A small world, a big life

Jim McCracken spends three days a week at the Southern Prairie Family Fitness Center. He’s quite spry, even at 78. During one visit in November, McCracken joined his friend Mark Hayes and was introduced to Mark Williams.

Williams recognized McCracken (Williams’ wife Cindy taught at Earlham the same time McCracken did), and the two began chatting and reminiscing. They parted ways as acquaintances do.

He never could have guessed, but this conversation would reconnect McCracken to a decades-long series of research, family memorialization and pure chance as he traced his family history back to World War II.

The other Jim

Jim McCracken may be from Denison originally, but the McCrackens are from all over Iowa. Jim’s father, Don McCracken, grew up on a farm close to Manilla, with his younger brother who was also named Jim. Alongside the two brothers was sister Lorraine, the youngest sibling. Don would go to university at Iowa State in 1941, while Jim went to Drake in 1942.

Lorraine would later describe her brother Jim to the younger Jim. “He was the nicest boy I ever knew,” she said. “And all the girls liked him, all the boys liked him, the teachers and the parents — everybody liked him."

Jim only had one year at Drake. He enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1943 and was overseas by 1945, promoted to corporal and part of the offshore reserves during landings at Iwo Jima.

He wasn’t the only one in the family who would enlist. Don served in the army during the Korean War, and the younger Jim followed during Vietnam.

Jim, while away from home and overseas, kept in contact with his parents Newt and Milda McCracken through letters. When Newt and Milda’s letters started being returned, they knew something was wrong.

They were first told Jim was only wounded in combat. Then, the official notification was given. Jim McCracken fell in combat on Feb. 25, 1945.

Remnants of the fallen Jim are throughout the family. When the younger Jim was 32, his mother Helen passed. During the funeral, Jim’s grandmother said she had something to show Jim.

In the bedroom of his grandparents’ house, a plastic cover was removed from the closet. Jim’s grandmother, who he called Nana, unzipped the cover and revealed a Marine Corps uniform.

“This was Jim’s,” Nana said. “We thought since you were named after him, you might like to have his uniform.”

Jim said it was the first time anyone told him he was named after his uncle.

Stuck in the foxhole

On Feb. 13, 1963, a man and his wife showed up to the McCracken residence in Manilla. Douglas Crump, from Idaho, was at their door.

Crump had enlisted in WWII and was part of the same unit as Jim. Crump made a promise to Jim during the siege of Iwo Jima. If one were to pass, the other would write to their parents.

When Jim was killed, Crump kept that promise, writing regularly to the McCrackens since 1945. The surprise visit in 1963 was a shock to Newt and Milda. Feb. 13, after all, would have been Jim’s birthday. If he lived, he would have been 39.

This visit would be documented in The Manilla Times, and that article was discovered in 2003 by the younger Jim. Fascinated, he contacted Crump and later visited him in Riggins, Ohio, where he would learn the full story.

“I asked Doug if he would tell us what happened on Iwo Jima,” Jim said. “He said the first day on the island, they eventually moved up to the front line in the middle of the night. Somehow, he and Jim got separated from the rest of the platoon and were in a foxhole that no one else knew about.

“A mortar round landed right in between them, and they both got hit severely, but Jim seemed to be worse. Doug said, ‘Jim knew he was hit pretty bad.’”

The two would repeat their vows to each other, with Crump insisting Jim be taken to medical attention first. Crump, in 2003, had lived a fruitful life and, now living in Riggins, had a wife and two children. His son, Bob, was there when Crump told the story to Jim.

“Bob looked at me and said, ‘This is the first time I’ve heard that story,’” Jim said.

The treasure trove

Jim’s grandparents would pass within eight years of each other, his grandfather in 1993 at 95 and grandmother in 2001 at 102. It wouldn’t be until 2010 that Jim would finally start diving into several boxes that the two left in his name.

Boxes and boxes of old cards and letters his grandparents had kept were in those boxes, the majority of those letters coming from World War II. Sympathy cards following the older Jim’s death measured in triple digits with 215 cards and letters. Jim said his grandmother had saved virtually all the Mother’s Day cards she received.

The greatest find from this trove were letters from his father to his grandmother while he was attending Iowa State and the older Jim’s letters from his time at Drake.

“I got to experience my dad when he was much younger than I had ever known before,” McCracken said.

The letters of sympathy for Uncle Jim were mountainous. A collection of grief and remembrance to someone lost so young and so suddenly. It was standard that those stationed abroad could not say where they were going, which made his sudden absence that much more shocking.

The first letter

One of those letters had come from Creston. Jim said he was confused; why would someone from Creston have sent his grandparents, in Manilla, a card?

The letter, dated April 4, 1945 and sent from 803 W. Mills St. to Jim’s grandmother. It read, as follows:

“My Dear Mrs. McCracken,

Elizabeth has just called me from Atlantic telling me of the sad news. She has been fearing this for some time. The child could hardly talk over the phone so I am leaving on the 4:30 bus to C. Bluffs this afternoon and will get there about midnight.

I feel so badly for you all and I know I can say nothing that will help. It has been a terrible strain for you I know, and sometimes one wonders why it all has to be.

I would have had Elizabeth come home but thought perhaps it better if she kept busy. She didn’t get to know Jimmie so well except their letters and of course she kept looking forward to his return and she did have a little pin of his that she though a great deal of. Her last letter was written Feb. 11 and at that time it was two weeks since she had heard, but he said he knew she would understand. She never did hear where he was as he said he didn’t think that was his destination. Unfortunately our car is being overhauled or I would have drive up and then we could have gone up to Manilla on Saturday. Mr. Harper just called now to say it wouldn’t be ready for another day but I think I had better go this afternoon.

If you do get near Atlantic I know she would appreciate you stopping to see her and we would like very much to have you visit us in Creston. She had said she would like Lorraine to come when school is out and I’m sure she would still wish that.

Again I want you to know that Donn and I will be thinking of you through all this.

Very Sincerely, Alice Harper."

The Harpers

Alice Harper was born in 1896 and was about the age of younger Jim’s grandparents. Alice was married to Donn, with the two of them having two daughters, Elizabeth in 1922 and Janet in 1928.

Elizabeth had been the first to inform Alice of Jim’s death. After all, Elizabeth had been Jim’s girlfriend. Alice, not wanting her daughter to be too distraught over the tragedy, traveled to Atlantic to visit her grieving daughter, inviting the McCrackens for a visit.

One day, it happened. Although unclear, either the pair of Alice and Elizabeth or just Elizabeth had visited Manilla to see the McCrackens.

With the hindsight of history preserved in these letters, it’s unclear what the extent of Elizabeth’s relationship with Jim was. It was undoubtedly clear they were close, but they were distanced. They kept in contact through letters, and Elizabeth had several objects of affection from Jim, who she called Jimmie, but all that remains are letters.

The second and third letters

Two more letters were kept by the McCrackens. The second came directly from Elizabeth, who thanked the McCrackens for hosting her at a time of grief.

The letter, dated April 9, 1945, reads, as follows:

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. McCracken —

This is just a note to tell you how much I appreciated being with you this week-end. At the time I was at loss as to know what I wanted to do, but I felt as though it might help to be with someone who knew Jimmie and that I could talk to. It was very kind of Lorraine and you to ask me to come. I am only hoping that in some way it has helped you, too.

Our train was on time and Mr. and Mrs. Parmer were at the station to meet us. They drove me to the bus station which was on their way home and Lorraine went with me while I bought my ticket. I had only a short wait before the bus came.

Well I am going to try very hard to keep busy these last six weeks and then maybe the time will go faster. I have some report cards to finish making out tonite.

Now if you are ever near Atlantic or Creston, please be sure and stop as I’d love to see you.

With Love, Elizabeth"

Elizabeth would mail another letter that month in April. The Manilla Times had written an article on Jim being killed in action, and the McCrackens sent Elizabeth a copy of the article.

The letter, written April 26, thanked the McCrackens for the article.

“Dear Mrs. McCracken,

Thank you so much for the paper. I was so glad to get it even tho’ it made my heart ache very much. It is hard to realize we will get no more letters and I miss writing him. It was a lovely write up and such a nice picture and you have lots to be proud of. I hope time will make things easier for you.

Lovingly Yours, Beth"

Elizabeth was one of the attendees of Jim’s funeral held on June 10, 1945, alongside her mother and sister. Elizabeth would pass in 2008, only a few years before the younger Jim started searching through the letters.

The hunt begins

Jim tried to pursue finding a relative of Elizabeth Harper, but was unsuccessful following the death of her sister Janet in 2015. It wouldn’t be until a decade later in 2025 that he would start searching again.

While looking through a scrapbook his grandmother had made of Des Moines Register newpaper clippings featuring Drake football games, he found a photo. It was a photo of Jim sitting on the campus grass with an unknown girl.

Jim had a new mission. Was this girl Elizabeth?

The first step was finding yearbooks. On Jan. 12, 2026, Jim began his search, stopping at the Creston High School office and asking for yearbooks. The oldest they had was 1985. No good.

He then went to the Historical Village museum. Through conversations with Sharon Snodgrass and a perusing of a faculty book, Jim had figured out Elizabeth had graduated in 1940.

Unfortunately, no yearbook for 1940 was found. But, a certain newspaper was. The Creston Arrow had graduate photos for the 1940 graduates, and he found her. A photo of Elizabeth Harper.

Comparing the two photos, Jim couldn’t decide if it was her. He showed his wife Pam. Together, they still weren’t sure.

Mrs. Williams

The next day after his adventure scouring the archives, Jim looked up obituaries of the Harper family. He couldn’t find Elizabeth’s obituary, but he found Donn Harper, her father.

The obituary read, “Surviving in addition to his widow are two daughters, Mrs. Elizabeth H. Williams of Winterset and Mrs. Janet H. Turner of Omaha, Nebraska.”

Winterset? Elizabeth Williams? It was the first Jim had heard of this. But it would explain how he couldn’t find her obituary. He made a search, this time for Winterset, and found it. Bingo!

Elizabeth was survived by two sons; one was Harper Williams of Brooklyn Park, Minnesota. A pretty far drive. The other was Mark Williams of Afton.

Hold on. Mark Williams? Was this the same Mark Williams Jim had just met at the SPFFC? The one he already had a conversation with?

Jim scrambled the next day to the SPFFC and asked the receptionist to send Mark a message. The receptionist called him and then handed the phone to Jim. Jim asked Mark if he remembered meeting Jim. He said yes.

“Is Elizabeth Harper your mother?” Jim asked.

“Yes, she was.” Mark said.

“Are Donn and Alice Harper your grandparents?”

“Yes they were, and they lived two blocks south of the high school on Sycamore Street.”

Jim said he couldn’t believe it. He scheduled a lunch with Mark, and panicked thinking about how he would explain the whole journey.

A lunch, a small world

At the Creston Family Restaurant, Mark and Jim talked about their families which were somehow, after decades, intertwined.

After Jim explained his story, he showed Mark the photo. Uncle Jim and the unknown girl, who could be Mark’s mother. Is it her? Mark looked at the photo and said yes. He was sure it was his mother.

Mark had his own story to tell. Elizabeth had a brother. Bruce Harper graduated from Annapolis and enrolled in the Navy. In 1946, a year after the WWII, Bruce was on a training run off the coast of Florida. He would be killed during that training run in an accident.

Elizabeth had lost the two men she was closest to within two years. Mark thinks his mother never really got over losing the both of them.

Mark would send a copy of Jim’s photo to his cousin, Anya Turner. Anya would contact Jim and sent him a few photos from a photo album Elizabeth had given her. It included more photos from Elizabeth’s time in college.

One small problem. Many photos included Elizabeth and an unknown man together. Jim could confirm, that man wasn’t his uncle. Anya looked at Jim’s photo, with Uncle Jim and a woman Mark and Jim thought was Elizabeth. Anya said it wasn’t her.

A small wrinkle, one that won’t iron out easily.

Over 400,000 members of the United State military were killed during WWII. They were mostly young men who were just beginning their lives, only for it to end.

Those who survived the war returned and raised families of their own. Those who remembered the fallen kept those memories for the rest of their lives.

Either way, what’s left of Uncle Jim are letters, memories, pieces of hearts that still beat. One of those hearts is one of the same name, one who went to the SPFFC and met someone he’d never think was connected to him in such a way.

“It’s a small world,” Jim said.