My grandfather, Robert Hill Barrow

When my grandfather passed away in September of 2005, my grandmother found a letter in a file that he had written in regards to his life.

He wrote about his "happy times" and things he enjoyed in his life. He said there was fly fishing, hunting, running the dated outboard on a lake, his hoetown, and being part of his school's band during its formative years. He said that all of the above helped "make growing up a wonderful time of life". And that of all of his pleasures and thrills could not be "better described than relating to the gift of a snowmobile" from his wife, Marty. That's my grandmother, Martha Jane Conrad.

"There are times when a few words can mean so very much. One of the most emotional times occurred when I returned home from the Philippines at the end of World War II, called my mother on the phone and in a very emotional state was able to uter two words, "I'm Home!"

Robert H. Barrow was born March 10, 1921 in Trout Run, Pennsylvania. He was the youngest of three c hildren. His father died when he was fairly young and he took over supporting the family. Needless to say, the family did not have a lot of money.

From the records I've seen, he was a fairly decent student in school. He played the trumpet in the high school band. One of the things that we would talk about and one of the few things we could relate about was that he was of small stature in school and took a lot of flak from the bullies for it.

His father, Frederick Wesley Barrow, died at the age of 40, leaving a wife and three young children. My grandfather was the youngest. His older sister, Harriette supported the family. She worked he way through college and heled my grandfather go to college as well. Education was very important to him, as he knew that education was important to be able to support yourself as you got older. They both attended Millersville State College, and both became teachers.

He was exceptionally talented with his hands and woodworking and recei ved his degree in Industrial Arts. Upon graduating his first job was at Keith Junior High School in Altoona, Pennsylvania.

It was during his first teaching assignment that he wrote to his mother his concern about the war. And as the was was accelerating, he kew that he would have to enlist.

According to the U.S. World War II Army Enlistment Records from 1938 to 1941, he enlisted on November 14, 1943 into the Army Reserves, Air Corp Branch and was listed as a machinist helper.

My first memories of my grandfather are great. He lived in Big Flats, New York in a small neighborhood. There was a small pond near his house and a trail going up through the woods up on a hill. And one of my earliest memories was of him taking me up the trail to gather acorns during the fall.

There are two other early memories of him that essentailly defined the conflict between us over the years.

He had a beautiful half acre lawn. And in it, there was a birch tree. I was too young to remember any sigifican details, however, I would assume that gypsy moths were a problem there. And he had set traps to capture them and prevent them from damaging the trees. One day I was playing in his yard and I saw the trap. I couldn't have been older than 6, so I had absolutely no understanding of how destructive gypsy mothers were. Al I know is that I wanted to save them. So I kept swatting at the trap, which was hanging from a tree limb to set them free. I guess my grandfather had seen me swatting at it. I don't remember any details, however, my mother tells me that he came running in the house yelling at my parents to do something. He was huffing and puffing telling my parents that I had said "But they have a right to live!" Apparently, everyone in the houses thought the whole scene was hilarious and couldn't stop laughing and my mother said, "well he has a point."

I inherited from my grandfather my love of fishing. Not that I ever wanted to kill the fish and eat them like he did on occasion. I just loved the sport of it and I absolutely loved going fishing with him. I remember that there were nights we would go searching for nightcrawlers in his yeard the night before. He'd hold a flashlight and we'd carefully walk around looking for them. As soon as we spotted them, I'd try to grab it before it dug back into the earth. After we got a few, I'd go and wash up and go to bed so at 5 or 6 o'clock in the morning, he could wake me up so we could go before sunrise.

We'd get to whatever pond or lake or river we were going to. But after we got there is what would also help to define the conflict between us as far as the actual fishing would go, it was his way or no way. He would want me to cast and simply leave the worm in the water and just wait for the bobber to move. Now, being 4, 5, or 6 years old, I didn't have patience. So I would slowly start to reel in. Very slowly. At first this was so I could hurry up and cast again. However, I quickly learned that the slightly movement would attract fish and I'd start to get bites. It didn't take me too long to get this method down pat. However, it didn't matter to my grandfather how many more fish I caught this way, or that I could catch nearly 10 to every one he caught. I was still doing it wrong, so it didn't matter that I caught more. My method was wrong.

His best friend from his early childhod days, Olen Smith, had also enlisted in the arm in June of 1944. He served in the European Theater and participated in the Battle of the Bulge. Sometime after the battle, he had been scheduled to return home; however, he was kept at the location and assigned to the burial detail. This severly impacted his life and like my grandfather, he never disclosed details of his ime. Though neither of them spoke much about what they have done or witnessed in the war, their participation seemed to bond their friendship. My grandmother got this little bit of information from Olen about one or two years before my grandfather's passing. She never realized the strength of the bond between them all of these years. Olen continues to send emails to my grandfather to this day, despite the fact my grandfather passed nearly 3 years ago.

When my grandfather enlised, he signd up as a tail gunner. His sister, Harriette was working for the State Department in D. C. and was so upset that she talked to some peole and had them get him reassigned. I know that he ended u swerving active duty in the Philippines as a Air Force maintainence man and that at some point he was working on teh B-17 that was parked somewhere close enough that he saw the Enola Gay, the B-29 that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, on August 6, 1945.

After the war, he contnued to serve his country as a n Air Force reservist, reaching and retired at the rank of Lt. Col. He went back to his teaching job, and my mother tells me that he was during this time he was actually supposed to have a date with my grandmother's sister, Winifred, but she stood him up and my grandmother stepped in.

My grandfather and grandmother, Martha Jane Conrad, started dating around 1948. While they were dating, my grandfather continued his education at Penn State University and obtained his Masters Degree. They were married in 1951 at St. James Lutheran Church in Altoona, Pennsylania. My Great Aunt Winifred was my grandmother's maid of honor.

In 1962, he received notice that he would be needed to return to active duty during the Bay of Pigs conflict with Cuba. At that time, the family had moved from Pennsylvania to New York State, where my mother and her sisters grew up. He was still a teacher at the time, being employed by the Steuben County School District and still taught Industrial Arts. He had started making all of the provision to go back to active duty. Fortunately, Cuba had backed down and my grandfather did not have to return to active duty.

Robert and Martha had three girls, the eldest being my mother. Her name is Susan and to her relief, thanks go to my Great Aunt Winifred. If my grandfather had his way, her name would have been Roberta. Winifred convinced him otherwise.