Joe Watson, in Europe, during World War II. His 103rd birthday is Tuesday. Credit: Family image

Joe Watson, a profoundly humble guy, would say this is too much — even if it is absolutely true:

In Central New York, he is a living symbol of what we are called upon to remember on Veterans Day.

In that spirit, Joe and his family have a message for all of you, as readers.

“He was teary-eyed,” said his daughter, Debra Prusinowski. “He was overwhelmed with happiness.”

A few months ago, Joe turned 103 years old. His mind remains electrically sharp, though his body — his eyesight, his hearing, his mobility — have all been affected by the physical realities of his age. He jokes that the one responsible is really his mom, who also lived to be well past 100, but the truth is that every day, for Joe, somehow involves tiring physical struggle.

At the time, with the blessing of Joe’s grown children, I wrote a piece explaining our long friendship, and I made a little request. I noted how Joe was born in Brooklyn, how his dad died as a young man and how a Great Depression childhood was a never-easy-matter of day-to-day work and survival for Joe and his brother.

I recalled how Joe went on to serve in World War II, how he was sent into Europe as part of the Allied invasion — and how he made it home, though five of his closest childhood and high school friends did not. I explained how he met his wife-to-be, Lynne, at a church dance, and how Joe worked his way up from a job as a messenger at a Brooklyn bank to retiring as a vice-president from the Syracuse Savings Bank, the work that brought the Watsons here.

And I noted how Joe — never forgetting the friends he lost — always kept faith with his fellow veterans. For years, he organized an annual Veterans Day gathering at the Fairmount Community Church. He also led an effort to remind Central New York families that if your parents or grandparents served in World War II, you can honor them by adding their names to a digital memorial registry, tied to the World War II monument in Washington D.C.

Joe Watson with his late wife Marilyn – he called her ‘Lynne’ – at their 65th wedding anniversary celebration. Credit: Family image

Lynne — missed desperately by Joe — died years ago. I wrote about the intensity and loyalty of their long romance, about the triumphs and searing tragedies endured by their family, and I made a simple “ask” of you, as readers:

I asked you, if you had a moment, to send Joe cards or notes for his 103rd birthday, last August.

The response — a mountain of it — is now piled in a box in Joe’s room at Brookdale Summerfield, an assisted living facility in Onondaga. Debra said he’s received cards from as far away as California, Texas and North Dakota.

If you’d like to add to that correspondence, the address is:

Joe Watson, c/o Brookdale Summerfield

Apartment 229, 100 Summerfield Village Lane

Syracuse, 13215

Anyway, getting back to the point: This autumn, I received a note from Joe’s son David, which I’ll include in its entirety at the end of this post. Joe wrote of his father’s “kindness, humility, understanding, loyalty, ethical, appreciation, thankfulness and quiet strength,” and he passed on this thought for every one of you who wrote to Joe:

“To you Sean and your wonderful readers, thank you … at last count, Dad has received 104 cards. Your kind words and thoughts have been very impactful to not only our Dad but also to the whole Watson Family. And as Dad has said to a couple of us, ‘I guess I did something right.'”

Those last six words, in their simplicity, capture Joe’s life. Completely.

Debra said she and David read every one of those notes to their dad. Some were from old friends. Many were from people they had never met, often nearing or just past retirement age — women and men who saw reflections of their own World War II-era parents, in Joe.

I contemplate all of that, and I reflect on how easy it is to drive past the nursing homes and hospitals and quiet neighborhoods of our Central New York community without thinking of just how many white-haired men and women inside those rooms and buildings gave up some of the core years of their youth to military service…

And how so many suffered terrible losses — physical and emotional — they often bear, now more than ever, in solitude.

This day was set outside to honor and acknowledge that kind of sacrifice, and to hope that for the children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren of those veterans, all that love and grace and courage and pain will someday and somehow lead to a real peace.

I saw Joe not long ago, and his thought for all of you was this — offered in that same beautifully unassuming fashion that is a hallmark of the guy:

Thanks.

Joe, my friend, on Veterans Day — and I think I safely speak for all of us…

We appreciate it, but in a big way: That’s for you.

Joe Watson, about to tun 103, in a recent photo. Credit: Family photo

The full note that David Watson and his siblings – Debra, Janet and James – asked for us to publish in The Central Current:

On behalf of Joe Watson, the Watson Family wants to thank you for your tremendous birthday gift to our Dad. What you wrote truly captures the essence of Joe Watson; kindness, humility, understanding, loyalty, ethical, appreciation, thankfulness and quiet strength. Dad is honored with your friendship.

To you Sean and your wonderful readers, thank you for cards, at last count Dad has received 104 cards. Your kind words and thoughts has been very impactful to not only our Dad but also to the whole Watson Family. And as Dad has said to a couple of us, “I guess I did something right.”

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Sean Kirst is a columnist with The Central Current. He has been an Upstate journalist for more than 50 years. He held his first reporting job as a teenager and worked for newspapers in Dunkirk, Niagara...