Military Veterans

Pat Kirkland grew up in an age when folks believed every right implies responsibility, every opportunity—an obligation, every possession—a duty.

She managed life’s inevitable disappointments with a smile, and she challenged her heartaches with patience and a noble determination to trust. 

Like her father who she remembered as one who dependably extended a helping hand to someone—an abused girl who lived with them for over a year, a family that needed a meal, a Black family trying to stay out of the Tulsa race riots—she lived to help others. 

Like her mother—who started a Red Cross Chapter in Tulsa, who was an early promoter of women’s rights, and who was active in educational change and progress—Pat was a community servant, particularly as a member of the Susan B. Allen Memorial Hospital Auxiliary for more than 30 years, giving 8,000+ hours to hospital service, and as an El Dorado Main Street volunteer.

But these facts about Pat Kirkland are only part of her remarkable life, one she shares with that generation of Americans whose stories still capture the awe and admiration of posterity.

Her Birth Place

Because her father was an accountant for an American oil company there, Pat was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina.  “I was a week late in arriving,” she recorded in her journal.  “So the morning of my birth, my father had gone to the horse races, had eaten a contaminated roast beef sandwich, was poisoned, and transported to the morgue, without anyone notifying my Mother.  As it turned out, however, they didn’t have to.  To the surprise of the attendants on  duty, he was not dead after all, and in fact just suddenly sat up on the bed or gurney where he was lying.”

A year later, Pat’s Dad was transferred to Tulsa.

A Navy Veteran—World War II Era

Although she met Jim Kirkland when she was in 7th Grade and lived across the street from him, they didn’t start dating until they were juniors in high school.  But after high school graduation, as soon as Jim turned 18 in November of 1943, he joined the Army Air Corps and became a B-17 pilot.  

“I cried and cried when he left,” says Pat, though she was excited when he wrote her from Italy and asked her to marry him.   Before she could give him her answer, though, they received word that his plane had gone down over Italy.   Jim was missing in action and presumed dead.  

Pat’s eventual response to this devastating news was to join the Navy herself, even though the war was winding down.

Then two days before she was to leave for Boot Camp, she received the most surprising phone call of her life.  It was Jim, calling from New York City.  His plane had indeed been shot down and broken into two pieces.  The front end (where he was located) lodged in a tree.  He and several crew members were trapped there, captured, marched to Germany, and placed in a POW camp.  News of this had failed to reach American sources until the Allies liberated the camp. 

“What a joyful time that was!” Pat wrote in her journal.  “Jim’s Dad gathered enough gas coupons from folks in his office so they could drive to Kansas City and meet Jim’s train.  The next day, my door bell rang and there stood Jim!  We stayed up all night talking, and I left the following morning for Boot Camp.” 

From Boot Camp, Pat was sent to Washington DC, where she was placed second in charge of the Women’s Brig for female German POWs, an experience she described as “very interesting and rather unusual at times.”  

Always exemplary, Pat was selected as a model for a Navy Recruitment Brochure. 

A Skilled Tennis Player

Pat was skilled at tennis and played the game until she couldn’t see the ball anymore.   Her initial interest in the sport was aroused because “at age 13, I was fat and funny looking, got tired of being made fun of, and decided to do something about it.”  Tennis was the solution.  She lost lots of weight and—had she not fallen and broken her arm —would have won the Tulsa City Championship while she was in high school. 

An Accomplished Singer

Pat was gifted with a beautiful operatic voice and was told when she was in college at the University of Tulsa that she was on her way to being a professional.  But after throat surgery (to remove polyps) in the Navy, she couldn’t sing anymore.  Her favorite song to perform was Schubert’s  Ave Maria, but she loved show tunes and particularly enjoyed Music Theater of Wichita productions in later years.   

A Multitude of Surprises

Other little known facts about Pat:  she was a 32-year cancer survivor;  in her 30 years with the SBA Auxiliary, she served as President, Vice President, Treasurer, Director, Gift Shop Manager (13 years), and was named Volunteer of the Year in 2004; she loved mystery novels (particularly Agatha Christie) and the old time classic movies; she was very patriotic—loved America and the military; her favorites—colors, were dark green and navy blue; foods—shrimp and peanut butter; tv show—Murder She Wrote; she was not the boy her parents were expecting, so was named Patricia after her nursemaid, who was Irish.

Her greatest treasure outside her family was Coco, a mutt she had picked out at the SPCA, despite warnings from the staff there.   “He had been abused by his first owner, but I was very firm and said Coco was the one I wanted.  Well, it took almost a week before he learned to trust me and licked my hand.  From then on, we were best friends.”

Remembering Jim

As high school sweethearts, Pat and Jim had gone everywhere together—dating, dancing, playing tennis.  “We loved to jitterbug.  He was 6’3” and I was 5’1”.  It was quite a sight to watch!” 

Their romance endured through World War II, they were at last wed on August 16, 1947, and their  marriage lasted nearly 40 years.    

They moved to El Dorado when Jim’s engineer division at Skelly Oil Company in Tulsa was dissolved in 1961, and he was offered a job here.  “The girls and I joined him in May of 1962.  He loved (and doted over) his daughters (Billee Douglass of El Dorado and Colleen Cox of Augusta).  He retired from Skelly/Getty/ Texaco in November 1984, cancer was discovered in February 1985, and he died in July 1987.”

Pat Kirkland’s life stands as a testimony of an ordinary American accomplishing ordinary works in an extraordinary way.  Her final legacy was a gift to PIE.   This generation has been greatly enriched by the choices and sacrifices willingly offered for its  benefit by Pat and that era of Americans whose selflessness and courage she shared. 

World War II