Maintenance window scheduled to begin at February 14th 2200 est. until 0400 est. February 15th

(e.g. yourname@email.com)

Forgot Password?

    Defense Visual Information Distribution Service Logo

    KWAJ-19-111: Inadvertent Discovery

    KWAJ-19-111: Inadvertent Discovery

    Photo By Jessica Dambruch | A military station card signed by U.S. Navy Lt. H.E. Clark, validating officer, was...... read more read more

    MARSHALL ISLANDS

    01.18.2020

    Story by Jessica Dambruch 

    U.S. Army Garrison-Kwajalein Atoll

    If you lose something on Kwajalein, chances are good that the folks who live here will return it to you. In today’s Kwajalein Hourglass, we share a lost and found story that has been in the making for more than 50 years and isn’t quite over.

    The find was recorded in the Kwajalein Archaeology ledger last spring as “Kwaj-19-111: Inadvertent Discovery.” Workmen restoring a heavy equipment facility removed a portion of old masonry. Inside it they found something unexpected: a wallet that archaeologists Caitlin Gilbertson and Grant Day believe lay untouched for more than 50 years.

    Gilbertson went to work cataloguing and numbering each piece in the wallet’s contents. She found the surname Bollinger printed on the scraps inside. Among them, a worn service card indicates that one Homer L. Bollinger, presumed to be the wallet’s owner, served in the U.S. Navy. According to an immunization record in the wallet Seaman Recruit Bollinger was inoculated in 1951.

    Close your eyes and picture the wallet. You’ve seen it before. Its nondescript brown leather is frayed and softened by time. This is the wallet a gentleman living between 1925 and 2020 would own until it popped at the seams. He would then go out and buy another exactly like it. It was classic, durable and good-looking—just like a Sailor in the U.S. Navy.

    What’s in The Wallet

    Swollen by moisture and time, the wallet’s sleeves preserved fragments of the life of a young Sailor in the 1950s. Inside are sepia-toned photographs of friends and family members; a Social Security card; a wallet-sized prayer card; a calling card; a driver’s license; and a card for U.S. Naval Station No. 824 bearing Bollinger’s Fireman Apprentice rate.

    The wallet also contains a shred of its original black-and-red packaging with the brand for Prince Gardner, a Missouri-based leather goods company since 1923. In one pocket, Gilbertson found a small amount of money—the stub of a $10 bill with “Hawaii” stamped on its corner in heavy black.

    In the 1950s, when Bollinger turned up on Kwajalein, possibly between deployments, the island was a hotbed of activity. The island was a staging ground for equipment and personnel supporting weapons tests. Accounts culled from records, letters, photographs and journals indicate that personnel from multiple branches of service cycled through Kwajalein on a regular basis. Construction and safety operations were ongoing as U.S. armed forces framed their early infrastructure. The U.S. Navy did not transfer command of the island to the Army until 1964.

    In short, it was a perfect time for someone to grab a wallet from a Sailor.

    “I think the wallet may have been stolen and tossed into the construction site,” Day said of the find. “It only makes sense. There was no money found with the wallet. None of the other primary documents inside it were disturbed.”

    In the wallet are three photobooth-style portraits: a matron in a hat; two smiling young men in Sailor uniforms, piled into the frame like puppy dogs; one man, alone, smiling at the camera. The other photos have begun to fade: a young man and a dog; two youths and a woman who might be their mother; a man in uniform standing on a hill; a man holding a child in a suburban neighborhood; and a young woman kneeling on the pavement, arm outstretched.

    In her search for the owner, Gilbertson turned to open-source search engines to hunt data and turn up clues. According to a 1940 census, an eight-year old Bollinger lived in St. Louis, with his mother Opal, 26, and father Elmer, age 38. He had one sibling, his one-year old brother, Melvin. The two boys could be the same young men in the wallet photos. If so, the Homer Bollinger in the photo would be at least 18 or 19-years old: old enough to enlist and see the world.

    At last, turning to records from Madden Rural Cemetery in Missouri last catalogued in 2000, Gilbertson found three names. One Homer Lee Bollinger, U.S. Navy Korea, passed away March 29, 1979. Side by side nearby, Elmer and Opal lay at rest.

    Additional searches conducted using public domain military personnel records and historical societies have not yet turned up additional records for any of Bollinger’s living relatives. However, the search is far from over. Until proven otherwise, it is the opinion of the Hourglass that Bollinger may yet have a living relative. The Hourglass brings you these stories and names in hopes that perhaps a family member or friend may step up to tell us more. Until then, the wallet remains at Kwajalein Archaeology until it, too, can ship out for home.

    One thing is for sure. Someone may have been waiting for Bollinger. One can only hope she caught a first glimpse of him when he set foot on the hot tarmac or stood topside as his ship returned to port.

    “Dear Slim,” reads the back of the calling card. “The Sailor boy who I love. I love you. Carol.”

    NEWS INFO

    Date Taken: 01.18.2020
    Date Posted: 04.29.2020 01:55
    Story ID: 368750
    Location: MH

    Web Views: 486
    Downloads: 0

    PUBLIC DOMAIN