Biography Beverly A. Jackson

DINNER TIME in SAINT VOUGAY

When the jeep honked into Saint Vougay, we stopped in front of restaurant "le Clin d'Oeil" ("The Wink") where the villagers were already assembling inside at long tables set with silver and wine glasses.

Iffig explained that this restaurant normally served luncheons to the workers of Saint Vougay and is generally considered a 'working man's eatery.' It was brightly lit, and full of cheerful decorations. Its owners, Kathy and Philippe were very friendly and welcoming.

Kathy,(center) the owner, pours aperitifs to start out the dinner.

My table:
(left) Herve Bramoulle, Martine Palud, Monique Bramoulle, and the Mayor, Marie-Claire Henaff.
(right) Jean-Louis Morvan, Dede Morvan, Gisele Le Borgne, and Iffig Palud.

Second Table:
(left) Myriam Goasdoue, Alain Goasdoué, Regis Jan, Jeremy Costiou,
(right) Laure Goasdoue, Isabelle Flanet-Delpire, Andre Flanet-Delpire, Eric Pouliquen, Bernadette Abgrall.

(standing) Iffig Palud. (seated) Herve Bramoulle and Martine Palud and Dede Morvan.

Joel Henaff,, Jean-Paul Palut, Jean-Claude Abgrall, Louis Kerbrat and in foreground, Iffig Palud.

Restauranteur Phillipe discussing wine with Monique Bramoulle and the Mayor, Marie-Claire Henaff.

Bon Soir, Monsieur Iffig

Bon Soir, Monsieur Herve

BEFORE DINNER, GIFTS

I was totally unprepared for gifts, since every minute since I arrived had been a gift of celebration, good wishes, and welcome. The first gift was handed to me
on behalf of the Amicale association.

It was a beautiful metal tray and cookie tin very typical for the region, they said.

Gisele shows me the decorations of typical Bretagne figures (which I later saw again on china dishes). After I got home, I opened the cookies, which are wafer thin and are the best I've ever tasted. They have just enough salt in them to keep them from being overly sweet and I'm addicted to them! Delicious!!

My next gift was from Laure Goasdoue, the little girl who is the daughter of Alain and Myriam (Brest44)

Laure wrote a card in English (she's only 11) and drew a charming picture of her dog.

Beverly thought that this was a very, very belle gift. Tres bon!

And Laure is an adorable little girl. My favorite little girl in France!

And the gifts kept coming! They would appear from nowhere behind me!!

This gift was very, very special. I had seen repros of the pictures from a 1942 issue of Life Magazine.

An article about the B-17 bombers stationed in England with pictures of the crew of The Big Bitch, including my dad.

I shall treasure this because now I have an "original."

Thank you, Brest44.

Meanwhile, things were going on that I did not know about. Jean-Louis and Herve Simon were busy collecting autographs.

Here's a shot of Myriam Goasdoue adding her signature. I saw none of this.

The gift was presented in a plain bag, and I had no idea what it was. Lined up behind me are Brest44 members: Vincent, Alain, Myriam, Andre and Regis. Sitting: Jean-Louis, Dede, Gisele, me, Iffig.

It was a big hunk of metal with the story of my father's plane crash written on it, and signed by most of the Amicale and Brest44 members. What is it? I asked.

It is a piece of the wing of your father's plane, Gisele said. It hit me hard!!

Iffig elaborated and translated some of the writing and signatures for me, but I was not hearing. I was having an experience. The experience that I'd been looking for on this trip. It sounds too strange to discuss in a photo journal. . .

My father was somehow suddenly present. That innocuous piece of metal seemed to be the harbinger of what I was seeking. I knew now without a doubt that my father's spirit never left Saint Vougay. That's why he was not in Saint James with his bones.

I know it sounds crazy to tell you that the metal felt hot to me, and it was probably just the heat of my own excitement, but I connected with that gift in a very odd way.

I didn't really want to let it out of my sight. Someone joked that I might sleep with it that night because I couldn't seem to let it go.

A lot went through my mind at that table. More than I can possibly write here. Some important issues were resolved and a new kind of peace and resolution was found. My trip became a transforming success in a matter of seconds.

I'm sure I doubted that it would happen. I almost couldn't believe my good fortune. This gift was the best gift of all gifts. I felt like I would be taking my father back to America. Back to my home with me. How can I tell you how that feels to me?

Later when I asked Iffig whom to thank for this gift, he responded:
"This piece of wing is from...France and Brittany.
Herve Simon's father, Jean-Yves Simon (a farmer like Herve) "took" the wing in his cart a short time after the aircrash. The wing was in a neighbor's field. During the war the inhabitants used to gather all they could so as not to leave things to the Germans, and everything could be useful at the farm. It is the way this wing has been preserved." Thank you, Jean-Yves, and thank you France and Brittany!!

Vincent Seite then gave me another gift! A sheaf of papers and documentation and photos of another American man who "found" his father in ways very similar to my story.

I told Vincent I would read the file when I got home and try to get in touch with this son of a soldier. We would doubtlessly have a lot to talk about.

AND FINALLY, THE ACTUAL DINNER!!

The food was incredible. This enormous bar of h'ors d'ouevres was set up with about 20 types of salads and I assumed this was dinner! I piled up a plate and ate with abandon, only to discover that was the appetizer. HUGE plates of roasted pork and potatoes and vegetables were then served...and of course I just kept eating. It was marvelous food from Brittany and I didn't leave a morsel. AND dessert too! Some sort of exotic egg pudding (similar to a soupy custard with meringue on top). Divine.