My name is John K. Spitzberg, and I am 87 years old. Presently, I live in the Atrium in NW Gainesville, an independent living facility. I came to Gainesville to recover from spinal cord surgery and to live close to my granddaughter, Emily, who is studying nursing at UF. I’ve been here for close to one and a half years with Reba III, my beloved emotional support dog. She is my constant companion and cheers up most of the residents at the Atrium.
Growing up in Washington D.C., I left to join the Army in 1958. Two years in an artillery unit in Germany, a marriage to a German national who is deceased, and a final year at Ft. Meade, Maryland was how I served my active duty in the Army during the Cold War. I was assigned to write articles for the Fifth Corps Guardian and Stars and Stripes. I also served in a Reserve Engineering Company for two years.
My mom had a friend who advised me to go to a teacher’s college in Pennsylvania, which I did between the Army and Air Force. A wonderful recruiter from the Air Force assigned in Carlisle, PA, the home of the Indian College to which the legendary Jim Thorpe went, stuck with me through my undergraduate program with a promise that when I graduated, I could go to Officers Training School and become a 2nd Lieutenant. For those of us who had been enlisted people the program was a breeze, not so for those just joining. The training instructors threatened all sorts of punishments short of taking our first born, but we old-timers knew it was a joke. I graduated and stayed for three years as a training officer in the Basic Training Command.
The Base was ravaged by spinal meningitis, so I was glad to be assigned to lead a squadron of Basics to Amarillo to complete their training. By that time I was a Captain. We had two baby sons. I had a lieutenant, Jim, who’d been a farmer. My wife called me to tell me her water had broken. I grabbed Jim and drove like a Nascar driver to our home fully expecting to use his talents of delivering calves. But he didn’t have to deliver Jerry.
In 1967, I went to Rabbinical School, loved the scholarship and study, but not the boredom of everyday study … We were in Cincinnati, and I became a special education teacher in a new program for emotionally disabled kids. Martin Luther King was assassinated in ‘68 and I watched all hell break loose with a good part of Avondale in flames.
Moving from Ohio to Chicago to work in another program for disturbed children, I served in National Guard unit where I was promoted to Major. A couple of temporary duty tours permitted me to attend the new Human Relations program because there was an upheaval between races, sexes and people with different lifestyles in the military service. Those were tough times in our armed forces.
As a senior citizen, I lived for two and a half years in Ha Noi, Viet Nam where I worked with Vietnamese young people affected by Agent Orange and I taught English. I volunteered in Romania and very briefly in Odessa, Ukraine helping refugees escape from war. I was at Occupy Wall St in NYC. Spent time at Standing Rock, North Dakota as a medic, 9th Ward in New Orleans after Katrina and shorter stints where needed. Slowing down but not finished by long shot.
Now, our country is led by people with little or no respect for our military veterans. We, in the Veterans For Peace and About Face are dedicated to seeing the end of fascism and complete disregard for democratic and representative government. What transpired at the June 14th military parade in Washing D.C. was a travesty. Money which could be used for human services was squandered to celebrate a politician’s birthday. Shame! I was there with my brothers and sister veterans and friends. We were denied the right to sit on the Capitol steps and when we didn’t leave, we were arrested. We were peaceful. The police were not. We spent 12 hours locked up. It was my honor to be a part of this action.
My motto is taken from the wisdom of the ages. “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if am only for myself, what am I and if not now when?” The “when” is now. Join the local Veterans For Peace chapter whether a veteran or not.