If you have read any of my previous columns, you probably recognize that I have a bad case of “Daddy-worship.” In actuality, it applies to that entire generation of both men and women.

In my job, I have the privilege of meeting many of that generation in their homes. An intimate setting to make friendships and talk about many topics. I love to pick their brain about life and history while helping them restore their functional mobility. It’s the second paycheck from my employment that is often more valuable than the one that is deposited into my checking account. I have said many times that upon retirement, I need to write a book about my many home health adventures and record some of the lessons I have learned from what has been labeled “The Greatest Generation.” I highly recommend reading Tom Brokaw’s humbling bestselling book of the same title.

In my dad’s case, he was not able to physically fight in World War II. His situation involved both bad eyesight, making him 4F status, and an agriculture exemption to stay home and provide for the nation’s food supply. This actually depressed him. All of his friends were going to war, he wanted to join them. Nobody was avoiding service. To feel some sort of purpose, he traveled to Ogden, Utah, during the winter months to work at the Defense Depot supplying necessary items for the war effort.

Last week, during one of my visits to a barely 96-year-old gentleman, I asked him about his thoughts on the current Russia/Ukraine situation. I asked him to compare it to the days of Hitler’s aggressive military moves in Europe. He related to me how it was in the early 1940s, as Hitler was making his moves and postulating aggression toward other countries. The unanimous feelings in society then was a mix of animosity toward Hitler and enthusiasm toward his defeat.

It eventually carried over to the Japanese as we entered the Pacific theater of war. I do remember my dad expressing some resentment toward Japan and anything produced in Japan. He held his tongue when I received my church mission call to — of all places — Sendai, Japan. He was not especially happy when I bought a Toyota Camry instead of an American-made automobile. Years later, I even received some verbal pushback from an associate of his when I bought a set of Toyo racing tires for my Camaro.

I never fully understood their grumblings until learning more about the history of WWII and how it affected their generation. By no means were these men racist, not at all. But the memories of the hard times impressed on our nation during the wars with Japan and Germany formed feelings in them that my generation didn’t understand. They still felt unwavering loyalty to their country and its manufactured goods.

Probably 10 years ago now, I had a patient and good friend in Smithfield, Utah. He had served as a Marine in WWII. He told me stories of his Purple Heart award and of watching from the bottom of the Iwo Jima hill as his fellow soldiers raised that flag we have all seen in the famous photograph. It gave me goosebumps to hear firsthand about his experiences and trauma. He spoke glowingly of his fellow Marines. He showed the greatest respect for current military members as well. His funeral was full of military honors with flags galore and honor guard at the cemetery. I will never forget the feelings evoked by my attendance at his service.

All four of the men I have mentioned in this story are/were good, patriotic, hard working, sacrificing men. They are members of what has been described as the greatest generation in history. Undoubtedly, there are men like them alive now, but we need more of them — many more.

I would love for us to approach something more like the “Era of Good Feelings” of President James Monroe’s tenure. We need more teamwork, less in fighting and more cohesiveness in not just our goals, but in our methods. I realize the men I speak of who have passed, cannot come back. But I wish they could. We need them; I need them. They knew how to fix a flat tire on my bike, change the oil on my car and protect the world from tyranny. They had economic common sense and tried to pass that knowledge on to me.

Let us all remember and learn more about men like that and their generation and try our best to emulate them. After all they did for us, we owe them that.

So to my dad Bud Thomas, George Wilcox, Mac Hymas and Private 1st Class Roland Hansen, I shout, “Thank you — job well done!”

Todd Thomas was born and raised in Preston. He’s currently serving his fourth term on the Preston City Council and works full time as a physical therapist. He can be reached at toddt@prestonid.us.