Chief Petty Officer Kenneth Harvey

Lately I haven't mentioned too many names in my blog, but today is different because it is Pearl Harbor Day and Chief Petty Officer Kenneth Harvey deserves to be recognized by name. I hope I got his military rank right. I knew him as "Mr. Harvey."

Mr. Harvey was my best friend's father. He was a short, rather round man with a balding head and a straight-forward demeanor. I never heard him raise his voice. I did hear him tell his daughters and me to "knock it off", but rarely. He married a wonderful woman who was incredibly intelligent. He raised two incredibly intelligent daughters. He supported their intelligence and creativity. He wasn't an insecure man.

The Harvey household and farm was a bit of Heaven for me as a child. All of life's dramas and comedies played out on that land. They played out with wonderful twists, though.

The Harvey's had a jukebox that played old records from Spike Jones and the City Slickers and the Andrews sisters in a shed out in the yard. We played that thing whenever Mr. Harvey would let us. The three of us would pretend we were the Andrews sisters and put on shows in the yard.

Mr. Harvey drove a panel van that I was told was an armored van. Many times he stored hay inside it. My best friend and I would create a cove inside and read Shakespeare.

The Harveys also had horses, and many, many days were spent playing with horses and reading Shakespeare on horseback. The Shakespeare was Mrs. Harvey's influence hard at work. The horses were happy to graze while we laid on their backs reading out-loud. They were also happy to shift a little and roll us off their backs when they got bored with us. Mostly we rode bareback with or without a halter or bridle. We didn't fear the horses; we respected them. Mr. Harvey taught us not to fear the horses and to have respect for their size and personalities. He loved his horses.

One of the stories I've told throughout the years is of a night when Mr. Harvey's favorite Morgan mare was giving birth. It's a tale out a James Harriet book complete with kerosene lamps lighting a hay-filled stall in a barn on a cold night, children in pajamas, a worried "father", and a less than enthusiastic veterinarian. If I hadn't witnessed this little bit of life, my life would not be as complete as it is. I saw a side of Mr. Harvey that I had never seen before and never saw again. I saw a man take charge of a situation in spite of his fear and lack of knowledge. I saw him succeed in birthing the foal himself while keeping a calm and confident demeanor for the sake of his mare and his children. I was a the man stick his arm inside that horse, turn the foal around and bring it back out nose first. He became my hero that night.

I didn't know at the time that Mr. Harvey was a real-life hero. I can see now that birthing that foal the way he did came from an experience that was far more serious and frightening.

I was told later by my best friend that her dad had been at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1942. He was on a ship in the harbor that was hit, but he ended up in the water. His buddy also ended up in the water, but was injured. Mr. Harvey grabbed his friend and swam two miles back to shore. Mr. Harvey saved his buddy and himself through bombs, bullets, smoke, fire and sinking ships. He was there that day; that day that we honor today in America and every December 7th until this country ceases to exist.

His experiences during the attack on Pearl Harbor stayed with him throughout this life. Whether or not he had any bad memories, I don't know. What I do know is that he had a great perspective on life. He treated people with kindness and humor and a certain sternness that was not to be argued with. He loved his wife and children wholeheartedly. I even think he might have loved me a bit. He sure smiled a lot when I was around. Mr. Harvey loved life.

Mr. Harvey is also responsible for my father taking his first ever plane ride and changing his perspective on military service. You see, my father started a Job Fair at the high school. When the booths were set up, my father put the military booths way back in the darkest corner he could find. My dad was and still is a pacifist. Mr. Harvey was a Navy Recruiter. The fact that their daughters were best friends is a tribute to both men, and something that also shaped my views on life. The thing is that Mr. Harvey approached my father one year about the placement of his booth. My father explained his position. Mr. Harvey countered that maybe my dad didn't know as much about the Navy as he thought he did; and that, it might be a good thing if Dad visited Annapolis. Mr. Harvey made the arrangements, and my dad flew to Annapolis, Maryland.

Upon my father's return, he was a changed man. Dazzled by what he had seen, my dad came to believe that maybe the Navy wasn't so bad after all. He returned with pictures of men in white uniforms and sparkling white shoes on green, green grass. I think I got a t-shirt, too. Mr. Harvey got a better booth placement, but not the other branches of the military. Both men laughed.

Today, I will be thinking of Mr. Harvey and all his goodness. I'll be thinking about how grateful I am that he was the man that he was; and that, I got to know him for a brief moment in my life. His daughters have grown into fine women, and his wife is still alive, I believe. As an outsider looking in, I think they are all very lucky to have had him in their lives. I know that I was very lucky to have such a wonderfully balanced man who seemed to have it all in perspective in my life.

Besides, he was fun. He used to take us to Madison to the Naval Recruiting office or somewhere like that. There was a gym with a mock ship with "steering wheel" above it. We played for hours pretending to be pirates and Navy captains if we weren't playing basketball or tag or hide-and-go-seek. Mr. Harvey provided me with a very eclectic childhood through his own actions and simply by being the bread-winner for a wonderful family of creative, intelligent, outside-the-box kind of people.

So today, I'll remember that war is made up of people. Pearl Harbor Day is more than an abstract remembrance of an event. Pearl Harbor Day is a day to remember our humanity; be it good or bad. Pearl Harbor Day for all we've come to learn is still a day to honor those who experienced it and how it impacted their lives. In my case, I am very, very lucky that Mr. Harvey seemed to take his experience and make his life such a good one. He is a credit to the Navy, and more importantly to the human race.

Rest in Peace, Sir. You are missed.