About a month ago, as I was allowing my brain to be numbed by some mindless comedy on TV the telephone range. The caller ID popped up on the screen and identified the caller as Willard Ellis, cousin in northeastern Colorado. I immediately imagined the worst in the form of a telephone call from my cousin, but was I ever wrong.
As I answered the call, Willard asked a couple of interesting questions and then rolled out a tale regarding a recent telephone call that he had received.
He asked me first, “Who is Marty?” He of course knew the name Martin Struempler, our grandfather, but also knew that he never went by Marty.
“Is that Delvin?” he inquired. He of course was referring to my older brother Delvin Martin Struempler. I told him that this was Delvin, and while all of us knew him only as Delvin as we were growing up, I also knew that when he joined the Air Force after high school that he started going by Marty.
Delvin was an old German family name that was shared by him and our father Elmer Delvin Struempler. I guess that after he graduated from high school and left home that he had had enough of the weird German name and started using his middle name. All of his Air Force contacts knew him as Marty.
Willard then began telling me about a telephone call that he had received regarding a woman trying to track down a member of Marty’s family in order to return a family ring. Forty years ago, while Delvin (Marty) was stationed at Offutt Air Force Base, Omaha, Nebraska, he met and feel in love with a girl named Bonnie Rogers. They had dated off and on for several months, and at some point Delvin gave her a “promise” ring. He had told her that this ring was one that had been given to him by his mother, and had been given to her by her mother. Bonnie had for many years been trying to return the ring to the family since it was clearly a family heirloom.
This information all came as a surprise to me. I knew nothing of the girl friend, or the ring. Willard gave me contact number for Bonnie and so I placed the call. I had no idea what the story would turn out to be.
I called Bonnie and identified myself as Richard Struempler, Delvin or Marty’s younger brother. Bonnie then began the tale of her and Marty.
It is worth noting at this point that Delvin Martin Struempler was killed in a car wreck early on a Sunday morning, in August, 1969, 40 years ago.
Bonnie told me that she had met Marty while he was stationed there in the Air Force. She said that it was love at first sight. They dated for several months and then were apart for a short period, but had gotten back together. That was when he gave her the “promise” ring that had originally belonged to our grandmother.
She told me about the last night that they spent together, how they had gone out for the evening and ended up back at his apartment listening to music, lying in his arms. She described watching these light boxes that flashed in rhythm to the music.
“Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed at this information, “You mean the psychedelic lights that he had?” I had inherited his stereo equipment and included with the speakers where these two light boxes that attached to each speaker. The lights flashed on and off with the music. I knew for sure that she knew my brother.
She described by brother as a real gentleman; kind and considerate and thoughtful. As his brother, I never saw that side of him, but I guess believe that it was there, just never shared with his kid-brother.
Knowing that Marty had an early flight that next morning, Bonnie left and went home. Later that morning Bonnie called the apartment to check with Marty’s roommate to make sure he made his fight.
“He’s dead!” was the short message that she received from the roommate. “Call the Sheriff’s Department; he was killed this morning in a car accident.” That was August 1969.
After his death, she was unable to connect with any of Marty’s family, and since she was not related, the Air Force could not share any contact information. She told me then that she has always loved my brother and that even after forty years that the love was still there.
She then told me about the ring. He had given it to her as a “promise” ring, but knowing that it was a family heirloom always felt that it needed to be returned to the family. The problem she faced over the previous 40 years was trying to locate a member of the family. She kept it in a safety deposit box and never wore it.
She finally came across an obituary for Martin Struempler, my grandfather, and in it, the children were listed, plus a note that “He was preceded in death by a grandson, Delvin Martin Struempler.” She knew that this was the right connection. The obituary listed a son, Willard Ellis, my uncle, living in Holyoke, Colorado. She called Directory Assistance and found a listing for Willard Ellis and called that number. What she didn’t realize was the Willard she was looking for has passed away several years prior, but my cousin of the same name, still lived there. That was how the connection was made.
The only thing that she asked for was a picture of Marty. They had never taken any pictures and so all she had were those in her memory. I quickly provided her with several photos including the last ones ever taken of Marty over the July 4th weekend in Amherst, Colorado, while I was visiting with him and our grandparents. Little did I realize at the time that while the intent of the visit was to see our grandfather who was in failing health, that this would be the last time I would see my brother, at least on this side of the veil.
I few days ago a package arrived in the mail. The ring was home.
I had very mixed feelings about this whole course of events. With the telephone call came a whole flood of memories back from 40 years. Things that while I would think about on occasion, were now very sharp and clear again. Melancholy is probably the best words to describe my feelings for several days. There was a feeling of comfort discovering that before my brother died, that he had found someone that he cared about very much and that shared that love for him. Somehow it made me feel a little better about his early passing, that he had found love in his life.
I will always be grateful to the persistence of the love that Bonnie had for him and her continuing efforts to connect with his family. I know of very few people in the world who would strive for 40 years to do the right thing. For the love that she had for my brother and for the character that she possesses to do the right thing, I will always be grateful.
A miracle was once defined as the right thing happening when it needs to happen, and this clearly falls into that category of being one of life’s miracles.
God bless you Bonnie.
Of course no celebration would be complete without Mickey.
Papa and Grandma alway enjoy the younger crowd.
The boys are always good for some crazy fun.
Looks like Reagan found a friend with good taste in Disney outfits.
I couldn't resist the photo-op with Minney.
