Jerry Temple, 72, of Dallas and Dr. Marvin Goldstein, 84, of Kansas City are first cousins. Like cousins everywhere, they occasionally see each other at family weddings and funerals.
But, unlike most, these cousins have a unique and special bond dating back to the Vietnam War. They connected last month in Dr. Goldstein’s Kansas City home but not as part of a typical family gathering. This was their time.
In early 1967 both Temple (then Temposky) and Dr. Goldstein found themselves stationed 100 miles apart while serving in the Central Highlands region of Vietnam. Temple was an Army helicopter pilot having previously been a Marine in a Kansas City Reserve Unit. Dr. Goldstein, married and with children, was a graduate of Paseo High School and the University of Missouri. Dr. Goldstein was a newly practicing ophthalmologist when drafted.
Traveling the 100-mile distance between their two stations in Vietnam was daunting and dangerous by road. But by helicopter the trip was only 45 minutes. One day Temple caught a ride and flew to the evacuation hospital in the coastal city of Qui Nhon where Dr. Goldstein was becoming familiar with treating combat-related eye injuries. The cousins met, had a “real hamburger” at the officers’ club and returned to their respective assignments.
The Kansas City cousins had no inclination they were about to see each other again.
On March 13, 1967, Temple was flying as second pilot/gunner in a lead helicopter gunship on a live-combat rescue mission. Anti-aircraft fire hit the helicopter. Shrapnel pierced Temple’s body and severed an artery in his right thigh. The helicopter crew fashioned a make-shift tourniquet to stop Temple’s bleeding and flew the damaged helicopter directly to a M.A.S.H.-like field hospital.
When Temple regained consciousness after surgery, he implored the field medical team to not send a telegram to his mother about his situation. “When I woke up and realized I still had my leg, I remember saying ‘Don’t send a telegram! Don’t send a telegram! I have my own doctor!’ ”
Temple’s doctor cousin was notified of the situation. It was Dr. Goldstein who informed Temple’s mother — the late Sally Goldstein Bressel — of what had happened and who provided assurances her son was receiving excellent care. “Jerry’s mother was very emotional and I knew she would be very upset,” Dr. Goldstein recalls. “I figured it better for her to hear it from me rather than the war department or anyone else.”
Several days after being injured Temple was transferred to Qui Nhon. Here Temple again met up with his cousin, this time as he was literally being carried into the hospital when they saw each other in person. That’s when the letters — and a long-lasting bond — truly began.
On a daily basis during Temple’s recovery in the hospital in Vietnam, Dr. Goldstein wrote letters to Temple’s mother in Kansas City, keeping the family apprised of his cousin’s status and assuaging concerns as much as possible. He kept the letters coming until Temple was transferred to a hospital in Japan and, ultimately, to Ft. Riley, Kansas, for recovery and physical therapy.
Unbeknownst to Temple, his mother kept all his Vietnam era correspondence as well as a stack of the letters written by Dr. Goldstein. Upon his mother’s death several years back, Temple discovered the letters in a storage box. Since then he’s felt an obligation to share those letters with the cousin who penned them.
“It’s not that I needed to come back and say thank you,” said Temple of his visit this month with Dr. Goldstein. “That’ a given. I just thought it would be time to read these letters with Marvin and tell the Jewish community in Kansas City about what we did once upon a time.”
Temple continues to work as owner of Jerry Temple Aviation, Inc., (JTA) in North Texas, a leading seller of twin Cessna aircraft. Dr. Goldstein is a retired ophthalmologist and a longtime member of Congregation Beth Shalom.
Temple said Dr. Goldstein’s letters from the spring of 1967 will be photo copied and placed in an album.
“This is something I’ve wanted to do … this is the right thing to do,” said Temple. “Marvin will now be able to sit during some snowy day in Kansas City and read what he wrote years ago to his aunt and my mother.”