Ernest Cunningham, Jr. and his wife Mooneen.

While Ernest “Ernie” Clair Cunningham Jr. and his wife Mooneen (Anderson) are “definitely” enjoying the warmer climes of their adopted home, Pensacola, Fla., they do return to their home-town of Mt Jewett to attend high school reunions at the Kane Country Club every year in May. They were even caught in a snowstorm during a visit here once, Cunningham said.

    After a 32-year career in the U.S. Marine Corps, and a second career in accounting, Cunningham has finally retired for good, and has time to reminisce about his beginnings. That’s when he and Mooneen aren’t away visiting their five grown children and seven grandchildren who live scattered across the U.S.

    Growing up, Ernest Cunningham Jr., (called “Sonny” by his community), remembers being out in the woods all the time with his father, the original Ernest Clair Cunningham. His father worked on local oil leases before they dried up, Cunningham said. The elder Cunningham taught him about the woods, passed along a love of the outdoors, hunting and fishing. These were things that Ernie carried with him for all of his life.

His mother, Margaret Starner was half Swedish, and could even speak Swedish! Cunningham remembers his mother being involved in the Mt. Jewett Swedish festival, and partaking of related activities at St. Mathews Lutheran Church, including tasty smorgasbords featuring such specialties as Swedish meatballs, Korv, Lutefish and pickled herring.

“I loved them all,” Cunningham said.

Margaret frequently painted in traditional Swedish style, and sold her paintings and painted signs for the Swedish festival and for the town. Some of her work can still be seen on the small Swedish festival building on Main Street.

The family was also involved in the St. Mathews Lutheran Church, and he remains a lifelong Lutheran, Cunningham said. Cunningham’s siblings were Ruth Mae, Leatrice and Joyce Danielson, the only sister still living. Growing up, his best friends were Ed Kocjancic and George “Bud” Swansen.

Cunningham was in the Boy Scouts. His scout leader, Harry Rebeneck, of Boyd Street, was a WW1 Veteran, who had served in Europe, and still suffered respiratory problems as a result of having been gassed. Rebeneck taught Cunningham about the military, and it might have been his influence that eventually led to his year-long stint with the National Guard at the Armory in Kane during his senior year in high school, and later to his joining the U.S. Marines in 1950 at age 17. But actually, when it came to things military, “Ernie” was hooked ever since he was a very young boy, making and collecting toy soldiers and balsawood model fighter planes, said his sister Joyce.

Cunningham graduated from Mt Jewett High School in 1950, a year before the high school closed down, transferring its students to Kane. He credits the old fashioned community schoolhouse, which housed students K-12, with teaching all the basic material he needed—and teaching it well. There, the students learned reading, writing, arithmetic and history. The rudimentary principals of these subjects were drummed into the students’ heads so they continued to remember them throughout their lives, Cunningham added.

“A good education is the most important thing starting out in life. It came in very handy,” Cunningham said. With only a basic high school education, Cunningham was able to go into the Marine Corps as a Private, and come out as a Colonel 32 years later, he said.

Cunningham stayed on bases in the United States early on in his career. He went to flight school, was commissioned, and became a naval aviator, flying jets mostly. Cunningham served as a helicopter pilot in Vietnam after transitioning to helicopters in 1968. While home on leave in Mt. Jewett, he began dating Mooneen, a local girl four years younger than he. They were married April 12, 1958. Their children are Lori, Steven, Tracy, Jeffrey and Cathleen.

Because of his military career, the family moved 16 times while the children were growing up. They’ve been all over the country, from California, on the west coast, to many parts of the east coast, and even the Philippine Islands abroad. Except for the Philippines, the family had to stay behind when Cunningham was sent abroad, but Mooneen was a great mother and homemaker, steadfastly accepting her role as a military wife, Joyce said.

While still in the military, Cunningham got a degree in Accounting. When he retired, he went to the University of Western Florida, and got a Master’s degree in Accounting and Computer Science. Cunningham continued life as an accountant until retiring again five years ago, this time for good.

What Cunningham doesn’t tell us, as he didn’t tell his own family until recently, is that he is actually a highly decorated war veteran who received three Distinguished Flying Cross Awards for three separate actions in Vietnam. Blame his sister Joyce for mentioning them.

According to the award citation narratives, the first was for his actions on December 17, 1968: Then Major Cunningham commanded a CH-46 transport helicopter in enemy-controlled territory east of An Hoa in Quang Nam Province. His mission was to insert Marine infantry battalion “elements” into the territory. That meant flying under heavy fire to hazardous locations. Despite his helicopter having sustained battle damage from small arms fire, Cunningham continued to return to the fire-swept site four times, executing low –altitude, high-speed approaches to drop off men.

On February 7, 1969, Cunningham piloted another CH-46 assigned to extract a reconnaissance team “in heavy contact with a numerically superior enemy force” west of DaNang in Quang Nam Province. Twice, heavy enemy fire forced him to abort the rescue attempt. But after Marine artillery fire missions and gun ships had strafed the hostile positions, he returned and “fearlessly executed a low-altitude, high-speed approach through the heavy volume of fire,” and “skillfully backed his CH-46 into a clearing near the ground unit’s position,” the citation narrative said. “Despite turbulent winds and lack of a visible horizon,” Cunningham maintained the aircraft in a hover position, with the boarding ramp touching the side of the hill.” His “courage, superb aeronautical ability and steadfast devotion to duty at great personal risk inspired all who observed him,” the citation narrative said.

Two months later, as aircraft commander, Cunningham launched another CH-46 to medically evacuate the crew of a transport that had crashed in a heavily wooded area south of DaNang.  He attempted this despite deteriorating weather conditions and approaching darkness, and his aircraft came under a heavy enemy fire. “Alertly pinpointing the hostile emplacement, and directing suppressive fire,” Cunningham hovered the aircraft close to the burning helicopter, while he supervised the rescue operation which lasted almost an hour, the narrative said. “With complete disregard for his own safety,” and ammunition detonating inside the downed aircraft where some troops and a photographer were inside, Cunningham maintained his exposed position until the men were all on board.

To this day Cunningham dislikes receiving publicity over his war stories and the expansive use of the term “hero”—especially when applied to guys like him.

“You’re going to bore everyone with those (stories),” he tells us. “We were only doing our job, and they paid me well.”