It’s late morning on Memorial Day, May 26, 2025. The air is cool for late May, low hanging rain clouds forbidding the sun’s appearance.
Most of the Hudgins boys and a couple of nephews are gathered in the cemetery of Belmont Baptist Church south of Gainesville, Ga. Their mission: to raise a military marker that had disappeared into the grassy soil over the years. It was the one public recognition Lewis Alton Hudgins received for his service in the Army Air Forces during World War II.
In a recent search, John Hudgins, Alton’s nephew and a member of the church, found the Hudgins headstone, in plain sight. But no military marker. He located it, pushing a metal probe into the ground until he hit something solid eight inches deep. He needed help raising it.
His brother James is there to help. So are two nephews, Bart and Barry Latty. Terry, Alton’s son, and I are there to watch, along with Ann Hudgins Williams, sister of John and James.
Alton was a left waist gunner on a B-17 during World War II. He flew 35 missions, according to documents he left behind, and received the Air Medal, three Oak Leaf Clusters and the prestigious Distinguished Flying Cross.
Terry asked his father one day why he received the flying cross. Alton’s answer: “Because I survived.” In fact, Alton was the only member of his 10-man crew who was not killed or injured. It wasn’t a brag; it was a mere fact.
Alton kept a pocketsize notebook during the war. On March 22, 1943, he wrote: “Today was Berlin again. Our No. 1 engine was knocked out, and the prop dropped off. Wenrich was hit by flak in the arm and leg. I did what I could for him until we could get to the base. This was a tough raid. No. 16.”
Alton never talked to Terry about the war, his son says. What he learned came in bits and pieces, perhaps overheard or surmised. But Alton left behind a plastic container of memories, memories with photos, letters, his notebook, his mission documentation, his military awards, a map of France showing possible escape routes, a scrapbook put together by his mother and sister, Gertie, his high school diploma, his funeral-home booklet, left without any entries.
It’s as though Alton was saying, “I did what I had to do. I survived while others didn’t, and now I don’t want to talk much about it.”
Terry wants every cousin to go through the container of memories before returning to him. He wants all of us to be proud of his dad.
And we are. Proof is the military marker raised to the level of grass, a new American flag standing tall beside it, with six pennies lying on the marker, representing Lewis—brother of James, John and Ann—and his family, on vacation in Florida.
Shortly after noon, the low clouds succumb to the sun, and Staff Sgt. Lewis Alton Hudgins’ military recognition, etched in marble, is shining brightly for all to see once again.
Phil Hudgins is the senior editor of Community Newspapers Inc. Reach him at phudgins@cninewspapers.com.