He was many things: a father, grandfather, husband, business owner, traveler, a fine upstanding community pillar of Wilmington, Massachusetts and a lover of peanuts, sailing, and good old fashioned fun. Most of all, though, Austin Rounds was known as a pilot. His love for airplanes began at an early age. In a box of his old things, I found a large (12x18 inch) scrap book made in the early 1930's. He was probably around ten years old and had pasted in many pictures of airplanes cut out from newspapers and magazines. During my childhood, he had a small plane in his barn that he was building himself. He worked on it for years until it became a family joke. He sadly never finished it, but he still flew a small Cessna up and down the East Coast.
He loved to share the joy of flying with anyone. We, Maryland grandkids, loved when he would fly down to visit and take us up to fly with him. At my grandfather's funeral a few years ago, a man stood up to tell his experience flying with my grandfather. Austin had promised to take a troop of Boy Scouts flying as a reward for something. He took them up one or two at a time for short flights. This man was last in line for his flight. As my grandfather did the pre-flight check, he found some small problem with the plane. He couldn't bear the disappointment of the last Scout not being able to fly, so he said, "Agh, it will be all right!" and took him up anyway. This young Scout remembered that flight for the rest of his life and became a pilot himself as an adult.
In the box of his things, I also found bundles of letters that he had written home from his Army training in 1943. He had signed up, hoping to make it into the (what else?) Army Air Corps. As I read through some of his letters, I realized that it's been exactly seventy years since he entered the Army. I also realized that I had only known him as a grown-up, my grandfather, the one who brought us presents, took us to feed the ducks at the pond, and promised to pay us a quarter if we could balance on the top
of the jungle gym. Reading these letters, I saw him in a different light. I saw the 19-year-old kid from small town Massachusetts excited to be seeing the country for the first time, hoping to be a pilot, but sometimes missing the comfort and family back at home.
Austin Rounds was an adventurer. He passed on that legacy to his children and grandchildren. He traveled around the world and took most of his grandchildren on trips to a location of their choice. I went to a dude ranch in Colorado, and the experience fulfilled every wish of my young cowgirl wannabe heart. My older brother shared Grandpa's love of planes and went to the Oshkosh, Wisconsin air show. Another brother went fishing in Canada. Sisters and cousins traveled with him to Jamaica. After my grandpa died, I was privileged to accompany a 12-year-old cousin in fulfilling his cowboy dream back at the same dude ranch. It was heaven for a not-so-young-anymore cowgirl.
As I reflect on my experiences with my grandfather, I miss him. I wish that he were still here to see his grandchildren's world wide adventures and the births of his great-grandchildren. I want to take one last adventure with him, and I will, through his letters. For the next two years, I will post his letters home on the dates that they were sent. I assume that these letters will be of most interest to his family, but anyone else interested in World War II pilots is welcome to come along for the ride. As I'm already behind a few months on his letters, I will post them as quickly as I can until we are caught up to the correct date.
I knew my grandfather mostly as a child relating to grown-up, (which means I mostly thought about me). I would love to know and share experiences that others had with him so that I can understand him better as an adult. Anyone else who would like to share stories or pictures of Austin Rounds would be welcome to do so. Just contact me at mygrandpathepilot@gmail.com.
Please post any questions or things you wonder about in the comments section.
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