryan may remember scenes of GI’s dropped off too soon. As they hit the too-deep water, they sunk to the bottom, drowned before firing a shot. Saving Private Ryan was closer to D-Day reality than any other movie, says Herb.

On one of their runs at Omaha Beach, under heavy incoming fire, a high ranking Navy officer ordered Herb’s ship commander, a Coast Guard lieutenant, to lower his ramps to drop off troops. The lieutenant disobeyed the direct order, arguing the water was too deep. While the Navy man dropped off his load to a watery death, Herb’s skipper steered his ship closer to the beach, giving his soldiers a chance to get to shore “safely,” if such a term can be used to describe any landing that day.

The lieutenant, Marshall was his first name (Herb recalls his last name but I’m going to leave it out for what will be evident shortly), was unusual for a couple of reasons. Jewish by birth, Marshall refused to use his last name. It was too ethnic. Even when a telegram came for him under his full name, he would not acknowledge it.

Herb also suspects Marshall was gay. He was a real dandy, going off by himself during shore leave, wearing felt gloves and carrying a swagger stick. An artist, Marshall painted a mural about Flotilla 4 in the English estate house provided to them in Dartmouth by the author Agatha Christie.

The lived in close quarters aboard LCI #96. Herb has trouble reconciling current opposition to lifting the ban on allowing homosexuals to serve openly in the armed forces.

In a few weeks, Herb will be 89. He’s considered a youngster at his independent living residence in downtown White Plains. They don’t start counting your years until you’ve completed nine decades. Herb’s full of life and stories. Those interested in reading more about Herb’s exploits can do so by linking to an oral history he provided Rutgers University: http://oralhistory.rutgers.edu/Interviews/bilus_herbert.html.

 For those who don’t know, Herb’s daughters are Jane Gould, Pat Lager and Fran Bilus Feldman.

The Great Patriotic War

Here’s a short pop quiz: What was the turning point of World War II In Europe?

I’d wager many of you answered D-Day, June 6, 1944, when the Allies landed on the beaches of Normandy.

The more correct answer, according to most historians and to all Russians, would be the Battle of Stalingrad. Fought between July 17, 1942 and February 2, 1943, the battle for Stalingrad, now known as Volgograd, gateway to the oil fields of the Caucasus region, was among the bloodiest ever fought. Close to two million casualties from both sides. Though they defeated Germany’s Sixth Army, the Russians paid a dear price—they claim losses of 478,741 dead Russian soldiers, 650,878 wounded. More than 40,000 civilians died. The city was left in ruins. The soil wouldn’t produce crops for three years.

To the northwest, the siege of Leningrad (St. Petersburg) lasted for nearly 900 days. Some 1.5 million Russians died.

Overall, Russia says it lost 20 million soldiers during WWII, or what they call the Second Great Patriotic War (the first being the defense of the motherland from Napoleon’s invasion). Another eight million civilians died. Twenty-eight million out of a population of about 170 million. One out of every six citizens (16.5%). Hardly a family did not have a relative killed during the war.

By contrast, the U.S. lost 408,000 from a population of 131 million (0.3%). Aside from the attack on Pearl Harbor, random coastal shellings and combat on some islands of the archipelago of Alaska, American soil was not breached. No civilian population centers were terrorized or captured. Life went on, albeit under rationed goods. But vigilance on the home front couldn’t compare to the deprivations and brutality of living in conquered or embattled Russian territory.

Is it any wonder Stalin vehemently argued for the opening of a second front against Germany? He complained to FDR and Churchill the Soviet Union was bearing all the burden in fighting the Nazis, both in terms of the loss of life and the destruction of its territory.

I’m no expert on WWII, though I’ve seen my share of war movies, read some history and historic novels, so I have a pretty good idea what went on. A visit to Moscow’s Military Museum brings the conflict to life from a whole different perspective. I’d always thought America had supplied vast amounts of war materiel to Russia through the Lend Lease program beginning in the summer of 1941, before we entered the war but after Hitler tore up the non aggression pact and attacked Russia. To be sure, we did send in much needed supplies and equipment. But the Russians, themselves, produced the vast majority of their weaponry, developing numerous tank and airplane models. They developed the Katyusha multiple rocket launcher during the war. One of the best, if not the best, assault rifle, was also developed during WWII by Mikhail Kalashinkov.

Don’t take this commentary as any defense of Russia’s behavior before, during or after the war. But knowing what the Russians endured places their actions in context. Indeed, one of the major themes to emerge from Gilda’s and my two weeks in Russia was a greater appreciation of the hardships the people of this vast land have suffered through for centuries. Not decades. Centuries. They suffered through despots. The masses were slaves—serfs bound to their master’s land with no right to move—until 1861. Even their religion at times offered little comfort. In the Middle Ages, deadly violence rippled through the church’s competing factions. After the Bolsheviks took over, churches were closed, priests and nuns executed. The Soviet Union failed to provide a softer, more fulfilling life. After perestroika, their economy, meager as it was, collapsed.

The people, however, retained their sense of humor. They measured governments and leaders by the quality of the jokes about them. They revealed a resiliency forged through years of deprivation and suffering.

Russia is not a workers’ paradise. It is not a capitalist bastion. It’s a little like the Wild West. It’s not a full democracy, but is better than it ever was.


This concludes Russia Week at No Socks Needed Anymore. There’s much more I could tell, but I probably overtaxed your interest already, so I’ll go back to “normal” blogging next week.

D-Day Heroes

Surrounded by two of his three daughters and their husbands, three of his six grandchildren, two great grandchildren, a grandson-in-law and a couple of friends of the family, Herb Bilus had steak for dinner Sunday evening. Sixty-six years ago to the day, June 6, 1944, Herb enjoyed another steak off the shores of Normandy after his Landing Craft Infantry (LCI) #96 delivered its first load of soldiers to Utah Beach as part of the greatest invasion in history.

Hard to believe Ensign Bilus and his cohorts would stop for a hearty meal while the fighting raged, but his commander had promised steak for all officers if they came through their first mission successfully, and so the officers, perhaps even the total crew of 22 Coast Guard sailors, celebrated their good fortune before going back to secure another load of 120 4th Army infantrymen bound for the beaches of France. Herb’s LCI was part of Flotilla 4, a group of 24 LCI ships. They made their initial drop during the sixth wave, roughly six hours after D-Day landings began. By the end of the day, four of their ships were lost off Omaha Beach.

It was off Omaha Beach Herb witnessed true courage, and fear, under fire. It was the task of each LCI to deliver its precious cargo of fighting men as close to the beach as possible, close enough so they could wade ashore without being sucked under by the weight of their packs. Anyone who has seen the first 30 minutes of Saving Private Ryan may remember scenes of GI’s dropped off too soon. As they hit the too-deep water, they sunk to the bottom, drowned before firing a shot. Saving Private Ryan was closer to D-Day reality than any other movie, says Herb.

On one of their runs at Omaha Beach, under heavy incoming fire, a high ranking Navy officer ordered Herb’s ship commander, a Coast Guard lieutenant, to lower his ramps to drop off troops. The lieutenant disobeyed the direct order, arguing the water was too deep. While the Navy man dropped off his load to a watery death, Herb’s skipper steered his ship closer to the beach, giving his soldiers a chance to get to shore “safely,” if such a term can be used to describe any landing that day.

The lieutenant, Marshall was his first name (Herb recalls his last name but I’m going to leave it out for what will be evident shortly), was unusual for a couple of reasons. Jewish by birth, Marshall refused to use his last name. It was too ethnic. Even when a telegram came for him under his full name, he would not acknowledge it.

Herb also suspects Marshall was gay. He was a real dandy, going off by himself during shore leave, wearing felt gloves and carrying a swagger stick. An artist, Marshall painted a mural about Flotilla 4 in the English estate house provided to them in Dartmouth by the author Agatha Christie.

The lived in close quarters aboard LCI #96. Herb has trouble reconciling current opposition to lifting the ban on allowing homosexuals to serve openly in the armed forces.

In a few weeks, Herb will be 89. He’s considered a youngster at his independent living residence in downtown White Plains. They don’t start counting your years until you’ve completed nine decades. Herb’s full of life and stories. Those interested in reading more about Herb’s exploits can do so by linking to an oral history he provided Rutgers University: http://oralhistory.rutgers.edu/Interviews/bilus_herbert.html.

For those who don’t know, Herb’s daughters are Jane Gould, Pat Lager and Fran Bilus Feldman.