November 29, 2022 Legacies

The Liberty Gazette

November 29, 2022

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: I was reading about Google’s private airport terminal at San Jose Airport near their headquarters. They have their own entrance, white-glove service, private security, and direct access to their airplanes. No need to shuffle among the rest of us; they’re special. If you’ve read our column for very long, you know how unimpressed I am with big egos. These self-proclaimed “giants” have done their good deeds and have chosen their rewards. What a legacy. In contrast, I asked Mike to share his memories of his grandfather. Enjoy a breath of fresh air.

Mike: My grandfather often sat on the patio with a glass of iced tea as he gazed to the southeastern sky through our tall backyard trees. He loved watching airplanes pass overhead every few minutes. They were on approach for landing at Los Angeles International. He always had the company of our family dogs when they weren’t out exploring the rest of the yard, and the desert tortoise was close by during the summer months. 

Grampa wasn’t tall, topping out at just five feet. It’s been nearly thirty years since he passed, but I can still picture him driving up the street in his 1973 Chevy Malibu with only the top of his mostly-bald head barely visible through the steering wheel. He attached a manilla folder to the visor to block the sun further down. He may have been short, but to many, my grandad was a giant. It the way he treated others. 

Grampa was a doctor. A general practitioner. During the Great Depression, he would accept chickens or eggs or some handyman work as payment for medical services, because most people then wouldn’t take something without giving something in exchange. But he was a firm believer in the Hippocratic oath, so no matter if he got paid or not, he never turned anyone away. Most didn’t have health insurance. Somehow, they survived, even without the government’s “assistance.” Mostly because people were generally other-centered rather than self-centered. 

Grampa served as a military doctor during WWII at a hospital in Hawaii for most of the conflict. He returned home to California and his family after VJ Day. His daily routine was to have breakfast with the family, walk five houses down to his office on Sunset Boulevard, and see patients until noon. Then he’d have lunch at home and see patients either at his office or the hospital into the evening. He also delivered my older brother, my sister and me. 

Grampa supported my dreams of flying. Not financially, but with the kind of support and interest only a grandparent can show. He did help me find specialists when I needed some extra tests for my medical certification. But mostly, he was just interested in what I was doing, where I was going, who I was becoming.

My grandfather never thought he stood head and shoulders above anyone, but I always knew he did because he loved helping people get well. That was his life’s work. That is his legacy.

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