Commentary The father he did not have to be...

Gene Garton was born in Toledo, Oregon in 1946, the middle son of a school teacher and fireman. Growing up in a small coastal town, while having its many rewards, also had its many drawbacks. Being a local football hero in high school, he was always in the center of the action in town, but longed for something more in life.

The world was a different place in 1963 when he graduated from high school. A little known sliver of land in a far off place called Vietnam was in the early stages of a horrific war which would end the lives of tens of thousands of America's youth. With the draft in full swing, Gene took a job at the local wood mill shoveling sawdust into waiting rail cars. After a year of working in the mill and still knowing he wanted more in life, Gene enrolled in the Reserve Officer Training Corps and attended Oregon State University in Corvallis.

After graduating in 1968 with a history degree, he departed the Pacific Northwest for the Wild Blue Yonder at Williams Air Force Base, Arizona, where he completed two years of Air Force Undergraduate Pilot Training. Second Lieutenant Garton found service life exciting and continued his training at England AFB, Louisiana where he learned to fly the RC-47 reconnaissance aircraft, which was used to monitor enemy radio transmissions.

Gene, like most young officers, married early in his career and was blessed with the birth of his son Troy in 1971. Seven months later, he received orders to report to Vietnam where he spent the next year flying top-secret combat missions deep behind enemy lines. On one particular mission, Gene was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for completing a foul- weather mission many others had refused to complete.

Returning home a war hero to an ungrateful country, Gene received orders to report to Minot AFB in North Dakota to fly the venerable B-52 Bomber. Gene began training on the aircraft but soon found his world falling apart around him after his new bride asked him for a divorce. It seemed the distance and time away had taken their toll on another military family.

Heartbroken, Gene left active duty in 1974 and joined the 304th Rescue Squadron based in Portland. He flew the UH-1 Huey helicopter, logging over 3,800 flight hours and flying hundreds of those hours on life-saving search and rescue missions atop local mountain peaks. On May 18, 1980, Captain Garton found himself the aircraft commander of a two-day mission, saving the lives of over 50 campers and residents who had ignored the warnings of Mt. St. Helens' impending eruption.

Gene also found civilian employment with the Portland Police Bureau in 1974.

Leading a double life as a rescue helicopter pilot and police officer left him little time to dedicate himself fully to one.

He chose flying and elected not to test for promotions within the police bureau.

Still, many of those police officers who knew him affectionately referred to him as "Colonel" when they talked to him.

Three days after retiring from the police bureau in 1999, Colonel Garton was called to active duty to lead an entire air group to fly combat missions in support of a war in a little known country called Kosovo.

Again, he returned home a hero, but this time to a grateful country.

Gene retired from the Air Force Reserves in 2001.

I met Gene Garton in 1985. Coming from a broken home, and unlike my older brother and younger sister, I was actually happy to hear that my mother Sharon was dating again. Working one day as a hospital emergency room admitting clerk, she had met Gene while he was escorting a prisoner to the hospital. Gene immediately courted the ex-teenaged beauty queen from Reedsport and they both fell in love. Over the next few years, Gene went out of his way to include my siblings and me in his outdoor adventures. He always taught us all a love and respect for life and nature in everything we did together. Something the dark days of divorce had hidden from us during our impressionable years.

In 1989, he married my mother.

Apparently, she was worth the three extra teenagers she brought to the marriage with her.

But time and time again, Gene continually proved we were also the ones who were worth it to him.

My younger sister had what I called "A problem with life" during her teen years.

Acting the consummate rebel role, she decided to run away from home on several occasions.

Gene spent the next few years searching for her on the streets of Portland or tracking down the last home she had lived in.

Both my brothers had problems with the law and Gene was there with a firm but loving hand to help them through it.

Whether it was fatherly advice, financial aid, or family crisis management, he was always there for us, unconditionally.

In this narcissistic age of unconcerned and unforgiving parents, he continues to stand alone, as a step-father. I'm sure none of us will know exactly how much he sacrificed to show us his love and compassion. Many times the people we meet in this world affect us deeply by their words. It is not very often we are deeply affected by their actions. My step-father is truly a man of actions.

Today, Gene Garton lives a much simpler life as a permanent fixture of Camp Sherman. If you happen by this tiny hideaway, you may very well find him down by the waters of the Metolius River, casting his fly rod. His challenges now are not as intense as flying combat missions deep in enemy territory, or apprehending the most dangerous criminals of society. Grandchildren seem to be somewhat of a new "Low-Intensity Conflict" for him now, but one he is winning. "Enemy combatants and felons were always predictable," he says "But grandchildren. That is a whole other battle."

Grandpa Gene Garton, always our hero.

Integrity, compassion, and selflessness. My step-father, Gene Garton, has defined his entire life by these virtues. Now I find myself, a middle child and step-father of two boys, continually searching for ways of being half the father he did not have to be.

Happy Father's Day.

Garrett Chew is a Helicopter Aerial Gunner Instructor with the 304th Rescue Squadron and lives with his family in Vancouver, Washington.