Frank R. Strle Jr.

Frank R. Strle, Jr. was born in Cleveland, Ohio on January 16, 1923, to Frank John Strle and Amelia (Skoda) Strle. Frank's father, Frank John emigrated from Yugoslavia as a teenager, and Amelia (Mollie), was born in Cleveland, Ohio to parents who had emigrated from Yugoslavia. Frank, Jr. was deeply infused with an extraordinarily strong work ethic, and an innate desire to better his station in life. Because his family struggled to make ends meet, young Frank would help supplement their income with hunting and trapping and later as a structural steel worker. It was those qualities along with a powerful sense of patriotism for his country that led him to enlist in the Army Air Corps at age 20. He was soon accepted for pilot training and graduated in 1944 from Ellington Field in Houston, TX. He flew missions in World War II and in 1945, he was briefly released from active duty. But Frank loved to fly, and in 1947, he went back to the Army Air Corps as a pilot and continued to fly until his retirement in 1968 as a command pilot with the rank of Colonel. During his Air Force career, he flew more than a dozen different airplanes, but most of his flying time was as aircraft commander in the behemoth B-52. Frank served in SAC during the Cold War, including the Cuban Missile Crisis, so there were long times away from home on TDY, on Alert and many, many hours of flying, accumulating more than 10,000 hours in his military career.



But even more than flying, dad loved our mom - Bea. They met as if by magic as Frank was visiting his father in the hospital and Bea tripped and spilled orange juice all over his uniform. That was the beginning of their love affair and marriage that began in 1947 and ended with his death in 1986. Bea was a strong woman, holding down the family while working full time and raising their five children who were each born at a different assignment station: Pat in Hawaii, Kathy in Tennessee, Mike in Germany, Richard in Florida, and Robert in Michigan.

After dad retired from the military, he found that managing shopping centers was a good fit and he did that from 1968 until his death in 1986.

When our dad died in 1986, the entire world stopped for our family. Dad was only sixty-three, and we never expected that he would leave us so soon. In many ways, he was larger than life to us all. So, from the time he died, our dad's ashes were enshrined on Mom's dresser.

But, after thirty-one years, it was decided that Dad needed a more permanent resting place that could forever be easily located. When the family visited Arlington National Cemetery a couple of years ago, we were so moved by its solemnity and history, Kathy proposed that we should make this happen for our beloved father. Soon she had all of us on board, too! And so, in 2017, he was permanently interred at Arlington National Cemetery. His beloved Bea joined him there in 2021.