Find Your Ancestors In Civil War Documents
(note: click on all of the photos to get the full size)
I thought writing about my father would be easy, but I discovered I really don't know much about him other than what's in my faded memories. He died when I was 15
years old so I never really got the 
chance to pump him for information about his life. Since I started on this genealogy kick, I found it easier to learn about his father, and my other ancestors, because there was more documented information available. I concentrated on them because it was easier. My father didn't leave a very extensive paper trail - there are no letters, diaries, school records or any other documents that would tell me what he was like as a child and young adult. If he did write any letters during his World War Two service they were lost to history long ago. The little I have doesn't tell me much. I have his 8th grade diploma, his social security number application, his Army discharge paperwork, copies of his birth and death certificates, and little else. I'm left to tell his story mostly from my memory and the little tidbits of information I do have - plus many assumptions.
Louie Agazio was born March 21, 1921 in a little town called Erie which is north of Denver, Colorado in what used to be a coal mining area. Sometime in the mid 1920s 
my grandfather, an Italian immigrant, was able to buy a small piece of farm land in Adams County and moved his growing family out of this rough mining area to a rural setting. All I remember my father saying of his childhood was that he worked. My grandfather made his living as a truck farmer. He would grow produce and sell it to various markets in the Denver area. I assume the whole family, to include my father, were involved in taking care of the crops from planting to selling. Since this took place during the depression era, I'm sure they all worked hard for just little return, but the family was appreciative for what they had.
My father had little formal education. The school he attended was just down the street from the farm, and he stayed until he graduated from the 8th grade. The
research I've done on schools at the time shows the
focus was mainly on the basics - reading, writing and math. After the 8th grade, it appears the expectation for him was to work with his father, brothers and sisters on the farm so the family could survive. The end of school wasn't the end of his education. He learned about growing produce and probably learned the basics of business from this experience. One of my warmest memories at home was my father's vegetable garden in the back yard. Every summer we would have some of the tastiest vegetables and fruit I've ever had, and this resulted from his work on the farm. In fact, every one of his brothers and sisters had large bountiful gardens at their own homes, and visits by all of them usually included sharing the produce with the rest of the family.
My father was drafted into the Army in June 1942 and entered active duty in July - he had just turned 21 a few months before. He became a Military Policeman and served
in the battle of Luzon in the Philippine Campaign. I know next to nothing about his service because he just wouldn't talk about it. I assume this was because my brother and I were young and he just didn't feel comfortable talking to us about it. However, because of my understanding of military doctrine, the employment of the Military Police, and the nature of the rear area battle in the Campaign, it probably wasn't a very comfortable experience. His unit was the 799th MP Battalion, but unfortunately I haven't found a good unit history that discusses its operations in the Theater. I did find one bit of information that said one Company of the 799th served as an escort to General MacArthur and his staff, but this probably
wasn't my father's unit. Although I don't have much documentation of his service, I do have a wonderful photo album 
of he and his fellow Soldiers in the Philippines. One thing he took out of his Army service, besides pride, was his love of motorcycles. After discharge from the Army, he was rarely without a motorcycle, and he passed this interest down to my brother and I. He served for 3 years, 5 months, and 14 days and was separated from the service on 24 December 1945. I'm not really sure what he did immediately following discharge from the Army, but I assume it was back to work on the farm.
On 1 August 1951, he married my mother (Mary J. Zaring) in Denver. In the following year, he began work at a company called Service Master where he would stay for the rest of his life. His job was laying, 
cleaning, and repairing carpet and became particularly skilled at it. I have a few memories during the 1960s when I was out of school and I accompanied him on his travels around the city cleaning and repairing carpets. I wasn't too thrilled at the time, but i sure do appreciate those memories now. Our neighborhood had a bunch of skilled workers and each would offer to help the others on their home improvements - one was a carpenter, one a plumber, and my father would do the carpet installations.
After marriage, the birth of my brother (1954) and me (1957) our family settled into a comfortable post war existence. My parents worked hard, and I suppose they struggled at times, but I don't
recall having anything but a wonderful childhood. My father wasn't into sports, but one thing he loved to do is go camping and fishing. Some of my fondest memories are of our family camping in the Colorado mountains and my father cooking trout he caught during the day - I've also never had better tasting trout then those cooked by him on these trips. Our family vacations usually consisted of traveling around for a week or two in the summer seeing all of those wonderful sites the state has to offer.
My father died on 13 September 1972 - about a year and a half after my mother. I regret I never got the chance to know him as an adult, discuss his life and learn about his experiences. One thing I did learn from him was how to be a good father. He was a patient, warm, and affectionate father who was always quick with a hug and loved to spend time with us - these are qualities I try to uphold with my own kids. I know he would be proud of both my brother and I for what we've become, and in reality, we've achieved what we have because of the start in life he gave us.
So, here's to you, Dad - Happy Father's Day!
