Emily Dickinson’s tribute to books

Unto my Books—so good to turn—

Far ends of tired Days—

It half endears the Abstinence—

And Pain—is missed—in praise—

As Flavors—cheer Retarded Guests

With Banquettings to be—

So Spices—stimulate the time

Till my small Library—

It may be Wilderness—without—

Far feet of failing Men—

But Holiday—excludes the night—

And it is Bells—within—

I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf—

Their Countenances Kid

Enamor—in Prospective—

And satisfy—obtained—

Holy Stone on the Vestal

On the trip to Pearl in 1941, my dad, Frank Dolan, was on the deck force in the forward section of the Vestal. There he said he learned how to “holy stone” the wooden deck of the ship (a method by which a brick, attached to a broom handle, is used to scrub the deck). He also learned to climb up the forward mast to the crow’s nest as a lookout. From there, he said, he could “holler down a funnel connected to the tube to someone at the other end [who] could hear the message.”

About his first few weeks on his ship, Dad said, “[Vestal] was an old ship.  Most of the men didn’t have regular bunks or hammocks in which to sleep, just cots with mattresses. These had to be stowed somewhere out of the way during the day. I usually slept on the deck someplace out of the weather. The petty officers, those with a stripe and an eagle, slept in the ship on cots.”

Source: Frank L. Dolan's personal account

Assignment: USS Vestal

Having just been assigned duty on the USS Vestal, my dad, Frank Dolan, took a Greyhound bus from his home in San Diego to San Pedro, where he went aboard his first ship on this date in 1941. He will be leaving for Pearl Harbor in a few days. He and his good friend, Guy Long, were buddies together in service school. Long was assigned to Vestal's shipfitter shop while Dad was assigned to the welding shop.

Sources: Frank L. Dolan's Service Records and personal account; USS Vestal Muster Roll, September 1941

The Debt We Owe to Authors

Those of us who have been true readers all our life seldom fully realize the enormous extension of our being which we owe to authors. We realize it best when we talk with an unliterary friend. He may be full of goodness and good sense but he inhabits a tiny world. In it, we would be suffocated. The man who is contented to be only himself, and therefore less a self, is in prison. My own eyes are not enough for me, I will see through those of others. Reality, even seen through the eyes of many, is not enough. Even the eyes of all humanity are not enough.

C.S. Lewis, An Experiment in Criticism

Making Haste Slowly

“To be genuinely wise,” wrote Ben Franklin, “one must make haste slowly.” I like that. I’ve spent the first part of my life being way too impatient, too eager for quick results.

God has a better plan. Psalm 37 is a reminder to “Trust in the Lord... Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart.” Indeed, the whole Psalm speaks of trusting, resting, and waiting–Christian virtues that are mainly learned in God’s school of patience.

Certainly, the Lord knows the desires of our hearts, for He gave them to us. But often for a while He wants to teach us to wait patiently in hope, while we learn to delight ourselves in Him. Postponed longing is painful for the moment, but reliance on God to fulfill our desires in His time is truly faith in practice.

So, in the second half of my life I’m going to try to make haste a little more slowly. Some of my later blogs may reflect on how I’m doing.

The USS Vestal (AR-4) in 1941

While the USS Vestal was being overhauled in the shipyard at Vallejo, CA, my dad, Frank L. Dolan, was in service school from May through August 1941. Dad will be assigned to Vestal at San Pedro on September 10, 1941.

Launching of Vestal in Brooklyn in 1908
Source: Wikipedia

The USS Vestal, was the first of a class of two 12,585-ton colliers. It was placed in service with a civilian crew in October 1909, and she spent the next 3 years in the Atlantic providing coal to the ships of the fleet, including one voyage to Europe for that purpose. Taken out of service in October 1912, Vestal was converted into a repair ship (receiving the hull designation AR-4 in 1920) and placed in commission in that role in September 1913. Into 1917, she served mainly in the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico. Shortly after the United States entered the First World War, Vestal's area of operation was moved to Queenstown, Ireland, where she maintained U.S. ships engaged in anti-submarine escort and other wartime duties. Returning to the U.S. at the end of WWI, the Vestal continued her repair mission over the next two decades. She was modernized in 1925. Vestal supported the salvage of the sunken submarine Squalus in 1925-26, then shifted her base from the Atlantic to the Pacific in 1927. Refitted again in 1941, she was on her way to join the coming war in the Pacific.

When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, Vestal, on which my dad Frank Dolan was stationed, was moored outboard of the battleship Arizona, awaiting repairs scheduled for the next day.

USS Vestal in 1939, prior to refitting
Source: Naval Historical Center

The USS Vestal served the Pacific faithfully throughout WWII, all the way to performing vital service functions supporting the occupation of China and Japan. She received 2 battle stars for her war service. Vestal was ultimately decommissioned in 1946. She was stripped in 1949, and like most of the ships that helped to win the war, her hulk was sold for scrap in 1950.

Sources: Frank L. Dolan's personal account;  Naval Warfare; Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships

70 Years Ago: From High School to Boot Camp

My dad, Frank Dolan, graduated early from San Diego High School in California on this date 70 years ago. Just 7 days later, he was a “boot” at the United States Naval Training Center, "a Valentine gift to the Navy," as he once wrote. The pay in boot camp was $21.00 a month. Next was service school where he learned the fundamentals of welding, shipfitting, pipe work, and foundrywork. He put in his “chit” for the weld shop and became a “striker.”

In August 1941, Dad passed his exams for service school as a metalsmith, and on September 10, went aboard the repair ship, USS Vestal, at San Pedro, California. He was a Seaman, 2nd Class as he took his first tour of the deck force and his new assignment, the welding shop.

Like many other Americans, he could see that the country was being pulled into war, although most eyes were drawn east toward Europe. But 3 months after service school, while on board the Vestal at Pearl Harbor, my 18-year old father would be a witness to the surprise attack from the West, and with it, America's entrance into WWII.

To my shame, as a boy I was not always a good listener when Dad wanted to talk about his experiences. But over time I have tried to rectify that by writing out his account of the war, collecting items he wrote or recorded, and together with other research I've been able to do, write out a more comprehensive account of his years in the service. Dad is no longer with us, but in this 70th year since the start of the war, I plan to honor his contribution to the effort, provide his insight where he offered it,  and commemorate the events he witnessed from 1941-1946.