Click here for gallery
The perfect setting for an event is rarely perfect. It is rare to have a space that flawlessly reflects the occasion. This is what happened at the National World War II Museum in New Orleans on
August 11, 2010.
Though it’s been a while since I’ve updated the perpetual forward motion of my father-quest, the story has taken on a life worthy of an update. It was among a gathering of invited guests in the Solomon Victory Theatre at the magnificent Museum that my father’s story was witnessed a most amazing way. Despite a ragged August heat and tropical rain all day (the windows get steamy INSIDE!), the evening was flawless.
The inception of this event began two years ago when I was invited to speak at the American WWII War Orphans Network
conference in Tucson. The speaker scheduled after my presentation in packed hotel ballroom that November morning, was Stephen Watson, COO of the new WWII Museum in New Orleans. When Stephen and I talked that morning he suggested that our Spiegel TV film about my father’s last flight, (I’d shown the trailer in my talk), should be shown at the museum. I told him I loved the idea, but it wasn’t up to me – the film belongs to Spiegel TV. I predicted correctly that this could take time.
The spirit of time elapsing and things coming to fruition are manifested for me in the 1980’s movie, Continental Divide, The male lead actor was an unusually serious and romantic John Belushi who played Chicago Sun Times reporter, Mike Souchak. Souchak is covering the story of an archeologist’s presentation at the Museum of Science and Industry. Though any public presentation I would make was more than a decade in the future, I was entranced with Blair Brown’s portrayal of a smart woman who had something to say a theatre full of other smart people. People, I might add, who got off the couch at home on a weeknight to attend her lecture. Two indelible things remain for about that movie: one was that we named our new cat, Souchak, and the other was that I wanted to do what Blair Brown did in that move and speak at a museum about something important.
None of that was on my mind at the AWON conference in Tucson in 2008, as I’d long grown accustomed to speaking in front of an audience by then, but I hoped that Stephen Watson was serious about showing my father’s story at his new museum. Stephen and I stayed in touch, and only two years after our consecutive presentations in Tucson, the U.S. premiere of, “A Love in the Time of War: The Last Flight of Lt. Shannon Estill,” was scheduled to have its U.S. Premiere at the National World War II Museum. I realized that I was going to be that woman on the museum stage and people would be getting off their couches at home to hear what I had to say!
Kay Siering, the film’s Spiegel TV producer, flew to New Orleans from Hamburg, Germany and we arrived at the museum the next morning to meet Jeremy Collins (who should win a lifetime achievement award for the best use of an undergraduate degree in history). He took us on a private tour of the museum until it was time to enter the Solomon Victory Theatre to watch the $10 million 4-D film produced by actor, Tom Hanks, Beyond All Boundaries, The War That Changed the World. The museum brochure best describes it as: “conceived and commissioned by the Museum, with Tom Hanks as Executive Producer and Narrator, Beyond All Boundaries weaves a spectacular tapestry of this epic conflict. The words and stories of actual WWII participants are brought to life by many of today’s leading actors. You will experience the war in first person, as if you were there. State of the art special effects plunge you into another time, another place. You will feel the rumble of Tiger Tanks in the Kasssarine Pass, steam rising from the jungles of Guadalcanal, and snow falling inside the theatre during the punishing Battle of the Bulge. Most of all, you will understand, as never before, the price of our precious freedom.” Kay leaned over to me and said, “I wonder if we can add some of this to our film by tonight?”
We had lunch in The American Sector, Restaurant, a perfect replica of a WWII era restaurant – including grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and chocolate malts on the menu. This museum stays in character even outside the exhibits.
All the museum guides are volunteers and most of them are WWII vets. One special guide and former paratrooper, Tom Blakey, was my invited guest to our premier that night. Photos of his artistic contribution to the museum can be found on the photo link.
A reception, held in the Stage Door Canteen, preceded the film. The two giclee prints made from watercolor paintings by artist, James Hartel, depict the film I English and in German were displayed at the reception.
When we entered the Solomon Victory Theatre for the second time that day, it was for OUR movie, which had its genesis nearly 10 years ago when Kay Siering called me from Germany and asked if I would be interested in having a documentary film made about the search for and recovery of my father. Neither of us knew how the story would unfold or even if the upcoming search would yield anything of interest (though I had my suspicions that both would be realized).
By the end of that conversation, the project was underway. Before it was completed in 2006, we spent countless hours with the film crew in Germany, Washington, D.C, Arlington, Virginia, Salt Lake City, Phoenix, and Hawaii. We filmed at the National Archives, the Library of Congress, Arlington National Cemetery, the crash site in Elsnig, and my home in Scottsdale. We shared an incomparable experience during that time including countless interviews, portions of which are included in the film; we visited the safety deposit box where my parents letters are kept; we explored the trunk that holds my father’s memorabilia; we laughed, we cried, we were in awe of what we discovered, and it was all reduced to a 52 minute testimony to our collaboration. I have often told Kay (and Theo and Christopher) how life-changing this experience was and how it is the full measure of honor to my father’s memory.
The film has been shown on four continents since its German premiere in 2006. The day the film was shown on German television for the first time, I placed the rosette next to my father’s name on the Wall of the Missing at the American Cemetery in Margraten, Holland, indicating that he had been found. I watched the German premiere of our film in the Aachen apartment of Air Historian, Hans Guenther Ploes and Ernst Eberle, two of the most significant members of Team Estill. The film was made in German, and an English version was completed a few months later. Until we took our seats in the Solomon Victory Theatre, Kay and I had only seen the film on a feedback monitor in a control room at Spiegel TV. So this was, a rare chance to see our film not only together but in such an major venue.
At the Museum, my job was to introduce the film and Kay. Until I saw the theatre earlier that day, I had no idea how daunting it would be and how appropriate. I have included the transcript of my remarks on another link. It bears witness to the challenge of expressing gratitude in way that conveys the depth of my feelings.
The film shown in that theatre can only be described as, very BIG. Though I’ve seen it countless times, it still has the power to move me to tears. I am always reminded, when I see photographs of my mother, of how the lived experience of the American WWII war widow transcends time. Not much has changed with subsequent wars, except that now they are not pushed to remarry so their children aren’t suspected of being illegitimate. Not that my mother married her second husband who raised me, because of that veiled society judgment, but she admitted it was “better” to be married if you had a baby.
When the film ended, Kay thanked Stephen Watson and the Museum for hosting the American premiere of the film. He said that he usually completes a documentary in a few months while ours took a few years. He said that he usually doesn’t get involved in a sustainable way with his documentary subject, nor does he travel to as many places and have such grand adventures.
We spent another 45 minutes answering questions from the audience. This was a discerning group – their questions were astute, considered, and thoughtful. A question that I remember was when someone asked if I was finished with this quest. I tried to say yes, but the truth is, there always seems to be one next thing that draws me back. This film premiere, for instance, brought the story back to the front of my life, as would a film festival held at the Museum in the future. And, there is always “the book.” Also, it is likely that I will be speaking at the International WWII Conference at the museum in 2012.
In my introduction to the film, I said that my father’s story had come to rest in this place of memorial and remembrance. The idea that those 3,000 pages of illustrated correspondence between my parents might also find a home there along with the most special artifacts, doesn’t allow for a wrap up. Also, there is still research to be conducted and work to be done on behalf of others whose loved ones never return from war.
What I love best about these opportunities to tell my father’s story, is after an event when people share their stories of loss with me. These are often the stories that define them and about which they talk so they can heal. I heard some of those stories after the film, for which I am a grateful witness.
I honor the people with the courage to tell their story and I thank them all for taking the time and the effort to get up off their couch on a rainy muggy Wednesday night to hear mine.
So, this is still not ‘The End’ but another level of experience on behalf of my father’s memory. Stay tuned………