Good
morning!
Almost
a
hundred
years
ago
in
1913,
Webster’s
dictionary
defined
the
word
hero
as
“A
man
of
distinguished
valor,
enterprise
in
danger,
or
fortitude
in
suffering”
It
is
my
great
honor
to
be
here
this
morning
to
tell
you
a
story
of
a
hero.
To
recount
his
struggles
in
the
face
of
incredible
adversity,
and
his
faith
and
courage
to
overcome
them,
this
is
not
intended
to
be
a
history
lesson.
Now
I
can
see
some
of
you
getting
starry‐eyed
thinking
of
your
favorite
character
in
your
favorite
book
and
their
personal
battles
to
survive
the
day
to
tell
the
tale.
You
are
in
luck,
because
that
is
precisely
the
kind
of
story
I
am
about
to
tell
you.
So,
here
it
goes……
[A
long
time
ago….in
a
galaxy
far,
far
away….wait…no,
that’s
not
the
right
story…most
of
you
have
heard
that
one
before.
(Shuffle
Papers)
]
Woops…wait
a
minute….OK
now...here
we
go.
It
all
begins
way
back
in
the
year
1918
in
the
sleepy
town
of
Villanova,
PA.
A
baby
boy
was
born
in
a
house
that
was
3
doors
down
from
the
trolley
station
across
from
Villanova
College.
That’s
right….College.
This
house
was
were
those
big
parking
lots
are
now,
and
was
directly
across
Lancaster
Ave.
from
what
you
now
known
as
Villanova
University.
He
is
the
second
born
son
of
Colonel
William
Innes
Forbes
and
Daisy
Coxe
Wright
Forbes.
His
name
is
Francis
Coxe
Forbes,
and
he
is
my
Great‐Uncle.
I
have
always
known
him
as
Uncle
Frank.
Now
it
turns
out
that
Uncle
Frank
is
one
of
you.
He
attended
Episcopal
Academy
from
1927
to
1933,
and
then
went
to
St.
George’s
School
in
Newport,
RI
for
his
3rd
through
6th
forms.
After
that,
the
University
of
Pennsylvania
where
he
had
“kept
his
grades
up
to
scratch”
and
graduated
in
January
of
‘41.
At
this
time,
The
United
States
was
not
officially
at
war,
but
all
of
Europe
was,
and
all
indicators
were
pointing
to
the
US
entering
the
war
at
some
point
in
the
near
future.
December
7th
of
that
year
the
US
was
attacked
by
the
Empire
of
Japan
at
Pearl
Harbor
and
shortly
thereafter
the
US
officially
entered
the
Second
World
War.
Uncle
Frank
joined
the
Military
in
January
of
1942.
He
was
fascinated
with
flying,
so
he
joined
the
US
Army
Air
Corps.
He
went
to
a
number
of
bases
in
Florida
and
Alabama
to
learn
how
to
be
a
fighter
pilot.
He
graduated
from
flight
school
in
September
of
1942
and
went
to
Sarasota,
FL
to
fly
aircobras
until
December.
After
receiving
his
pilot
rating
in
the
P‐40e
Kittyhawk,
he
got
his
orders
transferring
him
to
the
newly
designated
14th
Air
Force.
Major
General
Clair
Chennault
was
the
commanding
officer
of
this
unit.
Some
of
you
may
have
heard
of
this
unit
before,
they
were
known
as
the
“Flying
Tigers”.
He
arrived
at
his
unit’s
base
of
operations
in
Yunnan‐Yi,
China
in
the
beginning
of
September
of
’43
(the
following
year).
It’s
OK,
I
had
no
idea
where
this
was
either,
so…
I,
as
everyone
of
the
modern
age
does,
Googled
it.
It
turns
out
that
this
spot
on
a
map
is
about
140
miles
northwest
of
Kunming
in
Southwestern
China.
It
is
literally
half‐way
around
the
world.
Here
is
an
excerpt
of
an
earlier
interview
with
Uncle
Frank:
“It
was
October
and
the
rice
was
ripe
for
harvesting
and
the
Japanese
wanted
the
rice
to
feed
their
troops
and
we
were
trying
to
stop
them.
They
wanted
the
rice.
They
did
not
want
the
land
or
anything
like
that…they
wanted
the
rice
and
we
tried
to
stop
them,
but
we
couldn’t.
It
was
in
southwestern
China
around
the
Salween
River
and
that
was
the
sort
of
dividing
line
between
the
Japanese
Imperial
Army
and
the
Chinese
Nationalists.
One
of
the
efforts
was
to
dive
bomb
the
troop
concentrations
trying
to
take
the
rice
harvest
and
that’s
when
they
shot
2
of
us
down.
We
had
taken
off
from
Yunaan‐Yi
at
11:00am
on
the
morning
of
October
17th.
Out
target
was
Lu‐Ku.
I
was
the
last
plane
of
4
in
the
line
to
make
strafing
runs
and
drop
bombs
on
enemy
units.
As
we
commenced
our
run,
I
had
dropped
all
of
my
bombs,
then
blam….they
had
got
me.
Another
guy
ahead
of
me,
he
got
hit
too,
but
he
just
disappeared.
Don’t
know
what
happened
to
him.
Fellow
named
Jackson.
The
other
two
planes
between
us
made
it
through
without
getting
hit.
The
other
two
pilots
saw
me
go
in,
so
they
circled
around
and
saw
my
parachute
on
the
ground.
They
circled
around
again
and
my
parachute
was
gone.
Whey
they
made
it
back
to
base,
they
reported
what
they
had
seen.”
On
October
22,
1943,
Half
a
world
away
in
Villanova,
PA,
there
came
a
Western
Union
Telegram.
Uncle
Frank’s
mother
went
down
to
the
station
to
pick
it
up.
This
is
essentially
what
it
said:
“We
regret
to
inform
you
that
during
combat
action
in
the
China,
Burma,
India
Theater
of
operations,
between
October
17
and
October
21,
1943,
your
beloved
son,
Francis
Coxe
Forbes,
while
flying
a
combat
sortie,
was
shot
down
by
enemy
ground
fire.
He
is
missing
in
Action
and
Presumed
Dead.”
In
the
days
after
receiving
this
heartbreaking
news,
his
mother
decided
to
honor
Uncle
Frank’s
memory
by
commissioning
a
cross
to
be
given
to
the
Episcopal
Academy
in
his
honor
with
the
following
inscription:
“In
Memoriam
Dierum…October
17‐21‐1943….Lt.
Francis
Coxe
Forbes….U.S.A.A.F.”
If
you
are
interested
in
seeing
this
cross,
it’s
on
display
during
every
Middle
school
chapel
service.
For
the
past
70
years,
this
cross
has
been
serving
The
Episcopal
Academy
and
its
students
by
leading
the
clergy
into
chapel
for
their
services.
This
in
itself
would
be
a
great
place
to
end
this
story,
but
wait,
our
hero’s
not
finished
yet…
You
see,
even
though
everyone
feared
the
worst,
they
came
to
find
out
about
4
weeks
later,
to
quote
Mark
Twain,
“the
report
of
my
death
was
an
exaggeration”.
Uncle
Frank
was
shot
down,
but
he
did
not
pay
the
ultimate
sacrifice.
He
had
survived!
And
here’s
the
rest
of
his
story:
INTERVIEWER:
Was
that
the
scariest
moment
of
your
life?
FRANK
RESPONDED:
Ahhh…No.
I
really
was
not
frightened.
I
was
curious.
I
said
to
myself
“What’s
going
on…is
this
death?”…No
So
I
had
to
get
out
of
the
airplane
because
I
had
been
hit
and
was
losing
altitude.
I
had
an
oxygen
mask
on,
so
when
I
was
engulfed
in
flames,
I
inhaled
violently.
With
the
oxygen
mask
on,
this
saved
me
from
inhaling
all
of
the
flames
and
hot
gas
which
would
have
killed
me
right
away.
So
I
figured
and
asked
myself
again
“Was
this
death?”
No…it
wasn’t
death,
so
I
pulled
my
rip
cord
out
of
my
seat
and
I
started
to
climb
out.
When
I
finally
got
out
of
the
cockpit
and
jumped
clear
of
the
plane
I
looked
into
what
appeared
to
me
to
be
pitch
black
and
I
saw
a
patch
of
white
light
out
of
my
right
eye,
and
out
of
my
left
eye,
I
saw
a
man
standing
there
next
to
me
who
was
dressed
in
a
military
uniform.
He
had
no
insignia
you
see,
but
he
had
a
benign
look
on
his
face,
and
that
lasted
about
two
seconds
and
then
it
was
gone.
So
then
I
was
falling,
so
then
the
thing
to
do
was
to
pull
your
ripcord,
so
I
pulled
my
ripcord
and
my
parachute
opened.
We
had
a
graveyard
joke
in
the
unit,
“if
you
parachute
doesn’t
open,
then
the
Army
will
issue
you
a
new
one
for
free”.
So
anyway,
it
turns
out
that
it
wasn’t
all
that
funny
a
joke.
I
had
no
idea
where
I
was
going
to
land,
and
I
landed
in
the
only
place
I
could
have
landed
safely
without
being
immediately
captured.
I
had
no
control
over
that
whatsoever,
it
just
went
down
that
way.
It
was
a
little
sandy
beach
on
the
Salween
River.
We
had
standing
technical
orders
on
survival,
and
they
stated
not
to
try
to
cross
the
Salween
River
because
you
will
likely
drown.
I
said
to
myself
“This
is
the
one
exception!”
It
was
a
sort
of
little
beach
area
that
went
into
the
River
and
I
was
able
to
get
out
of
my
harness
and
I
ran
towards
the
Salween
River.
You
see,
I
was
going
to
swim
it.
I
ditched
my
sidearm
because
the
last
thing
I
wanted
to
do
was
get
into
a
firefight
and
the
weight
would
just
drag
me
down.
I
had
my
clothes
and
my
standard
issue
personal
bible
with
me
and
I
got
into
the
river.
One
reason
why
I
was
able
to
survive
was
because
in
the
summer
of
’43,
there
was
a
drought,
and
so
all
of
those
big
rivers
ran
6‐10
feet
lower
than
normal
in
October.
Another
reason
was
that
my
plane
crashed
into
the
river
upstream,
and
completely
sank
except
for
the
oxygen
tank
which
had
shaken
loose
and
come
out
of
the
rear
of
the
fuselage.
It
came
floating
down
the
river,
and
I
grabbed
ahold
of
it
for
flotation.
I
had
gotten
in
some
white
water…rapids
and
such,
and
if
I
hadn’t
had
it
I
would
have
drowned.
So
I
made
it
to
the
shore
downstream,
but
on
the
Japanese
side
of
the
river.
I
sort
of
flopped
down
on
the
bank
and
I
shook
for
a
long
time.
INTERVIEWER:
Were
you
aware
of
the
brutal
tactics
employed
by
the
Japanese
used
when
interrogating
prisoners
of
war?
Was
that
in
any
part
of
your
consciousness
or
thinking
at
that
time?
FRANK:
Yes…definitely.
I
knew
all
about
it.
We
had
a
pilot
we
flew
with
who
had
lost
his
motor
in
his
P‐40
and
he
made
it
out
safely
and
onto
the
ground
where
he
was
captured.
What
happened
to
him…well
I
can’t
talk
about
it
now,
but
the
stories
went
around
the
squadron
for
weeks.
At
the
time
we
heard
about
it,
I
told
myself
that
was
terrible,
but
it
can’t
happen
to
me....It
didn’t
bother
me
at
all.
It
couldn’t
happen
to
me…
And….So
you
see…..It
did.
So
I
stayed
on
the
banks
of
the
river
until
I
dried
out
and
then
I
was
able
to
get
up
and
hop
into
a
drainage
ditch
of
a
rice
patty.
You
see
all
of
the
rice
was
ready
for
harvesting
and
the
farmers
had
drained
the
water.
So
I
hopped
in
there
and
stayed
in
the
rest
of
that
day.
INTERVIEWER:
You
said
before,
that
you
had
your
standard
issue
Bible
with
you?
FRANK:
I
did
have
that
with
me,
but
I
wasn’t
able
to
use
my
hands..
But
one
thing
about
it
was
I
was
in
a
valley….and
I
remembered
my
Psalms…and
I
repeated
them
to
myself…”Yea,
though
I
walk
through
the
Valley
of
the
Shadow
of
death,
I
shall
not
fear…for
thou
art
with
me”
and
that
had
an
important
part
in
my
situation.
It
gave
me
courage
and
the
strength
to
get
moving.
The
next
day
I
started
to
walk
around
the
area
looking
for
Chinese
Guerrilla’s
because
it
was
rumored
that
a
number
of
such
units
were
on
this
side
of
the
river.
I
was
on
the
Japanese
side
of
the
river
for
4
days.
I
did
not
see
any
Japanese
officers
or
soldiers
until
the
last
day.
I
had
come
across
a
ravine
that
was
too
wide
to
jump
across.
The
only
reason
I
went
up
the
one
side
was
that
a
herd
of
those
Philippine
Buffalos
were
coming
at
me
and
in
a
hostile
way
and
made
me
go
up
earlier
than
when
I
wanted
to
go.
As
I
got
to
the
crest,
I
looked
across
the
ravine
to
see
a
Japanese
officer
in
a
pointy
hat
with
a
pistol
and
a
leather
belt
and
Samurai
sword
glaring
at
me.
There
were
two
enlisted
soldiers
with
him
that
he
motioned
to
them
to
come
and
get
me.
They
started
running
down
their
side
of
the
ravine.
I
believe
what
saved
me
here
was
at
this
point
I
remembered
how
to
back‐track
from
my
beagleing
days
at
the
Radnor
Hunt.
So
I
went
back
over
my
trail
down
most
of
the
ravine
and
took
off
through
some
wheat
fields
that
were
tall
enough
to
hide
me.
I
never
saw
them
again.
I
spent
a
very
uncomfortable
night
by
the
river,
so
I
figured
it
was
time
to
get
across
the
river.
I
got
3
of
those
bamboo
poles
that
were
floating
as
flotsam
put
them
together,
tucked
them
under
my
arms
and
then
kicked
my
way
across
the
river.
I
had
to
get
across
fairly
soon
because
there
was
white
water
downstream.
After
I
got
across,
I
climbed
the
boulders
on
the
other
side
very
slowly
expecting
the
Japanese
to
appear
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
river
to
take
shots
at
me,
but
they
didn’t
do
it.
So
then
I
got
onto
this
path
that
came
down
to
the
river
and
I
walked
up
it
and
there
was
a
house
of
sticks.
I
sat
down
in
front
of
that
and
went
sound
asleep.
I
was
awakened
by
two
soldiers
wearing
the
insignia
of
the
nationalist
army
and
knew
I
was
in
Chinese
hands
at
that
point
in
time.
There
was
a
Chinese
Captain
with
them
who
could
speak
English,
so
I
talked
to
him
for
a
little
while
and
he
asked
me
if
I
could
walk…I
said
No…he
asked
me
if
I
could
ride
a
horse…I
said
No,
he
asked
me
if
I
had
to
be
carried?...I
said
yes.
And
so
they
carried
me
on
a
litter
for
3
days
until
Dr.
Todd,
a
British
Quaker
Surgeon
who
was
in
China
providing
medical
services
to
peasants
met
us
on
the
trail.
He
had
them
carry
me
back
to
the
village
he
was
staying
in
and
patched
me
up
as
best
he
could
there.
They
tried
to
get
me
to
walk
but
I
was
too
weak
to
walk
because
I
lost
an
awful
lot
of
weight
over
the
past
couple
of
days.
We
left
at
first
light
from
his
village
to
get
down
to
the
Burma
Road
to
meet
up
with
US
forces.
They
were
supposed
to
meet
us
there
at
midday,
but
when
we
got
there,
they
weren’t
there.
They
turned
up
a
little
while
later
and
we
asked
them
where
they
were.
They
asked
us
if
we
had
seen
the
zeros
that
had
just
strafed
the
area.
We
said
no,
but
as
it
turns
out,
we
had
avoided
being
seen
because
we
left
at
first
light
and
if
they
would
have
seen
us,
that
would
have
been
the
end
of
us.
Colonel
King,
an
American
Air
Force
flight
surgeon,
met
us
at
the
rendezvous
point
on
the
Burma
Road
in
a
Medical
Services
Corps
Ambulance
and
they
packed
me
up
and
got
me
back
to
Yunnan‐Yi.
They
then
got
me
on
a
DC‐2
airplane
to
Kunming.
In
Kunming,
they
had
to
operate
on
my
eye
because
of
some
damage
that
I
had
sustained
in
the
crash.
This
surgery
enabled
me
to
fly
again.
If
that
surgeon
had
not
been
there,
I
probably
would
have
lost
my
eye
and
never
been
able
to
fly
again.
After
a
couple
of
days
I
was
moved
to
Assam,
India
for
the
Christmas
of
’43.
From
there
I
was
moved
to
Calcutta
for
about
a
month
and
finally
on
to
West
Palm
Beach
Florida
for
the
remainder
of
my
convalescence
leave.”
So
in
early
1944,
Uncle
Frank
was
reunited
with
his
mother
in
Florida
while
he
was
recovering
from
the
wounds
received
during
this
incredible
ordeal.
In
1946,
His
mother
(my
Great‐Grandmother)
passed
away
from
complications
during
a
surgical
procedure.
In
her
memory
our
family
donated
another
cross
in
her
memory
with
the
following
inscription:
“To
the
Glory
of
God
and
in
Loving
Memory
of
Daisy
Coxe
Wright
Forbes…8‐19‐88
–
7‐17‐46”
If
you
are
interested
in
seeing
this
second
cross,
it’s
on
display
during
every
lower
school
chapel
service.
For
the
past
68
years,
this
cross
has
been
serving
The
Episcopal
Academy
and
its
students
by
leading
the
clergy
into
chapel
for
services.
To
bring
you
up
to
present
day…
Francis
Coxe
Forbes
lives
up
the
road
in
Paoli
and
has
been
in
the
area
ever
since
retiring
as
a
Captain
in
the
United
Stated
Army
Air
Forces.
If
you’d
like
to
meet
him,
it
would
be
my
great
pleasure,
and
honor
to
introduce
him
to
you…
He’s
lovingly
known
to
his
kids
as
Dad,
and
to
family
and
friends
he
is
know
as
Uncle
Frank…
It
is
my
honor
and
privilege
to
present
to
all
of
you
Captain
Francis
Coxe
Forbes.
…he
is
sitting
right
here
the
front
row.
[Clap]
–
Give
him
the
lillies
‐‐
To
sum
up,
my
Uncle
Frank
had
a
number
of
things
go
his
way
during
this
epic
ordeal.
My
advice
to
you
is
if
you’re
ever
asked
to
go
beagling,
(like
Uncle
Frank
asked
me
to
do
back
in
1994)
you
might
want
to
think
about
doing
it…it
just
may
save
your
life.
It’s
these
experiences
of
your
life
and
faith
that
help
you
overcome
adversity
in
ways
you’d
never
imagine.
So
you
will
all
leave
here
this
morning
and
in
the
years
ahead
at
the
end
of
your
time
at
Episcopal
to
continue
your
own
journeys
and
grow
from
experiences
yet
to
come.
During
those
journeys,
take
a
moment
to
reflect
and
you’ll
hopefully
come
to
realize
that
even
though
you
have
left
our
halls
to
pursue
your
dreams,
these
halls
never
really
leave
you.
It
never
left
Uncle
Frank…
Mrs.
Keith,
Thank
you
for
starting
me
on
this
path
of
this
research
project
which
has
led
to
this
amazing
homecoming…for
myself,
my
family,
and
The
Academy.
So….Uncle
Frank,
on
behalf
of
everyone
from
The
Episcopal
Academy,
past
and
present……
Welcome
home
“Old
Boy”….It’s
great
to
have
you
back.
Thank
you
for
your
time!