By now all three DeShazer sons were in the military. Mark had been drafted into the army and was stationed in Germany. Paul was in the air force and stationed on the tiny Pacific island of Guam, from where U.S. bomber aircraft were taking off to bomb Vietnam. John was in the thick of the fighting in Vietnam. Jake knew how brutal war could be, and he constantly prayed for his three sons, that they would have faith and courage.
During the year at home in the United States, Jake spoke in churches about the realities of war and how God had sustained him. He comforted many mothers and fathers who had lost their sons in the fighting in Vietnam or who lived in daily fear of a knock on the door delivering bad news of their son’s death.
Jake and Florence and their two daughters were back in Japan by 1972. They immediately noticed that the mood of the country had turned ugly toward foreigners. However, because of his many years living among the Japanese people, Jake was still respected and loved by those he served.
Both Jake and Florence realized that this would be their last missionary term in Japan, and they made the most of every moment. Their family was all but grown up. The Vietnam War dragged on, and Paul was still in the air force overflying Vietnam in bombers. John and Mark had both completed two-year tours of duty in the army and were now safely back in the United States. Carol completed high school in Japan. She then went to Aldersgate College in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, Canada, where she met and fell in love with fellow student Ken Dixon.
Jake’s mother died in 1973. She had lived to be ninety years old. A year later, in December 1974, Carol and Ken Dixon were married in Yokota, Japan. Jake proudly officiated at their wedding.
A year later a large Christian organization arrived from the United States to make a television special about Jake’s life. Rex Humbard and his World Wide Ministry spent a month listening to Jake’s story and filming. The end result was a book and documentary titled From Pearl Harbor to the Pulpit. Jake was pleased to think that this was another opportunity to get the gospel out.
Before Jake and Florence departed from Japan in 1977, the couple spent the last few months visiting the fourteen new churches that had been established during their tenure as missionaries there. Several of these churches existed as a direct result of Jake and Flo’s efforts.
It was difficult for Jake to board the airplane for the trip home for the last time. He and Flo had invested twenty-nine years of their lives into the Japanese people, many of whom felt like family to them. Still, Jake knew that it was time to leave, and the opportunity to work more closely with the home missions board excited him. There was still plenty of work to be done!
Chapter 19
An Upturned Goblet
Upon their return to the United States, Jake and Florence were not yet ready to retire. They were both in good health and eager to continue their missionary work at home. For the first year they were back, they continued to serve under the direction of the Free Methodist Church, crisscrossing the United States and holding missionary meetings. The theme at these meetings was always the same. Crowds gathered to hear the story of the Doolittle Raider who returned to bless the country that had taken him captive and tortured him for forty months.
Those attending the meetings were different now, however. The World War II generation brought their children and grandchildren to catch a glimpse of history. Jake made sure that they got more than that! Every person he preached to went home with a clear sense of the gospel.
After a year of constant travel, Jake and Flo settled back in Salem, Oregon. It was now 1978, and they had been gone from the United States for most of the past thirty years. They had ten grandchildren to get to know, and Jake also served as the assistant pastor at a local Free Methodist Church in Salem.
Now that they were home for good, Jake was able to consistently attend the Doolittle Raiders reunions each April. In April 1978 he made his way to Rapid City, South Dakota, for the reunion. About fifty members of the Doolittle Raiders were still alive, and Jake was among the oldest of them. George Barr had died of a heart attack in 1957, but Bob Hite and Jake still represented the crew of the Bat at the reunions. The two of them, along with Chase Neilson, were like family now, calling and writing to each other throughout the year. Jake was especially close to Bob, who had become an enthusiastic Christian later in life.
The Doolittle Raiders reunions evolved over the years from simply being a time for those who participated in the raid to get together and fellowship and reminisce to giving back to the community where the reunion was being held. In each of these cities, a talented young man or woman seeking a job in the aerospace industry was offered a college scholarship in the name of Jimmy Doolittle.
At the 1959 reunion held in Tucson, Arizona, the city presented the Doolittle Raiders with eighty silver goblets in a custom-made display case. Each goblet bore the name of one of the Raiders, inscribed the right way up on one side and inverted on the other side. The goblets bearing the names of dead Raiders were turned upside down, while the goblets representing those still alive were left right side up. At each Doolittle Raiders reunion, a roll call of those living was taken. Those in attendance answered for their comrades who were absent. Each man present then took his goblet and drank a toast to his comrades. The last two Doolittle Raiders left alive would eventually open a special bottle of vintage cognac and toast all of their departed comrades. Of course, when he attended the reunions, in keeping with his pledge, Jake would drink only water from his goblet, while the others toasted with cognac.
The 1994 reunion held in Fresno, California, was particularly poignant for everyone who attended, including Jake. General Jimmy Doolittle had died in September 1993, at the age of ninety-six. Right to the end of his life he referred to the Raiders as “his boys.” Even in their own advanced years, the members of the Doolittle Raiders loved the title. Jimmy Doolittle had truly been a father figure to many of them, and now it was time for General Doolittle’s goblet to also be turned upside down.
In 2001 Jake learned that Mitsuo Fuchida had died. He recalled what a faithful friend and coworker the man had been and how the two men had sat together and reminisced on Jake’s last trip back to Japan.
Jake had, in fact, made three trips back to Japan since retiring as a missionary. Each trip he made had been at the request of the Free Methodist Church in Japan. While he was there, Jake would preach and participate in the celebration of various church anniversaries.
The year 2000 had ushered in the dawn of a new millennium, and Jake found it hard to believe how fast time was passing. Twenty-three years had elapsed since he and Florence had left Japan as missionaries. Jake tried to keep as active as he could in his ministry. Two years later, in 2002, Jake preached his last sermon at the age of ninety.
The next year, 2003, Jake attended the Doolittle Raiders reunion in Fairfield, California. It would be the last reunion he attended. Soon afterward he began showing advanced signs of Parkinson’s disease. He also began to experience dementia. Slowly, Jake’s world began to narrow until it became difficult for him to hold a conversation. Still, he enjoyed visits from his pastor, Doug Bailey.
On one visit Pastor Bailey asked Jake, “Do you remember when you were a prisoner of war in Japan?”
Jake looked quizzically at Florence. “Was I a prisoner of war?” he asked.
“Yes, Dear,” she replied, “You were a prisoner of the Japanese for over three years.”
“Oh,” Jake said. “Really?”
Doug tried another tack. “Do you remember being a missionary in Japan?”
At this question Jake’s eyes lit up. ”Yes, yes,” Jake said. “The whole family was over there. We began churches around the country. How I love the Japanese people!”
The pastor smiled. Jake had long since forgiven the Japanese, and now he appeared to have also altogether forgotten their brutal treatment of him. But Jake would never forget giving the best years of his life to live among the Japanese as their friend.
On March 15, 2008, Jacob DeShazer died quietly in his sleep at home in Salem, Oregon. He was ninety-five years old.
A month later Florence went alone to the Doolittle Raiders reunion in Dallas, Texas. She watched silently as his goblet was turned upside down, never to be used again. She recalled how Jake had always asked for water in his goblet while the others drank cognac. Yes, Jake had been a unique man, unafraid to stand out in a crowd and stand up for what he knew to be true. He had taken forty terrible months of his life and turned them into a life of triumph over hatred and bitterness.
