For Portsmouth family, military service is in their blood

PORTSMOUTH

The boatswain’s mate’s pipe sounded at 5:23 p.m., signaling the start of Joseph King’s retirement ceremony from the Navy.

Ballroom doors at the Renaissance Portsmouth Hotel swung open on this Saturday night to allow guests in sequins and Navy finery to find their seats, but the ceremony could not begin.

The man of the hour, Joseph King, was there, but the most important guests – mom and dad – were not.

King had planned this evening to be more than a final salute to his 29-year-six-month-and-five-day service to the Navy. It was a celebration of honor, sacrifice and family. Especially family.

Of his parents’ 12 children, all eight boys served in the military. Joseph, 47, was the last and the only one to leave with any fanfare.

“Retirement ceremonies are optional,” Joseph said. “But it’s not for you. It’s for your family, and it’s for your sailors.”

He wanted his to be more than a standard goodbye.

Twenty minutes later, the ballroom doors reopened, and in came his father, Ralph, and mother, Gloria, smiling from her wheelchair. Within minutes someone called: “Color guard, parade the colors!”

Military service has been as natural as breathing and praying to the King family.

Gloria’s grandfather served during the Spanish-American War and her father was in World War I.

It was almost fitting that, in the summer of 1942, Gloria, on one of the rare nights her mom would let her go out, ventured with friends to the USO in downtown Portsmouth.

That’s where she met Ralph, a newly minted Navy man from Alabama who was as soft-spoken as she. They married on Nov. 15 of that year.

He was a steward, one of the few positions at the time for blacks in the Navy, but he would see his share of action. The ships he served on participated in battles of the Pacific and he later served in Korea.

Gloria stayed home and raised the children. They had their first, Irmina, in 1943; their last, Brenda, arrived in 1970.

Ralph retired from the service in 1962 but passed the military mantle onto the boys: the eldest, Ralph, joined the Army in 1966, Carl in 1968, Donald and Phillip in 1972 and William in 1974. Christopher and Steven enlisted in 1981, though Steven went into the Air Force. Then Joseph followed his dad into the Navy in 1982.

The boys served in Vietnam, the first Gulf War, Iraq and Afghanistan.

Mom wrote them all as they spread around the world and still keeps their letters in her Portsmouth home.

Some of her worst days, she said, were when she had to send her boys off to war. Or the time she helped Carl, who so wanted to be in the service that he’d sneak his dad’s uniform out of the house and march in it down the street. He was dying to join when he was 17, too young to do so on his own, so mom signed for him.

She’s seen history change through her family, from when men could serve only in the shadows to now when they serve as leaders.

“They were all satisfied with the service, they all traveled and their children got a good education with the travel,” Gloria said.

“I’m proud of them all.”

Joshua King walked to the podium midway during the retirement ceremony. His father, Joseph, sat behind him, a smile on his face. He did not know what his 24-year-old, a known jokester, would say.

Joshua, who is also in the Navy, greeted his grandparents and guests. Then he glanced at his father.

“I’m glad I have this chance today to tell you just how much you mean to me,” he said. “How much I admire you, and how grateful we all are to you for being the colleague, the friend, the mentor and the special part of the family you have been to everyone here today.”

Joseph looked like he was trying not to cry.

“Building a family is the hardest job you can do, but it’s also the most important, and I want to thank you for all you have done for us. ... Thank you and God bless you.”

His father rose and hugged his son.

Later, after commendations and gifts were handed out, the emcee announced, “Here comes the tears,” and Joseph walked toward the microphone. The crowd rose in an ovation.

“First of all, I can’t start anything without thanking God,” he said, and his mom smiled.

“I also wanted to do this to honor my parents,” he said, his voice choking. “They’re awesome.” Then he paused. “I got something for my mother.”

He continued: “I’m the last of the eight boys who enlisted and served in the United States military. Out of these eight, we all served honorably. We all left the military with someone saying, ‘We’d be glad to take you back.’ ”

He called the names of his brothers and each one stood except William, who’s in Alaska now after finishing a tour in Afghanistan.

“These are my brothers. That’s what I followed. That’s what got me to get up in the morning and go to work. I could not fail. I’d get up every day. I love my job, I love my country, but most of all, I love my family.

“But there was one woman at the helm,” he said, looking at his mom. “You’ve never worn a uniform. They wouldn’t call you a veteran, but why not?

“She raised more than 200 years of military service,” he said. “I include my father because she raised him, too.”

The audience laughed.

“My mother is a veteran, though she’ll never have a flag flown for her, or a 21-gun salute, or a parade for her.”

Joseph walked to the table that held his honors and picked up a red, white and blue bundle, folded neatly. He cradled it.

“This flag represents all the sons you did not bury,’ he said, walking to his mom. Sniffles started around the room.

“This is a living flag,” he said. “This means all of your sons came home.”

The crowd stood and people openly cried, and mom waved to the applause. Then her youngest son gave her the tenderest salute of all:

He leaned in close, placed the flag in her arms and kissed her.

Denise Watson Batts, (757) 446-2504 denise.batts@pilotonline.com