1943 Halftrack 

It’s a small world, and the Kidd proved to be only the first of many ships in my life.  My father-in-law belongs to the ship modelers’ club.  Club members build intricate, exact replicas that are true works of art.  My father-in-law’s specialty is building ships in bottles.  Several years ago, the Baton Rouge Ship Modelers held a show in a vacant building next the Louisiana Arts and Science Center.  From that show and the club members’ love of ships grew a dream to build a naval museum in connection with the U.S.S. Kidd Battleship.  Eventually, the Louisiana Naval Museum was commissioned.

Tens of thousands of volunteer hours have been poured into the Naval Museum and U.S.S. Kidd Battleship.  The model ships are displayed on the second floor.  On the terrace is a P40 Flying Tiger.  My husband, who repairs and paints cars by trade, fabricated the machine guns on the wings and painted the camouflage on the plane.  General Chenault’s widow attended the ceremony at which the plane was dedicated in his honor.

Over the years, my family has been privileged to participate in several projects at the Naval Museum.  My father donated a set of blueprints for the Kidd’s cradle to the museum as an exhibit.  My father-in-law continues to guide tours.  My father-in-law, husband and sons have traveled to pick up exhibits and have been guests to sail on tall ships and submarines.  My sons have spent the night on the Kidd, as have most children in Baton Rouge.  The museum’s most ambitious project is its Vietnam Memorial.  My husband volunteered to paint the plane for this project.  A plane-no, this was a jet, barged from Memphis to Baton Rouge and housed at McKinney Towing while the exterior was restored.  For five months every spare moment was dedicated to refurbishing this jet.  Businesses and individuals donated resources and labor to complete the memorial.  The pedestal to hold the jet was erected.  The area was landscaped.

When completed, the massive jet was concealed by tarps and transported to its place of honor.  On Memorial Day 1994, dedication ceremonies were held.  Proud veterans and public officials spoke.  Then all turned their attention to the jet.  A hush fell over the crowd.  Anticipation hung in the air.  As rain began to fall, almost like tears for the dead, the veil was lifted.  Before us majestically appeared a new symbol of pride.  Pride for the men of our country who lived and died for our safety and freedom.  As I stood there in the rain, tears flowing down my cheeks, I thought of the men in my family.  My father, my father-in-law and my husband have left their mark on this world and in my heart.  Our sons have been privileged to participate.

One day I’ll bring my grandchildren to the Museum.  With pride, I’ll describe the cradle, the P41, the model ships and the jet.  I’ll tell about the men who made it all possible.  And then, I’ll buy them T-shirts and hope they’ll carry on the tradition.

Dedicated to B. Houston Neal, my father; John M. Spink, Sr., my father-in-law; and John M. Spink, Jr., my husband.  By:  Ann SpinkI

My father left his mark on this world.  An architectural draftsman by trade, he was a humble man-not great by the world’s standards.  Shortly after he died, my mother, my sons, and I returned to Oklahoma City where we used to live.  As we drove through the city, Mom showed my children, Aaron and Micah, the Boy Scouts of America building and several churches.  Her pride was evident as she explained that Dad had drawn the plans for these buildings.

My earliest memories of Baton Rouge include Dad’s showing me a scale model of the soon-to-be-built skyscraper that now houses Banc One on Fourth Street.  He explained that he’d worked on the project that designed and drew the plans for the building; This model was constructed from those plans just as the building soon would be.

Sometimes Dad took our family for Sunday afternoon drives down River Road.  While showing us elevators and holding tanks he helped design, he would explain how these structures were the technical foundations on which these massive plants operated.  Designing mazes of pipe and industrial mechanics was how he spent his days.

By far, Dad’s greatest excitement came when he helped draw plans for the cradle that holds the U.S.S. Kidd.  I can remember Dad at dinner, explaining how the Kidd rests in the cradle when the Mississippi’s waters are low.  As the water rises, the Kidd floats out of the cradle and frolics with the flowing river.  My sons proudly wore the first T-shirts ever printed for the U.S.S. Kidd.

The Men in My Life