Looking for just one name, Korean War vet joins two dozen Alaskans making ‘Honor Flight’ to DC

PALMER — Jim Clark doesn't like to talk about the combat he saw during the Korean War.

The U.S. Navy veteran, who lives at the Alaska Veterans and Pioneers Home in Palmer, will only say he's alive because another man gave his life.

Clark plans to search for that man's name on a visit this week to the Korean War Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.

He is one of two dozen veterans making the all-expenses-paid trip thanks to the Alaska chapter of Honor Flight, an Ohio-based nonprofit that flies veterans to the nation's capital to visit with each other and tour the war memorials on the National Mall.

"It doesn't cost the veterans a dime," said Ron Travis, president and co-founder of the The Last Frontier Honor Flight, the nonprofit's Alaska hub. "We don't even let 'em buy coffee."

This week's flight marks the ninth since Travis began coordinating two trips a year in 2013. Nationally, the nonprofit flew more than 20,500 veterans and 18,200 guardians last year.

[Photos: Last Frontier Honor Flight of Alaska veterans departs for D.C.]

Clark joined the U.S. Navy in 1950, just a few months after the war began. He got out in 1954, a year after it ended.

He asked not to discuss how a seaman who did maintenance and repair on optical equipment like periscopes and binoculars ended up on the front lines — or what happened there.

"It took me 40 years to get over that," he said Friday, sitting in a chair by a window in his tidy room decorated with photos.

Clark will talk a visitor's ear off about almost anything else: the ships he served on, his multiple professions ranging from home builder to courtesy van driver, his six children and nearly 40 grandchildren.

Clark made 18 trips on the Alaska Highway in the motor home he called home for five years, since the death of his wife, Ginny, until last year.

The couple moved to Alaska after living in Tacoma, Washington, where Clark graduated high school. He grew up on a Wyoming ranch, herding cattle with a gun in his hand at the age of 12.

He hunted and fished in Alaska. A glistening black bear pelt hangs on the wall of his room: a small blackie that charged Clark on the Kenai Peninsula 50 years ago.

Clark came out of combat and turned to alcohol, but quit drinking about 40 years ago.

He says he's classified as 70 percent disabled. He still bears the charisma, full head of hair and good looks of the young Navy man he once was, with a devilish grin and all the world still ahead.

"I got a sense of humor, man," he said Friday, chuckling at a joke he just told. "I never know what the hell I'm gonna say."

Clark's group of veterans and their guardians leave Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport Tuesday. They return Saturday to fanfare — the governor, bagpipes, a color guard — as they're welcomed home.

There will be seven World War II veterans, 14 Korean War vets and two from the Vietnam War.

The veterans will sit together on an Alaska Airlines jet. At first, if past flights are any indication, things will be pretty quiet as the strangers get acquainted.

"Usually by the time we get to D.C., they're getting pretty chatty — they're starting to banter with each other. The Marines are giving the Army hell," said Travis, laughing. "It's just a good time, a good feeling."

On the flight back comes mail call: letters written beforehand by family members are handed out to veterans as their names are read aloud over the plane's intercom.

The gesture recalls earlier days of cherished but scarce letters from home during wartime.

"We start calling out names and handing out mail," Travis said. "There's not a dry eye on the airplane. It's very emotional."

He credited the generosity of sponsors and donations for making the missions possible. The airfare and flight food costs alone, donated by Alaska Airlines, amount to about $65,000. Other sponsors include Geneva Woods — which donates wheelchairs — numerous veterans' organizations and motorcycle clubs.

Travis, a Vietnam veteran and retired state probation and parole officer who lives in Big Lake, said all the work he puts into coordinating and overseeing the trips is worth it with one gesture.

His father, a World War II veteran, died before the Alaska flights started.

"Any time one of these guys looks you in the eyes and he's got tears running down and he thanks you, all the bills are paid," Travis said.

Asked what he's expecting from the trip, Clark paused for just a beat before answering.

"Satisfaction, for one thing. I hope I can put some ghosts to sleep," he said. "Gratitude."