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continued from page 20
However, despite her expertise,
Shirley wasn’t given a commission in
the Navy, something that still infuriates
her husband more than 70 years later.
At the time, you needed an undergradu-
ate degree to receive an official rank.
OT, whose development was still in its
infancy, was not yet given the respect it
rightfully deserved.
Shirley wasn’t look-
ing for recognition —
she was only looking
to help. So, despite the
fact her educational
credentials should
have afforded her
the rank of corporal,
she humbly accepted
the role of Hospital
Corpsman Second
Class. In that capacity,
she went on to become a pioneer, a true
trailblazer in her field and for women.
During WWII, Shirley trained officers,
developed innovative new therapy
techniques and went on to be the chief
of OT departments in Naval hospitals
that she helped create in San Diego and
Seattle.
War had other plans for Morris as well.
His education and employment pur-
suits were interrupted when he, like his
beloved Shirley, enlisted in the Navy in
November of 1942. “I was anxious to get
in,” he said. “I would listen to the war on
the radio, what was going on in Europe
as far as what Hitler was doing to the
Jews. I wanted to personally get there.”
Having already completed a variety of
courses in biology, science and first aid,
the Navy deemed Morris well suited to
be a Hospital Corpsman First Class and
assigned him to the Great Lakes Naval
Hospital in Illinois for formal training.
Over time and with additional train-
ing, Morris rose to Pharmacist Mate
Third Class and served in that capacity
aboard the USS Norman Scott and USS
William C. Miller. He took direct orders
from medical officers and played a criti-
cal role in the administration of hands-
on care including giving physicals and,
as Morris vividly recalls, even “scrubbing
and assisting on surgeries.” At one point
during his time at sea, the Miller was
Their love and devotion to
each other, like so many of
their generation, had been
sustained by letter writing.
The Beiders today
without a physician, essentially thrust-
ing Morris and one other pharmacist
mate into the role of ship’s doctor.
More drama on the USS Miller lay
ahead for Morris when on Feb. 23, 1945,
he would have a front-row seat to histo-
ry as an eyewitness to the iconic raising
of the flag on Mount Suribachi during
the battle for Iwo Jima. “We were about
300 yards away from the shoreline,”
Morris said. “I watched though a pair of
borrowed binoculars. You could watch it
like it was in a movie.”
Morris had already witnessed his fair
share of historical milestones while in
the armed services; his return home
from overseas would provide yet anoth-
er. “I arrived home on April 12, 1945, the
day President Roosevelt died.”
HOME AGAIN
After reuniting with his family in Detroit,
Morris called Shirley, who was still on
active duty in Seattle, to let her know he
was coming to see her. “We had only seen
each other a handful of times,” Morris
recalled of their time apart since the sum-
mer of 1941.
Their love and devotion to each other,
like so many of their generation, had
been sustained by letter writing; trea-
sured letters that remain in a box in the
Beiders’ home that Morris and Shirley
respectfully asked to keep private. She
did share with me, however, that “they
included a lot of I love you’s.”
Of his impending visit to Seattle,
Shirley informed Morris: “If you’re going
to come, we’re going to get married;
otherwise, don’t come.” Less than three
weeks later, on May 2, 1945, they were
married in the home of a Seattle rabbi.
In December of 1945, they moved to
Detroit to begin their lives anew.
Shirley went on to become the first
student at then Wayne University to
earn a bachelor’s of science degree in
occupational therapy.
Her first job interview at Ford
Hospital was one she’ll never forget.
“They needed an OT to run their depart-
ment but after my interview I was asked
what my religion was. I said, ‘Is that
important?‘” The interviewer replied,
“Yes.” Shirley responded that she was
Jewish, at which time she was informed:
“I’m really sorry but we can’t hire you.”
No further explanation was given. None
was needed.
To say the least, her next interview at
the Veterans Administration in Dearborn
had a far different outcome. After her
experience at Ford Hospital, a resolute
Shirley informed her interviewer that she
was an observant Jew and needed “to take
off every religious holiday. I am leading
an observant life and I want you to know
from the beginning. If you can’t do that
then I’m not going to work for you.” The
interviewer responded emphatically, “No,
no, no. You’re perfect! We need you right
now. Can you start today?” Shirley did.
Shirley went on to an accomplished
career in occupational therapy. She took
a break while helping raise her three chil-
dren, but eventually returned to her pas-
sion of OT on a part-time basis when they
had grown. To this day, Shirley is sought
after by young people seeking advice
about the field of occupational therapy.
With support from the GI Bill, Morris
went on to receive his undergraduate
degree and teaching certificate from
Wayne University and a master’s of art
from the University of Michigan. After
working in a variety of occupations, he
accepted a teaching position in indus-
trial arts at Ferndale High School, where
he became a beloved, award-winning
teacher for 28 years until his retirement
in 1983. During his tenure, Morris would
also proudly serve as the first chairman
on the Committee for Negotiations for
the Michigan Education Association.
The Beiders have spent their retire-
ment traveling the world and enjoying
their 10 grandchildren and six great-
grandchildren. Today they stay close to
home and look after each other with the
same love and devotion they had the
day they met and fell in love at summer
camp 76 years ago.
Like I find when I write about every-
one from our Greatest Generation, the
Beider story includes far too much his-
tory to share in just a single column.
You might say they are far more deserv-
ing of a book. A “Book of Life” perhaps?
At this time of year, I can’t think of two
people more deserving. •
Morris Beider was on the USS Miller when it escorted the USS Indianapolis to the island of Tinian
on July 26, 1945. Only after the fact would he and his crew learn that they had been part of a
secret mission that would change the course of the war.
“We took the bomb to Tinian,” said Morris of the startling revelation that he was an unknowing
participant in the Indianapolis’ delivery of components for the world’s first atomic bomb that was
destined for Hiroshima.
Sadly, four days later, the Indianapolis, the ship that survived the attack on Pearl Harbor, was
sunk by a Japanese torpedo; 880 of the 1,196 on board perished — the single largest loss of life
at sea in U.S. naval history. Its final resting place remained a mystery until just this past Aug. 17
when a civilian research group, led by Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen, announced they had discov-
ered the long-lost wreckage of the Indianapolis in 18,000 feet of water in the North Pacific.
22
September 14 • 2017
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