It was just a summer afternoon walk with Dorinda at River Heritage Park in our hometown of Florence, Alabama — June 22, 2024.

Dorinda was about halfway through six rounds of chemotherapy in her battle with cancer. It was good to visit our hometown, get out and enjoy a little normalcy.

Exploring the plaques honoring Florence natives, we saw one recognizing Reeder Nichols, a distant cousin on my mother’s side of the family. The city inducted him into the Florence Walk of Honor in 2019. I had heard a little about him 27 years earlier when his son, Martin Nichols, visited from Australia and stopped by to see my mom and dad.

But on this day more than two years ago, I first learned about Reeder’s induction to the Florence Walk of Honor. Reeder Nichols was an accomplished radio engineer who later commanded the U.S. Army Air Forces’ radio group for Australia and the Southwest Pacific during World War II. A mountain in Australia is named in his honor — Mount Reeder Nichols.

I was reminded again of his story when a friend recently asked me places on my bucket list to visit. I mentioned Australia, since I had a distant cousin of some importance there. That set me on a path toward this column, which seemed appropriate with Veterans Day near. Nov. 11 also serves as Remembrance Day in Australia.

It will be a steep climb, but stay with me and I think you’ll enjoy the climb to the mountaintop. And this trip parallels a journey through the Pacific I’ve taken this year researching my dad’s life in the Navy aboard the battleship USS Idaho in the same window of time.

Ironically, Dad talked about his leave time in Sydney, Australia, as being the most enjoyable part of his Navy service. Now, it’s impossible to know if they might have ever met, but I wonder.

There are other parallels in their journey. They both grew up in Lauderdale County with humble beginnings, dirt poor. Reeder joined the Marines at the age of 19 in 1923, the same year my father was born.

And then there was World War II. Years after gaining fame as a radio engineer, Reeder Nichols was a central figure for the U.S. Army Air Forces in expanding communications in Australia. My dad, meanwhile, stepped aboard the Idaho in 1943 at the age of 19, eventually becoming a fireman 1st class, keeping the Idaho’s engine powered five decks below water in the belly of the old battleship.

In researching his service time for the book I’ve written, “Caledonia and Me,” I discovered Idaho’s route through the SW Pacific in places like the Philippines, Australia and New Caledonia, where my dad gained a nickname that stuck with him for the rest of his life.

He was aboard the Idaho during one of its most important campaigns — Iwo Jima — where he remembered seeing the U.S. flag raised on the Japanese island. Dad would be honorably discharged following that battle for what was then described as shell shock. The Idaho provided bombing support for the Marines going ashore.

Reeder Nichols’ work, meanwhile, was incredibly important in working with Australian allies. He was a major contributor in helping the U.S. establish a communications hub where they could operate far away deep in the Pacific, thousands of miles away from America.

Now, this is where the telling of this story gets steeper — it was almost lost in time. Reeder’s story was accidentally discovered when someone contacted a Florence historian asking about a Nichols man living in Australia.

David Gregg, who is married to my cousin Jackie Nichols and had written a book on the Nichols family history, began research and contacted Martin Nichols, Reeder’s son in Australia. David and Jackie would accept a commemorative plaque honoring Reeder Nichols for his World War II service at the Florence ceremony.

“It was exciting because nobody knew about it, and to know there’s family in a foreign country makes it feel less foreign,” David said. “It was a pretty big deal when we discovered this, and we’ve stayed in touch with Martin. There was a lot going on in Australia during World War II that we don’t hear that much about. We hear about Germany, Japan, the Philippines and other places, but he was setting up communications there that the U.S. could use as a base of operations from other places.”

Martin said his father’s principal base of operations was Brisbane for much of World War II, but that the U.S. footprint was everywhere.

Reeder Nichols would go into the telecommunications business supporting the Australian mining industry following World War II. Martin said he didn’t return to Alabama after 1950.

My mom’s biological grandfather and Reeder’s father were brothers, thus establishing the family connection.

Through Facebook Messenger last week, David helped put me back in touch with Martin, now 75 and living near Melbourne. More than 80 years after his father helped establish communications across the Pacific, modern technology allowed us to connect across that same ocean. He told me much more about his father.

And like I did with researching my father’s history, Martin learned much about his father only after Reeder’s death in 1975 through various papers left to him. That’s what led him to Florence in 1997 to gain a better understanding of his dad’s early life.

“He was a humble man with little to be humble about, but readily accepted recognition,” Martin said. “He was a quiet ‘ball of fire,’ driven by his interest in telecommunications. He was a proud American assisting relationships between your country and mine.”

It's been a remarkable journey, discovering the story of a distant relative. A distant time. A distant place.

But standing beside Dorinda in that park in 2024, I never imagined I'd be making this journey alone, facing a mountain of my own in life without her. We climbed many challenging mountains together during her battle with cancer. But there were too many of them.

She died on April 25, 2025.

Talking with Martin and David took me deeper into the SW Pacific and to a World War II connection with my father and a relative I never met.

This Veterans Day, I'll remember the service of both men to our country. And I'll be proud of both of them.

Maybe one day I’ll climb that mountain of visiting Australia. Martin and I would have a lot to talk about.

Our fathers.

And the mountains we climb.

*For an expanded version of this column, including additional photos, visit www.doublewwordsmith.com/blog.

Wayne Smith is a freelance writer and has worked as a writer and editor at newspapers across Alabama, Florida and South Carolina. His column focuses on navigating Gulf Shores alone after losing his wife to cancer, and the places he discovers and the people he meets. Read his previous columns at www.GulfCoastMedia.com. Contact him at wwsmith6410@gmail.com or visit www.doublewwordsmith.com.