We made it to Evansville without incident and went on the LST 325 tour. This craft was built in a Philadelphia shipyard during 1942 and initially ferried supplies to Sicily, and then to Salerno. It was transporting supplies and injured soldiers on the second day of the Normandy Invasion, and after a refit was on her way to the Pacific when the A-bomb ended the war. After a short period in mothballs, it was recommissioned in to take part in the Inchon landings in Korea, and was then used to haul equipment and supplies to build the Distant Early Warning radar (DEW) line during the mid fifties. The ship was then transferred to the Greek navy where she served another 30 years. A group of former LST crewmen then got permission to retrieve the ship make her seaworthy and sail her back to the US.

Evansville was chosen as her new homeport as several hundred LSTs were built there. This ship is unique as it is the only restored WWII vessel that can still run under her own power, and makes an annual cruise up and down the Ohio and Mississippi. This year's cruise will take place in a few months.

Part of the above was written by James, since I have been in the bathroom. The barbecue last night was great, but I think too rich for my system and I was interrupted several times during the night. However, I felt okay when I got up this morning and did fine touring the LST despite the sun. We also visited a small hobby shop. We intended to get back to Owensboro and perhaps try to hitch up with Rodney or Jen for lunch, but when we stopped back at the hotel to give Wil a walk and check on Schuyler (she's been chirping and quite lively today), I found myself trapped in the bathroom. It may have been that being in the sun. I don't do well in sunlight since the radioactive iodine treatment and it just gets worse as I get older.

We did go find our way to the theatre and had some lunch to be able to make it to supper, and found the other little gaming shop that we couldn't find yesterday. James found a game he could no longer find at home.

In the meantime, I've read about half of Mr. Monk in Outer Space, which is filled with rather bad fannish stereotypes (but then it wouldn't be humorous if real-life conventiongoers were portrayed).

Labels: books, museums, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 2:23:00 PM

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