Legacy is a funny thing--it always comes back around and if it's a good one, hopefully more than once.
For Fort Knox, and the family of Col. John Carlson--a former U.S. Armor Center, and Fort Knox chief of staff and deputy commander--that legacy is one of community, recreation and conservation and family--things both groups revere.
Recently, Michael Carlson and his wife Susan visited Fort Knox's Camp Carlson to tour the area and, more importantly, to leave some personal belongings of his late father, for whom the camp is named.
In 1966 Carlson, who was on orders to report to Vietnam, had just passed an Army physical with flying colors when he collapsed at his desk and died of a heart attack. He was only 52 years old. He was transported to Ireland Army Community Hospital where his son Michael, now a retired Special Forces Soldier living in Georgia, said the staff tried unsuccessfully to resuscitate him.
And the legacy?
The father of five was an avid outdoorsman, believed in the strength of family and community, and made it his mission to better the area while he was here. So Carlson oversaw the development of a popular conservation and wildlife management program on Fort Knox. Today we know it as the highly regarded Department of Natural Resources.
And for that dedication and because he loved the outdoors, the former youth camp, Camp Grahampton, was renamed Camp Carlson.
Additionally, Fort Knox's integrated rapport with communities outside the post's gates is also credited to Carlson, who looked far into the future and saw a need to foster long-lasting relationships with the local population. He served as the chairman of a joint civilian - military community relations committee and expanded the Fort Knox Community Relations Program.
"Dad felt it was important to maintain quality relationships between the military and civilian environments," explained Carlson's daughter, Moira Ricklefs, who is a drug and alcohol counselor. "He was very involved and active in cooperating with the civilian neighbors to accomplish different tasks to (better) communities both in Germany (his assignment before Knox) and at Knox."
As a young man, Carlson was an avid outdoorsman living in Minnesota, played the violin and was an accountant by trade. But things changed when the U.S entered a second world war.
"When it looked like the U.S. might enter WWII, like many young men, he joined up, serving first in the Minnesota National Guard, and soon received a commission," said Carlson's youngest son. "He served (in WWII) from 1942 to 1944 and was involved in the both African and Italian campaigns. He also served in the Korean War."
Thinking of the type of person an accountant might be, doesn't necessarily jive with the vision of WWII combat, planning combat operations in Korea or gearing up through Special Forces for Vietnam.
"Being raised in a farming area of Minnesota, planning a career to support a family …war has a way of turning accountants and truck drivers and salesmen and grocers into Soldiers," said Susan Carlson, Michael's wife.
But Michael didn't know much about his dad's military past until he had been in the Army for five years.
Michael, who enlisted in the Army after briefly attending college, was returning from a trip in Tunisia, Africa with his Special Forces unit where he spent several months teaching local forces how to fire TOW missiles. When he got home he visited his mother and told her where he had been.
"She opened a book of pictures and showed me my dad marching into the Tunis," Michael recalled. "Before I even saw my dad I said, 'Hey, I know that place.' It was a circle in Tunis, Tunisia where they had the victory parade when they won in Tunisia in WWII. So when I saw the picture for the first time I was like, 'yeah, I've been there.'"
That was his first eye-opening experience to connections with his father, he said. Later, when they started looking through some boxes and documents he found a diploma from the Institute of Military Assistance which was under Special Operations command, Forces Command, at the time--and he had no idea.
"(Dad) went through the first counter insurgency schools and training courses in preparation for Vietnam, which was done by Special Operations, Special Forces command," Michael said. "And I had no idea there was any connection. Dad was going to be working in one of the operation shops when he got to Vietnam. The SF classes were an orientation to, 'We were no longer in the Korean War and no longer in the WWII, this thing is different and here's all the players.'"
But, at the time of his death, his children didn't know much about his exploits and were only concerned with one thing--what they would do next.
"At that time, the Army gave you 30 days and you had to be off post," Michael explained. "My oldest brother was at West Point at the time and my mother's thought was 'OK, we'll live near (the academy) and be close to each other.' So we settled near there until he graduated. He played basketball at West Point--he played for Bobby Knight during the same rea as Mike Krzyzewski (Duke basketball coach)."
Carlson and his wife are both buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
It wasn't until years later that the children, now grown, learned about the importance of their father's service to the military and the communities in which they lived. But they always had fond memories of living at Fort Knox and the times they shared with their father.
"He was very much involved with the family up to his death, at which time he became bigger than life to me as I learned more about him from my family," Michael recalled. "I mostly remember him taking us fishing. I was only nine when he suddenly passed so there are few memories."
But those memories also include summer camps; riding his bicycle down the hill behind his house toward Ireland Hospital and the Fourth of July with the accompanying large carnival and big firework show--made more special because as the deputy commander's children, they had good seats.
While his sister was older, she too has pleasant memories of her time at Knox.
"I loved going to high school there---the school was the right size for me--not too big or small," Moira said. "We also had TAHO for high school students--a Quonset hut which had a dance floor, game room with pool tables and pinball machines, areas with TVs and a lunch bar where we could get soda and food.
"It was a great place to hang out and meet friends. Usually the homecoming dance was held there. And (there was the) College Inn for college-age kids which added so much to kids in those ages."
Like many WWII, and Korean War Soldiers, Carlson was in more than one campaign, experienced combat, and saw different parts of the world. And earned a few awards. Among those are a Silver Star, a Legion of Merit--both for service in Korea--and a Bronze Star.
He was posthumously awarded another Legion of Merit Feb. 9, 1967 for his work on and around Fort Knox.
The family still feels some connection the area due largely to Camp Carlson, and the items they thoughtfully donated will continue to link their histories.
Michelle Albietz, the camp manager, ordered the construction of a shadow box to display some of the smaller items, and a curio cabinet for the larger ones. Carlson's daughter Moira thinks the display selections are ideal.
"A shadow box is perfect for dad as he was a woodworker," explained Moira.
"He made two corner TV cabinets and a five poster king size bed, which he made for him and my mother," she recalled. "He made it at the hobby shop at Fort Knox and didn't get it finished before he died. The guys at the hobby shop finished it for him and gave it to my mom. She used it for a while and gave it to my oldest brother, John. He used it for a while and gave it to me. So now my husband and I have it---then we'll pass it on."
Handcrafted heirlooms are a family's heritage and are to be treasured. But a legacy goes much further. And the one established by Carlson for his family and for the area around Fort Knox is one that will continue to serve. Just as he did.
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