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The motto on my "Bio" page reads: "In life as in comedy, timing is everything" ... never was that more true than it was in the meeting, courtship, and marriage of my parents. Another well-worn adage (especially popular in the military) is "Never volunteer". Had my father not been blessed with an incredible sense of timing, or had heeded the advice of the latter adage, the picture at the left would never have been taken, and I would not be here to write about it.
My father, Jack Godwin-Austen, was born and raised in the small farming community of Powell, Wyoming. After High School, and a couple of summers of working as a member of the Civilian Conservation Corps during the Great Depression, he joined the Navy "to see the world". After several years in the Navy, and before the USA had entered World War II, he had an itch to see more of the world and, violating the "don't volunteer" dictum, volunteered for overseas duty.
While he was in Washington, D.C. being processed for his new assignment, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, spurring our entry into the war, and sinking the ship he had been stationed on: the U.S.S. Utah. (Good timing, Dad!)
Stationed in Londonderry, Ireland, he got to experience another corner of the world he sought to see. One night, some of his buddies invited him to join them at a dance in town. At the dance, one of his shipmates who had been dating one of the local girls introduced him to her sister. That Irish lass turned out to be my mother, Caroline. It was not love at first sight. The demure Caroline was appalled at the unsophisticated big country boy he still was.
But somehow, slowly, his easy-going ways began to grow on her, and a wartime romance began. Eventually he proposed marriage, and just as they were planning for the big event, his ship was sent on an unexpected mission supporting the post D-day beachheads in France. When finally on his way back to Ireland, he radioed ahead with a message that he was on his way, and the wedding plans were reactivated. The church was reserved, a wedding cake made, and nearly all was ready for the big moment.
Only one thing was missing... witnesses. My mother's friends and family, of course, would be there, but there would be nobody representing my father's "side of the family". The local Red Cross was contacted, and two Navy men volunteered to "stand up" for one of their own. As it turned out, they were fellow Chiefs, who my father knew. After the war, my father's ship returned home, and my mother followed shortly thereafter. He was stationed in San Diego, where they remained after leaving the Navy.
My sister, brother, and myself were born in San Diego. My father died in 1974, my brother now lives near Los Angeles, the rest of us still live in San Diego.
Last Revised December 18, 1995
Visitors have met my parents since December 18, 1997.