My father, Jewell Floyd Crick was born January 28, 1924 to Theodore Milton and Frankie John Lewis Crick. Born and raised in the rural southeast section of Hopkins County, KY, known as Red Hill Road, approximately 3 miles east of Nortonville, KY. He was the youngest of six, four boys and two girls. His mother died when he was five years old. His father re-married and four more children were born into this household. Two of his brothers were also drafted about the same time. One brother, Jessie was very close to him and on his way to the Philippines when my Dad was killed, but would never talk about it.

My father was a farmer and coal miner. I grew up on the same 20 acres of land and my mother added rooms to their two room house and we moved into it when I was eight. Until that time my sister, Mom and I lived with her parents.

My father attended the little country school, Whitfield Schoolhouse, as a young lad, and then moving into town and attended Nortonville School. At the age of sixteen years he met and married my mother, Sarah Odell Lile on December 21, 1940 in Hopkins County, KY. To this union they were blessed with two girls, Priscilla and Bonnie. Both parents were from the town of Nortonville and we were fortunate to be able to stay near both sets of relatives. And it is here I still reside with my husband and three daughters near by.

My father was drafted and inducted at Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana on March 22, 1944. According to his registration card, he was 5ft. 5in. and weighed 150 lbs. He had hazel eyes and blonde hair. He spent time in training at Camp Atterbury, IN, Ft. Benjamin Harrison, IN, Camp Stewart, GA, Fort Jackson, SC and Fort Ord, CA.

From Fort Ord a telegram was sent on Dec. 30, 1944 stating "I am on my way to parts unknown." So this was the last message home before leaving for the Philippines. He sailed on the USAT Pueblo (troopship) which left San Francisco shortly before noon on Jan. 1, 1945. They were aboard almost 30 days, crossing the equator on Jan. 13, 1945.

There as a replacement, on May 16, Co. G was given the mission to seize the high ground east and overlooking Ipo Dam and cut off the escape route for the Japanese. The platoon was fired upon by a strong Japanese position and my father was listed as one of the fatalities there on Hill 500.

My mother received the telegram of my father's death on June 2, 1945. His body had been buried in Manila #2 Cemetery. Three years later his remains were returned to his home town and buried in the family cemetery of New Salem.

On May 16, 1945 my father left behind a wife and two children, my sister at age 3 1/2 and myself at 18 months. I have no memory of him, but after half a century through the help of my AWON family I now know more of how my father lived and died. He gave his life so that we might have the gift of freedom. I am now the only survivor of our family as my Mom died in 1978 and Priscilla in 2008, but they are a love never forgotten.

In 2007, I had the privilege of traveling with an AWON group to the Philippines and going to Ipo Dam, the area where my father was killed. That was such an awesome experience to retrace my father's footsteps. Never as a child would I have ever dreamed I would find myself looking at the very place he lost his life.