85 Years

It was 85 years ago today that my dad, Bob Campbell, was born.  As my brother Jay has been going through the family photos, he came across these classics from Dad's 1955-56 tour as a military assistance advisor in Iran.  He spoke Farsi and taught soldiers marksmanship and other skills.  He was probably 29 years old in these photos.  Handsome. Worldly. Curious. Adventuresome.  He lived long enough to see Iran go from an American ally to a fierce opponent and international scoundrel.  Still, his recollections were mostly positive:  about a welcoming people who greeted him and his colleagues with respect.  

A year ago today, a large gathering of family and friends met in Albuquerque to celebrate his life.  We shared stories of his stories: of landing on clouds and being stuck for days, of eating purloined canned peaches from the commissary, of night flights in wounded airplanes over hostile territory, of escorting Soviet leader Nikita Krushchev and French President De Gaulle through San Francisco, and of sending a box of pipe cleaners to General MacArthur's table in a Phillipines mess tent.   

He led a life of adventure and service, and was a patriot. As we said last year, a grateful family and nation thank him for his life and work.   Happy 85th, Dad.  Rest in Peace.