A WWII Army Veteran, my father told many stories of basic training at Schofield Barracks just outside of Honolulu. We heard about the 50-mile uphill marches while carrying 100-pound packs in the midday sun with 100 percent humidity. He described his boxing matches (he was super fit and trained hard, but got clobbered every time). We heard about surfing, pig roasts, and bonfires on the beach, many of which lasted until Reveille. We enjoyed my father’s stories very much, but we didn’t realize that he probably had more that he kept to himself.
When asked what she liked about volunteering she said, "I like to help others. There is nothing more special than to walk into a patient’s home or room and see their eyes light up and a smile come on their faces. They may not remember my name, but they seem to know me."