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Robert Dyskant 1924-2023 I am sorry to report that my friend and fellow veteran has passed away. He was in the U.S. Army Air Force. At the age of 99, I believe he was the oldest veteran living here at Four Seasons. He never wanted to bring attention to himself. I guess that is why he never acknowledged his status. I have known him for at least the past seven years. His wife and my wife are good friends. I enjoyed many conversations and sips of wine with him, and although he was reluctant to talk about his service years, I did get some information from him. He flew at least three sorties in a B-17 as a tail gunner on bombing missions over Germany. It was either 3 or 13, not sure of the count. He said that the missions were just a ploy to let the German's think that this was the real assault before the Normandy invasion. They dropped their bombs and returned to England's airfield. On each flight, flack was always present all around the aircraft. He said many of his comrades did not make it back. I suppose that was one reason he didn't want to talk about his experience in World War II. Many of you might have seen him over the years in the gym. He was always trying to stay active. He told me he had led a charmed life. One time, while training at an army base, several soldiers went into town. He had no money, but his Sargent gave him some and went into town with him. They were drinking and playing pool. (He told me that he had once played pool with Minnesota Fats.) When the last bus was leaving, he tried to get on, but the driver told him it was too full. It was standing-room only. They could not shut the door. He had to stay overnight and wait until morning. That night, the bus he was supposed to ride in was hit by a train and a dozen soldiers were killed. The impact was right at the door where he was going to stand. His Sargent was one of those who died. Another time, he was driving toward Denver on his way back to New York. He got so tired that he had to stop and get a motel room. The motel was full and they would not let him sleep in the lobby. He tried to sleep in his car at a gas station, but a cop told him he could not stay there. There was a rest stop 10 miles down the highway. He tried to make it there, but fell asleep at the wheel and almost drove off a steep cliff. The impact into the mountainside woke him up. He lived some of his early years in Steubenville, Ohio. I remember this fact because my sister was born there too. He told me that he used to get his hair cut at a shop that was owned and operated by Dean Martin's father. I believe this was a true story. Dean Martin was also born in Steubenville. To say that he was "old school" would be an understatement. After he could not drive anymore, I drove him to the Beaumont Library to get some tax forms he said he needed. After getting there, I asked him, "Why don't you just download the forms yourself?" What does "download" mean? He still wanted to do his own taxes. I downloaded and printed the forms for him. His story about how he came to California could have been made into a movie. I wish I could remember all the details, but my memory is fading too. He also said he was friends with Bob Hope and worked for Jack LaLanne. Were his stories true? I believed them. They were always delivered with a nonchalance and a candor that portrayed an element of truth. I just want to say that I told him he was my hero and that I always admired him for his efforts to keep going in spite of his failing health. I will miss him. Submitted by his friend, R. Terry Miller Farewell to Friends FOUR SEASONS BREEZE | JUNE 2023 67