By Steve Busalacchi
My dad served in World War II during the Battle of the Bulge. He arrived in France two weeks after D-Day, the largest amphibious invasion in history.“I never got my boots wet,” Dad told me, incredulous at the courage and determination of those who led the way. Among them was our good friend and Rotarian Tom Lucas, who died July 14, just two years shy of a century old.
As we all know, Tom was a paratrooper who dropped in to France as a teenager just days before D-Day. Miraculously, he survived wounds for which he was awarded five purple hearts.
Beyond his ability to survive the ravages of World War II combat and the Korean War, his ability to lead a successful, long life afterwards is equally amazing. I’ve always thought Tom’s way of dealing with the horrors of war was to confront them openly. Was there ever a day at Rotary when Tom did not mention something to do with his military service? Instead of bottling it all up, Tom chose another approach. He explained what it was like to anybody interested in learning. I certainly was.
Tom once brought his collection of war memorabilia and laid it all out on an open table. It was fitting enough for a Smithsonian exhibit. All kinds of stuff, including Nazi emblems, belt buckles and a black dagger. After the meeting, he told me about the knife.
“I always had that fastened to my ankle,” he explained, as he pulled up his pant leg. Then he hugged me from behind and proceeded to show me how he used it to survive hand-to-hand combat! That was Tom. No need to sugar coat it.
On the lighter side, who can forget the laughs and groans Tom would elicit when he began a happy dollar comment with, “I was in my basement and found…” There were the gold coins, the fishing rods, the newspapers, the this and the that. All were part of the fabric of a very long and successful life.
Ted and Jacci See, and I am sure other caring Madison South Rotarians, went out of their way to make sure Tom didn’t celebrate a birthday alone. They also provided the most beautiful cakes to mark the occasion. This was yet another form of service before self to help honor a Rotarian who could hardly have given more in service to his country.
Tom, your fellow Rotarians salute you, not just for your outstanding service, but for your friendship and service to the community over so many years.
My dad lived 88 years, a full decade less than Tom. But like Tom, Dad returned from the war and had an incredibly successful and happy life. I can’t help but think Tom Lucas and his courageous buddies who went in first, were the reason my dad and all those who followed, had a chance of surviving at all.
