This is a story about Pfc. Louis Grippo and his travels during World War II. But a little background first. I grew up in my father’s family building on West Taylor Street in one of the Italian enclaves of Chicago. My mom’s family lived on South May Street, two blocks away.

In my early years, we went over there almost every day. When I was in grammar school, I was there every Sunday after church. I went for Grandma’s homemade apple pie. Sitting at the dining room table, eating the apple pie, I couldn’t help but notice the photo on the wall.