About Me

Pearl City, HI, United States
Husband, father, grandfather, friend...a few of the roles acquired in 69 years of living. I keep an upbeat attitude, loving humor, and the singular freedom of a perfect laugh. I don't let curmudgeons ruin my day; that only gives them power over me. Having experienced death once, I no longer fear it, although I am still frightened by the process of dying. I love to write because it allows me the freedom to vent those complex feelings that bounce restlessly off the walls of my mind and express the beauty that can only be found within the human heart.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025

Speech: Preserving the Past, Gifting it to the Future


Copyright © 2025
by Ralph F. Couey

Good Evening,

On behalf of the USS Missouri Memorial Association, I want to welcome you and express our sincere and heartfelt gratitude for the many ways you continue to support Battleship Missouri and its programs. 

My name is Ralph Couey. I am a tour guide and a former crew member of Missouri, serving from 1988 to 1990, the last two years of my Navy career.  I was a Chief Petty Officer in charge of Combat Engagement Center and the 65 good men who worked there.  As you might expect, many memories lurk among the passageways and compartments, ready to ambush me unexpectedly.  I can tell you that the first day I came back aboard to work here was an emotional experience.  I remember entering the ship's interior, being enveloped by that familiar scent of steel, paint, and fuel oil, and knowing I had returned home. 

Since that day, I’ve had nothing but fun, and I am so pleased and proud to work with such a great crew. I am hard-pressed to remember when I’ve been around a happier, more caring group of people. 

There are many memorials in the United States, touchstones of times of challenge and adversity, times that demanded from each of us our best efforts, passions, courage, and, most importantly, our unity. These places are where we can return to those moments and eras that molded us both as a nation and a people. It is good that those events can still inspire us because it is so vital that we remember our past.  We must honor those who went before, stood up to the dangers, and did the arduous work that brought us to this day.  Their stories, those accounts we need to tell and re-tell again. 

Memory is fickle. Time has a way of softening details and changing perceptions. For a given event in history, there are two groups of people: those who remember and those who learn.  We who were around and cogent on that terrible day we know as 9/11 have strong memories of that tragedy, driven by shock, sorrow, and, yes, rage.  We watched, most on television, some who were present as those aircraft knifed into both buildings of the World Trade Center.  We learned about the attack on the Pentagon and watched with disbelieving eyes as that great concrete battleship burned.  We heard about Flight 93 and the heroism of those passengers and crew who sacrificed their lives and prevented an even larger tragedy.  That day unfolded before us as no day ever had, burned into our memories.  We remember what we were doing, how we found out, how we felt, and what we feared. 

In the 23 years since a new generation was born and grew up, and 9/11 is different for them.  They don’t have our powerful emotional memories, so while they watch the abundant video footage, they may feel some emotion.  But there is no personal link to that day. And unless their parents and teachers have been diligent, for many of them, I suspect it might be just another test question. 

This is why it is so very important not only to pass on the facts of that day but also to convey the emotional impact we felt and why—how it changed our lives and our world. If we in this room choose not to do that, then we ensure that 9/11 will one day be just a dry recitation devoid of meaning or purpose. 

You see, it’s not enough to have a memorial.  Its meaning is incomplete without the story behind it.  It gives the memorial depth, breadth, and, most importantly, a connection.  Missouri’s Tour Guides tell that story in such a way that it connects with our visitors, hopefully, that they learn that Missouri’s history is also their history.  We take that responsibility very seriously. For those who once knew, we help them remember.  For those who never knew, we help them learn.  When people like you lend your support to a memorial, you help ensure that the story is not forgotten, that it never fades, and it will remain just as real and powerful as the day it happened. 

I spent several years studying the Civil War, particularly the events surrounding those pivotal three days during July 1863 around Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  Two enormous armies collided in that small farm town for no other reason than the presence of the extensive road network. 

From July 1st through the 3rd, North and South gave battle.  The cost in blood was horrendous, with 51,000 casualties on both sides, including around 10,000 dead.  

When we lived in nearby Virginia, I visited the battlefield many times and was always deeply moved by its solemnity. It seemed that I could feel in the landscape the very weight of the tragic loss of life. 

One evening, I was standing on the hill known as Little Round Top, lost in my thoughts in the gathering dusk. Nearby, a young family was standing together. I heard the voice of a young girl ask, “Daddy, what happened here?” 

The father knelt, gently wrapped his arm around his daughter and began to speak softly.  And thus, the story of Gettysburg was passed to a new generation. 

Ultimately, that is the essence of what we do aboard Missouri: preserve and pass on the story of this battleship and the country whose flag she still proudly flies into the hearts and minds of new generations and, thus, into the future.  In the past, we have always depended on the voices and memories of the veterans of that era.  But those voices are falling silent, lost to the merciless ravages of time.  It becomes the duty of our voices to carry their memories forward.  In a very real sense, Missouri is also their monument, a living, vibrant testament to their courage and valor.  

Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, one of the heroes of Gettysburg, was speaking of that battlefield when he said,


“Heroism is latent in every human soul, however humble or unknown.
In great deeds, something abides. On great fields, something stays.
Spirits linger to consecrate the ground.
And reverent men and women from afar, and generations that know us not,
shall come to this field to ponder and dream.
And the power of that vision will pass into their souls.” 

Visitors come to the USS Missouri from afar, some generations who never knew of World War II.  But they come here and touch the past. Through that touch, they learn of the toil and loss, the courage and valor, the sacrifice and struggle.  They sense the darkness of war but revel in the glorious light of hope that shone forth throughout the world when peace was finally restored, restored here on the decks of Battleship Missouri. 

This ship must stay alive.  Those stories must continue to be told.  Each generation must be taught of the past in a way that it becomes personal and meaningful.  We preserve, and we pass on.  This is our commitment.  Your role is no less vital.  Without the continued support of people like you, Pier Foxtrot Five would be empty.  And a crucial part of our nation’s history would fade into silence and be forgotten. 

As long as Missouri exists, we will keep this story alive. We are a memorial, and we have a mission. That mission is to remember—to remember all those who served and especially to remember and honor those who will never be coming home. Join us in that mission.  Help us keep the story alive for today, for all the tomorrows yet to come, and for the generations we will never know.  

Thank you, and good evening.


Speech: A Look to the Past, a Charge to the Future



Copyright © 2025
by Ralph F. Couey

On December 7th, 1941, at 7:55 AM, the quiet calm of a Sunday morning was shattered by explosions and the hoarse sound of general quarters alarms.

In the first few minutes of the attack, hundreds of American Sailors, Soldiers, and Marines had already lost their lives.  This was the tragedy.  Then came the triumph.  The personnel aboard the ships did not wait for orders but rather reacted in accordance with their training and, in those same first few moments, filled the sky with anti-aircraft bursts.  It is important to note that most of them were barely older than these magnificent student musicians here.

The war that began with that attack lasted 3 years and 10 months, during which time some 69 million people lost their lives.

Then, on September 2nd, 1945, USS Missouri was anchored in Tokyo Bay, Japan.  The destroyer USS Lansdowne brought a delegation of Japan’s representatives alongside.  Among them was the Foreign Minister Mamoru Shigamitsu.  For years, he led the peace faction within Japan’s government.  This did not make him popular with the hard-liners, who wanted to fight to the last man and the last bullet.  Mr. Shigamitsu was targeted several times for assassination.  One of those attempts cost him his right leg.  It was painfully difficult for him to have to climb down the side of a destroyer, then climb up the side of this battleship, and then up an additional ladder in order to arrive on the starboard side 01 level where the ceremony would take place.  I also know that when someone risks their life several times in the cause of peace, that by definition makes him a tough guy.

At the appointed time, General of the Army Douglas MacArthur came on deck and opened the ceremony with a few words.  It is important to note that in 5,000 years of Japan’s history, she had never been conquered, never been defeated, never been occupied, never had to surrender to anybody.  So this act of coming here and submitting to both surrender and occupation was not only unique to their experiences, but it was also a powerful shock to their entire country. We need to remember that today.

But when General MacArthur began speaking, he didn’t talk of revenge, retaliation, or recrimination.  Instead, he spoke of justice, tolerance, peace, and reconciliation.  This took the Japanese completely by surprise.  On the day when they had come here to surrender to their bitterest enemy, the last thing they expected to be treated with this level of dignity and respect. 

When General MacArthur completed his opening remarks, he invited…not ordered…invited the Japanese to come forward and sign, which they did.  Over the next 23 minutes, the required signatures were applied, and the war was over.  General MacArthur, speaking over a global radio network, said the following words:

“Today, the guns are silent.  A great tragedy has ended, a great victory has been won.  Death no longer rains down from the sky.  The seas bear only commerce.  Men everywhere walk upright in the sunlight.  And the entire world lies quietly at peace.”

One of the Japanese representatives recorded in his diary that the General’s words turned the deck of this warship into an altar for peace.

Missouri is a magnificent sight, a presence both majestic and powerful.  She is a vessel of war.  But she is also a symbol of peace.  It was here on these decks where humanity’s longest and bloodiest war came to an end.  It was here on these decks where peace was restored.  And it was here on these decks where hope was reborn throughout the world.

That day was Day 1 of a new way forward.  Once the bitterest of enemies, Japan and the United States became the closest of friends.

Those of us who work aboard the Missouri tell this story with respect, dignity, passion, and pride.  Those who once knew come here and remember.  Those who never knew come to us and learn.

It is easy to look only at the guns, missiles, and armor and conclude that this is Missouri's only language.  But when you stand on that deck and look at that plaque, know that this ship of war is also a place of peace.

This is how I know my ship, a place where the seemingly impossible dream of peace became a reality.

I am proud, so very proud to share this story with you.  I hope that from this day we can all realize what can be done when we are strong enough, united enough, and courageous enough to do the impossible.

For our students here, I also have a personal message.

In the near future, your community, your country, and your world will become your responsibility.  The time for talking and complaining will end.  The time of doing and fixing will begin.  Problems exist, and more are on the way.  Your intelligence, passion, and energy will be needed.

People are called ordinary for a reason.  They don’t stand out, they don’t step up, they don’t accomplish much.  Ordinary people don’t change the world or challenge problems.  To choose to be ordinary and average is to float downstream on the current of indifference, never leaving a sign of their passing.  But the problems remain, the challenges unmet.  Lives that could have counted for incredible things are wasted.

I challenge you to resist "average."  I charge you to turn your back on "ordinary."  Choose instead to be incredible, magnificent, astonishing.  Rise above expectation.  All of you have been given individual gifts, talents, and abilities that belong to no one else.  It is your responsibility to use them.  Do not ever accept the status quo.  Never accept that things cannot be different because it's just how things are.  I am a member of the Woodstock Generation, and I pass the passion for change and the energy to change things that was ours to you.  I challenge you to create a better place, not only for you, but for all those who will follow.  Your time is now.  Do not waste this chance.  Do not let us down.

I watched you march proudly down this pier, and it was an inspiring sight.  You must now march just as confidently and energetically into the future that awaits all of you.  Stand tall.  Be strong.  Step up and lead with optimism and compassion, driven by the engine of fresh ideas and the passion of hope. 

We present to you our world.  Make it better.  Make it yours.

I appreciate your coming to my ship today, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day aboard the Battleship. 


Speech: Time to Lead



Copyright © 2025
by Ralph F. Couey

There is a story about a young Marine who won a medal for fearlessly charging an enemy position.  He was asked later how he summoned the courage for such an act.  He replied, “I wasn’t running toward the enemy.  I was running away from my sergeant.”

When someone joins the military, it can be an unsettling experience.  It’s an entirely new and alien environment.  They are rarely sure what to do or when to do it.  In those moments, they look for help, direction, and assurance.  The person they always look to is the one with all the stripes.  There, they will find knowledge, wisdom, experience, encouragement, and the occasional kick in the ass.  That person is the Non-Commissioned Officer.  That leavening influence in a unit is essential in the day-to-day of peacetime.  It is absolutely critical in war.

It takes someone special to be a soldier, and it takes something rare to lead them. The roles of a Staff Sergeant are many and varied. They include training, administration, instruction, counseling, discipline, and being the subject matter expert on being a soldier.  But beyond those roles is leadership.

Soldiers want and need to be led, whether they realize it or not.  No matter how confident a soldier is, the acquisition of experience takes time.  That requires the steadying influence of the “been there, done that” NCO.  Therefore, all NCOs are responsible for teaching not only the technical aspects of this profession of arms but also the value of discipline.   In battle, that discipline will keep a young soldier on the line.  And alive.

However, the most important things that an NCO can impart to the troops are the more profound lessons of courage, honor, integrity, and commitment.  These are the most important reasons for wearing the uniform. 

An NCO helps soldiers grow as they respond to the challenges they face.  To confront adversity, rather than turning away.  To learn what it takes to become a leader.  To find within themselves the power and strength to stand their ground.  This was always for me, as a Chief Petty Officer, the most satisfying and fulfilling aspect of my job, taking a raw, nervous, inexperienced kid and watching them become a strong, confident, and skilled fighting sailor.  I’m sure many of you standing here also remember and treasure those moments in your careers.

Admiral Mike Boorda, a Mustang who rose to the position of Chief of Naval Operations, once told a group of Chief Petty Officers, “I may run the Navy.  But I assure you, the Navy runs because of you.”  This is an undeniable finite truth that applies to all the armed services.  All the great things the Army has ever done were because the Sergeants made it happen.  You are where the rubber meets the road.  Where battles are won…or lost. 

This country will likely find itself in another war in the coming years.  If that happens, you will be at the tip of the spear.  Know that the outcome of any battle is absolutely dependent on all of you doing your duty.  And on the sergeants to lead the way.  But wherever you give battle, make sure that the enemy knows that field belongs to the United States Army.

Sergeants, your time is now. Step up. Stand tall. And lead.


Re-learning How to Love -- And Trust Again.

 

Falling in love once again...

Copyright © 2025
By Ralph F. Couey

A lot has happened since the last time I checked in here.  Cheryl and I got sick in March, which stretched well into April before whatever it was finally released us from its vile clutches.  It left us both sapped of energy, and it's been a slow road back.  Then, about the same time we put that behind us, My Urologist decided that my continuing struggles with prostate issues had come to a head, and last Wednesday, I had surgery.  It wasn't major, as surgeries go, but, sparing you the details, my plumbing system is already improved.  I was out for about 2 hours, and it's taken another huge effort post-anesthesia to regain my stamina.  

Now, some good news.  Through one of our daughters, we were introduced to a wonderful lady who has been suffering for years from crippling chronic pain.  She was looking for someone to adopt her dog, a cute little Bichon named Pickles, as she wouldn't be able to care for her any longer.  We love dogs but haven't had one since we lost our beloved Tweeter in 2016.  He had been with us for 17 years, and that loss was sheer heartbreak for both of us.  We avoided getting another one because of that.  As one wise person said, a dog's only fault is that they don't live long enough.  Long story short, we agreed to adopt Pickles and will take her in late May after I return from Virginia.  The circumstances are sad, but we are happy to once again have a furry, loving companion back in our family.  We met with them on Monday and had a wonderful, meaningful time together.  This will involve some changes in our lifestyle, but none that will cause us any regret whatsoever.  It does leave us with the feeling that, as ecstatic as we are to get Pickles, we could feel the lady's heart breaking because of this necessary choice.  

Our brother-in-law is near death. He has been sliding backwards for some time now, and his health is at a critical juncture.  He has decided to give up and is impatiently waiting for the end.  This is, of course, very hard on the family, particularly since just over a year ago, they welcomed their first grandchild.  It has been a very sad, stressful time for us all.

Last year, a big trip to Japan and Okinawa was planned, and Cheryl and a number of family members are leaving on May 8th.  This will be Cheryl's first trip to her ancestral homelands, and she is looking forward to the trip.  As part of it, they will be attending the Rose Festival there.  The few days in Okinawa should be amazing.  Her mother's family is originally from Okinawa, and I hope she can do a little family research while there.  I know that once I better understood my family's history from Ireland and France, many questions were answered for me.  

Her mother hasn't changed much as she creeps ever closer to her 99th birthday in October.  She still recognizes us, and remains the sweet, loving, kind person she has always been, but dementia has taken away so much from her.  

Once I return from Virginia, I will be on my own for a while until Cheryl returns from Japan.  Hopefully, all the bills will be paid on time, and the house won't become a disaster.  I do have a couple of projects planned. Hopefully, they will be successfully accomplished.  We still have a lot of stuff in the house that belongs to other people, but I'm getting to the point that, since they don't seem to want it, I'll just get rid of it.  I also have to make some decisions about the accumulation of my own stuff that needs to go away.  That means that, <sigh>, I have to go through my book collection again.

I leave the same day, but for Virginia. Our son contacted me after the dates for Japan were set and invited me to visit them for a couple of weeks.  This visit coincides with the championship rounds for Ian's NFL Flag and his travel team.  I am very excited to watch him in person.  His video highlights have been nothing short of amazing, and the reports of his performances have been incredible.  I'll get to spend time with their youngest, Sophie, who is such a joy to be around.  In addition to piano, she has picked up a brass instrument called a baritone, kinda like a miniature tuba.  As I used to play one, I am so looking forward to watching and listening to her.  The oldest, Diana, should be coming home from her first year at college about that time, and I can't wait to hear her stories.  They should be epic.

Life at the USS Missouri has been a lot of fun.  I enjoy every tour I lead, and listening to the stories of people from all over the world never gets old.  I gave a tour to the Deputy Prime Minister of New Zealand, and a lion-hearted soul if there ever was one.  I continue to get positive comments from our visitors, and I'm a little squeamish to admit that never gets old, either.  A colleague is getting promoted in her Army Reserve unit and asked me to do the promotion.  I know how important this is in a servicemember's life, and I was surprised and humbled to be asked to contribute.  Oh, and she also wants me in uniform.  So, this Friday, I will once again don my khakis, pin on the anchors, pull on the hat, and be a Chief Petty Officer again, even if just for a couple of hours.  

So much of the last two months has been a reminder of how quickly life can turn, from good to bad, and back again.  The time when days were repeatable is long past, even for us in the silver hair set.  That life, despite the most careful planning, is patently unpredictable.  It requires fewer charts and graphs, and more nimble feet to dance around the things that barrel into our lives so unexpectedly.  And rudely.  But dance, we will.  And hope for good outcomes, and pray for the strength to survive the bad ones.  

And cherish each day, no matter what comes.