Submitted by Rebekah Sheats
“I mailed a letter to coach today.” So ended the day’s journal entry of a sixteen-year-old boy in April of 1941. As young Jim Sledge laid aside his pen and closed his journal, his eyes caught a final glimpse of the setting sun as it slipped behind the horizon to the west. Outside, the palm fronds rustled quietly in the evening breeze, and the sounds of the tropical night descended upon the little house in the Philippines where the boy sat lost in thought. Twelve months ago, he’d left his home in Monticello to spend two years with his uncle at Fort McKinley on the Philippine Islands. But now everything had changed.
It was Saturday night, and it had been a busy week. Word had been received that relations between Japan and the United States were deteriorating quickly. For the past several months Jim’s uncle Teddy Sledge had been busy examining fortifications and strengthening defensive works along the many islands that made up the Philippines. To those in the know, it was clear that war was in the offing. It was therefore no surprise to young Jim when orders were received that all American women and children were ordered to return home to the States.
Jim had spent the week packing. “More packing,” his journal entry of April 11 had noted. “After lunch packed more books and things,” it went on. Even now his room was filled with the boxes and crates into which he had packed his belongings. Each was carefully labeled for the long journey home. The rest of the house looked the same, with packing crates and boxes of all sizes sitting in stacks along the walls. Jim’s eighty-two-year-old grandmother and his Aunt Jerry had helped with the mammoth task of dismantling the home where they had spent the past twelve months of their lives. With their crates and boxes, the two women and Jim would return to the States on the next ship. Uncle Teddy would remain behind.
As a lieutenant colonel in the United States Army, Teddy Sledge had an important role to play in the cloudy future of the Philippine Islands. Working alongside such illustrious men as Generals MacArthur and Wainwright, Teddy’s workload had increased exponentially as the islands prepared for anticipated hostilities with Japan. Yet the man knew his time with his family was limited, and he occasionally snatched a few moments whenever he could during those days of April 1941. Two days ago he had managed to break free from work long enough to take his nephew Jim out for a chocolate malt. Jim relished the few quiet moments with his uncle. It was almost enough to convince him that the rest of life was no more than a bad dream. But no—the packing was still awaiting him at the house. The boy’s departure on the USS Washington loomed ever nearer, and with it came the unspoken question Jim longed to ask his uncle but knew he couldn’t answer: “Will we ever see each other again?”
But Jim had always been an optimistic boy. Things would turn out all right in the end, he was sure. And in the meantime, he’d go home to Monticello for the summer before beginning school again in the fall. His best friend Boots Thomas would be home for the summer as well. What fun the boys would have before the coming of the fall semester of 1941!
The summer at home would provide Jim the chance to catch up with all his old friends, including his beloved coach, whose letter was now on its way to distant Monticello.
Affectionately known as “the Swede,” Herbert Phillips was the well-known football coach of the Monticello Tigers. A likeable man, he got on well with all his players, but he had taken a special interest in young Jim when the boy joined the team in 1938.
Indeed, it was difficult not to notice Jim on the Monticello football field. A full seven inches shorter than the next shortest member of the team, Jim weighed in at 106 pounds, at least fifteen pounds lighter than any other teammate. But what the boy lacked in weight and height he made up in enthusiasm. Coach Phillips took to the boy immediately and assigned Jim the role of holding the football for the kicker during the 1938 season. Though a freshman, Jim was assured field time due to his crucial role. In the Monticello News writeups of the games, his name appeared alongside the illustrious names of Tiger seniors Olin Cooksey, Jack Brinson, Folsom Maxwell, Franklin Floyd and others. An article describing the first game of the 1938 season enthusiastically noted, “Folsom Maxwell starred on defense, making some of the best tackles of the game. Olin Cooksey, who was the acting captain of the Tigers, was outstanding for his running and kicking.” The article went on to note: “Fans were glad to see little Jim Sledge under fire for the first time. Jim did well and will probably get the call at quarterback position next year.”
Jim did get the quarterback position next year. Under the masterful coaching of Herbert Phillips, the Tigers enjoyed an exceptional season. The local newspaper called 1939 “one of the most successful football seasons in many years” and praised Phillips for his role in pushing the boys to their greatest potential. Phillips was no stranger to football. He had authored a book on the sport, and his articles on football had appeared in two national magazines. Jefferson County was honored that “the Swede” called Monticello home. The schoolboys were no less honored to have the man as their coach, their confidante, and their friend. Phillips made such an impact on those young lives that some of the boys would keep in touch with their coach for decades to come.
It was quite dark now, and the humid air of the tropical night had enveloped the house in its gentle embrace. Jim turned out the light and crawled into bed, exhausted from the day’s packing. Tomorrow was Easter Sunday. For a moment Jim let his mind wander far from the Philippines back to dear Monticello, where he knew the inhabitants would be preparing for the joyous celebration of Christ’s resurrection. Soon he would be joining them for a happy, carefree summer. He’d meet with all his old friends. He’d spend time with Coach again. And he’d try to forget about the worries of war.
What would the morrow hold? Could Jim have caught a glimpse of the cataclysmic change about to descend upon his world, he would scarcely have believed it.
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