War and remembrance
A half century ago, Dick Portillo was an 18-year-old Marine with no place to go for Thanksgiving -- until a lieutenant extended an invitation to dinner. Fifty years later, the Chicago hot dog king and military history buff returned the favor
Fifty years ago, a lonely 18-year-old Marine from Chicago was sulking in the barracks at Camp Pendleton, bummed out because it was Thanksgiving and he had nowhere to go.
"I was laying there feeling sorry for myself when the door flew open and this young lieutenant came in and said, 'Get dressed, Portillo, you're coming to my house for Thanksgiving dinner,'" recalled Dick Portillo.
(Courtesy)
Fast-forward a few years to 1963: Portillo was out of the Marines and on his way to becoming a household name, building a restaurant empire that began with a humble hot dog shack in west suburban Villa Park.
The hot dog baron and head of The Portillo Restaurant Group never forgot the lieutenant's kind invitation to have him over for Thanksgiving. Half a century and 45 restaurants later, it was payback time.
Portillo, a voracious traveler and military history buff, had a unique trip planned to the faraway Solomon Islands in the South Pacific.
He and his wife, Sharon, would charter a 165-foot yacht for nearly two weeks and sail to the site of some of the bloodiest World War II battles between the U.S. and Japan. They'd visit the island where a desperate John F. Kennedy swam to shore after a Japanese destroyer sank his PT boat, and they'd meet one of the locals who helped save the future president. A World War II pilot and military historian would be their personal guide as they toured remote jungle villages by day and spent their nights at sea, catered to by a crew of nine.
The trip was scheduled for November. And this time, it was Portillo's turn to do the inviting.
He tracked down retired Col. Bernard Brause at his home in California and asked the former lieutenant and his wife to tag along, free of charge.
Much like Portillo did 50 years earlier, Brause jumped at the chance. The two couples, accompanied by a military historian and a photographer, set sail last month through the hundreds of tiny land masses that make up the Solomon Islands.
"It was the best trip of my life," said Portillo, whose passport is no stranger to stamps. "I've been to Normandy and other places like that, but this is something completely different. It's hard to get to. You need a boat. There's no five-star hotels, no five-star restaurants. A lot of people don't visit these outer islands. That's the beauty of a trip like this."
Located off the east coast of Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands -- especially the island of Guadalcanal -- saw ferocious fighting during the Second World War. Some 1,400 U.S. Marines and more than 20,000 Japanese perished there. Rusted helmets, canons, tank parts, artillery shells and other vestiges of those battles still pepper the tropical landscape.
"This stuff is just out there, laying in the jungle," said Portillo, as he sat in his Oak Brook office, flipping through some of the 1,900 photographs that document his trip.
World War II veteran Bob Reynolds guided Portillo and his small group from one island to the next. They'd come ashore in a dinghy, talk with the island's chief and then set off exploring, sometimes with the help of local schoolchildren. One rainy day -- and there were plenty of those on this trip -- a couple dozen kids eagerly led Portillo through the jungle to show him the Japanese caves, still covered with Marines' bullet holes.
"I loved going to the schools," said Portillo, who lugged along bags of soccer balls, paper and pens for the students. "The kids would sing for us. I've never seen children with so little be so happy."
One afternoon on the yacht, Portillo hosted a luncheon. The guest of honor was a man "between 85 and 90" named Eroni Kumana, who came aboard dressed in a bright orange T-shirt that read, "I Rescued JFK."
Kumana was one of many islanders during the war who served as a scout for the Allies, patrolling the area in dug-out canoes still used by locals today.
In 1943, a Japanese destroyer rammed into Kennedy's U.S. Navy torpedo patrol boat, PT-109. Kennedy and the surviving members of his crew managed to swim to a small island -- now Kennedy Island -- in the thick of enemy territory. Kumana helped find the men and assist in their rescue.
Kumana's family came along for the luncheon on Portillo's boat. One of Kumana's sons showed Portillo a rusted Marine dog tag he'd found years ago.
"He asked if I could find out who it belonged to," Portillo said. "I gave him my word I would."
Retired Col. Brause is going to take the tag to Marine Corps Headquarters early next year in hopes of tracking down the family. Both Brause and Portillo plan to give Kumana's son the answer he's looking for -- in person.
"We're going back in April," Portillo said. "Gonna pick up where we left off."