To some of you on my various lists, it’s not news that my brother Jake died yesterday, at the VA hospital-nursing home in N. Chicago.  To others it’s of only passing interest.  Anyhow, it’s on my mind these days, so communications will be limited. 
 
He was six years my senior, a WW2 Army Air Corps vet who at 19 had to bail out of the bomber whose tail gunner he was on his 30th mission at 25,000 feet over Germany, in November of 1944.  Wounded by shrapnel and bullet, he landed all right and spent 6 months as a prisoner.  We got word on Mother’s Day, 1945, in a telephone call about 6 pm.  My father put down the phone and yelled, “Jack is free!”
 
When he met my father at Fort Sheridan in the following summer, he ran to see him — because he knew my parents would have been worrying about his physical condition.  In fact, that’s why only my father drove out from Oak Park to get him: he didn’t want my mother to see him banged up if that was the case.  Such was the concern they all had for each other.
 
Jake lived most recently in Gurnee with his loving, extremely caring wife Lynne.  They had married 23 years ago, both having lost their spouses.  Jake’s sons Mark and Dan survive him, plus grandchildren and a great grandchild.
 
If you are among those who want to wish him well in his heavenly home at wake and/or funeral mass and burial, the former is at Marsh funeral home in Gurnee on Friday, 5 to 9, the latter at St. Thomas the Apostle Church, also in Gurnee, Saturday, 9 (more wake) and 10 (mass), with burial at Ascension cemetery, in Libertyville.