By Jacob Dickman
NKyTribune intern
For many people today, World War II is just a conflict between several countries during the 1940’s. But for Mary Lou Bosch and Linda Niewahner, it means so much more. To these two women, World War II stands as the reason they never got to know their father, Harry Vaal, while they were growing up in Northern Kentucky.
Born on July 8th, 1944, twins Mary Lou and Linda were welcomed into the world by their mother, Vivian Vaal. Their father, Harry, was in England serving as a bombardier on a B-17. As news of their birth reached Harry, so too did a short leave of absence for him to welcome his twin daughters into the world.
Harry would return to Newport when the girls were eight weeks old, and this would be the only time Harry would get to meet his daughters.
Vaal had already reached his mandatory 25 missions but decided to enlist for a few more. On April 5th, 1945, Harry Vaal’s plane would crash into a field shortly after takeoff. Mary Lou and Linda were only nine months old at the time.
After three years, Mary Lou and Linda’s mother would remarry, and the sisters would eventually take their stepfather’s last name when moving schools in the fourth grade. Once their mother remarried, the girls would not know much about their father until later in their life. Linda said, “most of everything that we saw later was upstairs in the closet, put away.”
Now, nearly 80 years later, Mary Lou and Linda have created lives of their own as both their mother and stepfather have passed. Each now have a family of their own including children and grandchildren. This past Christmas, Linda’s daughter Beth Hodge decided to give her mother and aunt a gift that they would never forget.
One morning, while browsing Facebook, Beth came across a post from a man in England named Jeremy Wright. In the post, Wright describes the plane Miss Ida, which is the same plane on which Harry Vaal was killed. Beth quickly reached out to Wright over Facebook, and to her surprise, Wright called her that same day with information.
As it turns out, Wright lives near the field where Harry Vaal’s plane crashed. Wright goes out and digs up pieces of the crash. After talking more over the phone, Beth decided that she was going to ask him if she could get some pieces for her mother and aunt. “I’d love to put something together,” said Beth, recalling her thoughts at the time.
Her hopes were not high, and she expected that Wright might not be willing to part with the pieces. However, Wright responded with a definite yes, and claimed that he had been waiting for someone to ask for the pieces. Wright was just happy to have pieces of Miss Ida return home. He provided them for her at no cost. He gives the pieces away.
So, with the pieces in hand, Beth set about creating two shadow boxes, one for her mother and the other for her aunt.
Of course, Linda and Mary Lou were overwhelmed by emotions when receiving the gifts during the Christmas season. But even today, almost eight months after opening their boxes, the twins still value this gift more than anything else.
“It means a lot,” said Linda, while fighting through tears of both joy and remembrance. “We have a lot of his artifacts from the war,” added Mary Lou, “but this was the last part of him.”
The two sisters as well as Beth voiced their thanks for Wright’s unending support of keeping their father’s memory alive.
“I’m glad that there’s people even outside of our country who still memorialize those men and what happened,” said Beth.
As far as unforgettable gifts go, this is certainly one that Mary Lou Bosch and Linda Niewahner will never forget.
Jacob Dickman is a recent graduate of Covington Catholic High School and is a new freshman at Ball State University, studying journalism.