Edward B. Koch Sr.
Monday, Nov. 11, 2019 | 5 p.m.
Editor's note: Former longtime Las Vegas Sun reporter and obituary writer Ed Koch today offers what he calls the most difficult obit he has ever written — that of his father. It is a tribute to a man who was an accomplished sailor, a venerable businessman and a lifelong source of inspiration.
Edward B. Koch Sr. was a Korean War hero, but I learned early on in life never to call him that to his face. He once sharply responded, "I'm no hero — those who lost their lives in battle are the heroes. I was just a shipmate who did his job."
But make no mistake about it — if it weren't for men like my father and his shipmates aboard the USS Diachenko and other vessels on one late autumn afternoon in 1950 at Wonsan Harbor in North Korea, there would have been a lot more dead Americans, or as my father would put it, a lot more heroes.
My father died on Veterans Day Monday. He was 90. The cause was multiple organ failure, complicated by a long battle with cardio-obstructive pulmonary disease, more commonly called COPD.
Services for the Southern Nevada resident of 41 years are pending. Interment will be at the Southern Nevada Veterans Memorial Cemetery in Boulder City, his town of residence for the past three years after moving from the east Las Vegas home that he had purchased in 1978.
As I sat down to write Dad's obituary, I felt that the rescue at Wonsan Harbor was a linchpin of his life, but certainly not the only reason I admired him. He was the quintessential family man, had a dedicated work ethic and was a gregarious soul who could captivate a roomful of people.
As a 21-year-old seaman, Dad was assigned to a large rescue team that saved from a watery grave crewmen from two American minesweepers, the USS Pledge and USS Pirate. The ships sank from heavy enemy gunfire while clearing mines for the planned massive extraction of U.S. troops returning from the Battle of Chosin Reservoir.
North Korean Army batteries on nearby Kei-To and Soku-Semu islands fired shells on the survivors who were floating on the frigid water's surface — many of them wounded — and, later, on my father and the other rescuers. For his efforts, my pop was awarded the Bronze Star with a V insignia for valor. His citation pretty much sums up what he and his shipmates did that day:
"Koch fearlessly risked his life to assist in evacuating the wounded, despite the danger from enemy mines and continued fire from hostile batteries on shore." The U.S. Navy praised Dad for his "efficiency, cool courage and zealous devotion to duty throughout."
Miraculously, just 12 sailors from the Pledge and Pirate were killed that fateful day. The death count realistically could have been 100 or more if my father and the others did not do their job.
Dad applied the positive attributes noted in his Bronze Star citation to every job he had after retiring from the Navy following 20 years of service — first as a freight supervisor for Emery Air Freight in Boston, then as the owner of Captain Ed's Subs sandwich shop in Derry, N.H., and lastly as the owner of Evergreen Lawn Care and Carefree Lawn Care in Las Vegas in the 1980s.
Dad paid the closest attention to details whether he was expediting an important package, making a cheesesteak and mushroom sandwich for a hungry lunch patron or meticulously manicuring the lawns of Las Vegas homeowners, some of them celebrities, including late Caesars Palace house magician Jimmy Grippo and sports handicapper Jim Feist.
Dad retired in his late '50s and enjoyed growing vegetables in his backyard garden, traveling in his RV to top fishing spots in Nevada, Arizona and Utah and rooting for the Boston Red Sox and Chicago Cubs on TV.
Born July 13, 1929, in Summerfield, Kan., a few miles from the southeastern Nebraska border, he was the eldest of two sons of Edward Girard Koch and the former Vivian Maude Blakeway.
Grandpa was a farmer and the tiny town's barber and several-term mayor.
As a teenager, Dad got up early each morning to do chores that included feeding chickens and milking cows. After school and sports participation, he'd rush home to work the farm until dark. Dad won letters at Summerfield High School in football, basketball, track and field and baseball. At age 17, a week before graduation ceremonies, he joined the Navy, primarily to see the world.
Dad served on more than a dozen ships, including Harry Truman's presidential yacht, the USS Williamsburg, in the 1950s and the USS Canberra for service in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War. He retired as a signalman chief-E7.
Dad often offered sage advice that helped his family make difficult decisions.
I remember deciding to quit track and field my freshman year of high school because I was such a terrible shot putter. My father, genuinely concerned about my decision, asked me why I was quitting. I told him I was not good at it and "besides that, I will never be the athlete you were."
"Well, that's a real stupid reason!" Dad fired back. "If you want to quit because you don't like that sport, then do it. But don't use me as an excuse. Damn it, stop trying to be the best me you can be — you can't be me. Be the best you that you can be!"
It was the finest advice I ever got. I stuck with track and went on to letter and qualify for the state meet in the shot put my senior year. As an adult I avoided emulating others' actions, but rather concentrated on doing best the few things that I do well. Thanks Dad.
My father was a member of the Fleet Reserve Association Branch No. 90, the Retired Enlisted Association No. 84, American Legion Post 149 and Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 10047.
A longtime multi-pack-a-day cigarette smoker, my father quit cold turkey in the early 1990s. Later in life, he developed heart and lung problems related to his former habit. Near the end, Dad told me he had no real regrets in life and that he was ready to move on to the next plateau.
To that point, his favorite words of comfort and encouragement came from the Rituals Book of the Fleet Reserve Association, an organization that champions issues for retired Navy, Marines and Coast Guard personnel. The verse Dad cited reads:
"The shipmate has received his orders to serve on the staff of the Supreme Commander. (He) has sailed through life's cruise, meeting his share of calm and storms, adverse tides and favoring winds. His ship has come to its final anchorage in a harbor still unchartered by mortal men."
Even though Dad long maintained that the only heroes are those who made the ultimate sacrifice at the altar of freedom, he will always be my hero.
Shipmate Edward Koch Sr. is survived by his crew — his wife of 63 years Carmella Marie Koch; a son, Edward Koch Jr., and his wife Rita; a daughter, Susan Vess, and her husband Bob, all of Southern Nevada; two granddaughters, Nicole and her husband Ryan of Arizona and Jenny and her husband Lane of Texas; and four great-grandchildren. He was preceded in death by his younger brother, Clifton Wayne Koch.
