Some days are truly a blessing at the shop. For anyone that knows me, you know what a HUGE World War 2 history buff I am. So anytime I get in items from that era , I jump on it as quickly as possible.  
My FAVORITE WW2 “relics” are those that walk in the door. I’ve got one such customer, who has been visiting with us for quite awhile. He’s probably the toughest negotiator I’ve ever come across, and is about as deaf as a person can be. He NEVER lets me get the better of him in any negotiation, either. I respect that a lot in a man.  
He is a local man, named Dillard Kelley. And in recent weeks, he’s been telling us more stories of his time in WW2 (he’s finally opening up to us after doing business with us for awhile). I consider his stories a treasure to be a part of, just as if I were given a gift. Pictured here is Mr. Kelley with me today, after we had a particularly touching exchange.
A few weeks ago, he had a garage sale out at his house. A local businessman (with the name of his business on the outside of his truck) came to that garage sale, and promised to pay him for 35 polo shirts that he then put in that truck and took off with (and has not returned with them, nor paid for them). He came to talk to us because he felt that we could help him track this guy down. And help him we did (although he has not received his money yet). That seemed to create a bond with us,and seems to be why he’s been more telling of his stories.
He shows scars on his arms from things that happened to him overseas. He also, with tears in his eyes, tells how his entire division was nearly killed in combat. About how he spent the night exposed in a hill, badly wounded, thinking he would die there amongst his comrades. A black soldier found him, and dragged his body back to safety after being out there a full day. He states with pride that even though people thought badly of black people back home, from the day he was saved by one, he gave them the utmost respect and has to this day.  
I had two treats in the shop to show him–one is a BEAUTIFUL replica of an M-1 Garande, complete with magazines and rounds. There are some that have ballistic tips, and his eyes widened and said, “How did you get tracer rounds,” not recognizing that they were just ballistic tips (but looked like the old tracer rounds.  
And I’ll be doggoned if this 93 year old, small in stature man didn’t hoist up that Garande like it was a toy gun in his hand, and swung it around in a fighting stance with it. I showed him the bayonet, which he marvelled at, and said, with a grim face, “If you had to put one of these things on, it meant very bad things. Sometimes for you, sometimes for someone else. I never liked them, it was too brutal.”  
He dropped the rifle into a an “attention” stance, at his side, and stood very erect. I think that for a second there, he went back 70+ years in time. Resolutely, he handled the rifle back to me, shaking my hand profusely many times. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so undeserving of a handshake before.  
Before he left, I had one more treat to show him. it’s something I’ve had for awhile, a Nazi officer’s medical bag that clipped onto the belt. It was supposedly used by an officer in the Hitler Youth (from one source) and immediately after I showed Mr. Kelley, he recognized. He gripped it fairly tightly in his hand. He said, “I have seen these, laying in the field or on dead soldiers. Some other guys would pick them up as souvenirs. I was more worried about picking up food and bullets.” I was never quite sure what to do with this item, but as I stood there with him, I knew immediately where its home needed to be–I put my hand on his, leaned as close to his ear as I could and spoke up, saying, “Thank you for your service. This is a gift to you.”  
He looked at me funny and said, “I can keep it?” To which I assured him that yes, he absolutely could. Again teary-eyed (at this point, so was I), he told me “I will keep this as long as I live, thank you very much.” Shaking hands again, both of us a little blubbery at this point, I assured him that no, I was the one who should be thanking him.  
I don’t know how long “as long as he lives” will be, but I feel blessed beyond measure that I had the chance to take a trip in a time machine with someone that is a living history lesson of a time when our nation stood up and answered a call to do something that was right, and in doing so, changed the world forever.  
I too, am taking something away from this as long as I live.  
He got a kick out of me wanting to take his picture!
I wrote this three years ago. Some updates to this story…That local business owner who stole from him not only paid him back (with some encouragement from a few people), but is no longer open. Good people need to stand up for others when they get a chance. 
Sadly, Mr Kelley passed away late last year. His son-in-law and daughter came to see me and tell me. It happened suddenly, after having an accident on a Friday, and passed away at the hospital the following Monday. 
I’m privileged to have called him a friend.