Would like to say God Bless all of you that served and would also like to share a story about two sailors someone may remember. My father, Thomas H. Pringle spent a great deal of time on the Coral Sea, out of Alameda, CA. We lived in Corpus Christi, TX when my father received orders for Whidbey Island for one year in late 1977 or early 1978. During that time a heart murmur was detected. He had two open heart surgeries at Lackland AFB, San Antonio and was forced into retirement after 21+ years of Naval service. Upon "retirement," he took a position as chief of maintenance at a Robstown, TX hospital. He, at the age of 39, tragically drown in Lake Mathis, TX (now Lake Corpus Christi) along with a co-worker, age 29, when a "Norther" blew through on January 6, 1979. I was 16 at the time and took it very hard.

I eventually returned to our hometown of Willow Springs, MO and the years passed. My wife and I bought a small cafe (bought a job) while we worked our way through college. One day when the lunch rush was over, she went to the dining room for a glass of tea. There she struck up a conversation with a gentleman that introduced himself - Martin Young. My wife stated that her maiden name was Young but it was now Pringle. Mr. Young said, "Pringle, I was in the Navy with a guy named Pringle - Tom Pringle." My wife said, "that is my husbands name, I bet you knew his father." Mr. Young stated that he knew Tom Pringle, that the last time he had seen him was in Da Nang in '68. My wife informed him of my father's death. Mr. & Mrs. Young and I met a couple of days later at the cafe where Mr. Young spoke of my father's professionalism, leadership qualities, and integrity (Coral Sea's Sailor of the Month July or August 1970 & finalist for PacFleet Sailor of the Year).

Mr. Young said that my father often spoke of the Ozarks and the work ethic of the salt-of-the-earth type people that inhabited the hills and hollows here while he was growing up on a rural Texas County farm. Mr. Young went on to say that he made a mental note to visit the Ozarks upon his retirement. When he and his wife passed through they fell in love with the place and settled here in Willow Springs,MO, my father's hometown. You know, I can look from my front porch across the street and see the backside of Mr. Martin Young's home on the next street - two sailors proudly serving their country a half-a-world away in 1968 and one ends up moving across the street from the son of his fellow sailor. Small world.

I hope I have not offended anyone by taking up this hallowed space but I felt compelled to share this after reading of the mighty Coral Sea, a portrait of which still hangs in my home, taken returning to Alameda as she steamed beneath the Golden Gate Bridge and into San Francisco Bay.

I regret that I never got a chance to walk the deck that all of you and my father walked, and felt the souls of those that came before. As I grow older my respect grows for what each of you and your families sacrificed for this country and our way of life. God Bless you all.