Ralph Busby blows out candles on the cake for his 98th birthday.
Henry DuPertuis celebrates his 101st birthday with friends at the Mainzer in Merced.
It was 50 years ago during a trip on horseback through the Sierra Nevada when Ralph Busby and Henry DuPertuis first met each other. They’ve been friends ever since.
The two celebrated their December birthdays together with a family and friends lunch at the Mainzer last week and reminisced about their experience in the military in World War II, as well as life in Merced after the war.
Busby turned 98 on Dec. 21, and Henry reached 101 on Dec. 10.
Busby was born in Berkeley and moved to Merced in 1949, the family of his then-wife ran the El Capitan Hotel. You might know him as the “Busby” in Fleutsch and Busby Insurance on 18th Street.
DuPertuis is from outside Laramie, Wyoming in a town so small they had no roads to ride their bikes on. His dad was a carpenter and after the war he studied at Berkeley and became an architect. That’s how he got out here to Merced. He designed much of Merced College, including the Lesher Library. DuPertuis wrote three books, including God and the Gold Pan and Old Homes of Merced. He and his wife Leona built their house north of Bear Creek when the area was mostly undeveloped land. They had four kids.
“At that time it was only walnut orchards and wheat fields,” DuPertuis said. “So you can imagine how much Merced has changed.”
When asked what they did for fun back then, Leona chimed in.
“You golfed a lot!” she said.
“Yeah golf, and we went skiing too,” DePertuis said.
DePertuis was in the 13th Airborne Division in World War II. He initially trained in gliders, but the turbulence made him and some of his buddies sick.
“The gliders were everywhere. I saw one occasion, one was upside down. It came out OK,” he said. “Several of us would get airsick in the first 15 minutes. That was wonderful.”
They were told there was only one way out of glider school: jump school. So he became a paratrooper. The 13th Airborne was transferred to France following the D-Day invasions. They were slated to be dropped along the Rhine River as the allies attempted to cross it to reach Berlin, but they never saw combat.
Busby was drafted, and was aboard a troop train going to Texas a month after he graduated high school.
“I was a kid. I was 19 years old then. That’s prime,” he said.
He never made it to Europe; the war was over while he was still in Ft. Benning, Georgia and he was sent home.
“I got a nickel a mile from Fort Benning, Georgia to Fairfield, California,” he said.
A friend jumped in: “Did that go pretty far then?”
“It didn’t buy a lot of the booze we drank,” he replied.
“I got a train ticket, which cost about 30 bucks from Georgia and the rest of it went for booze,” he said. “We had a floating cocktail party.”
The two get together with a group of friends almost every week, DuPertuis said.
“Every Friday night we try to get together,” he said. “And we’ve developed friendships deeper than we’ve ever had.”
When asked what else he occupies his time with, his response was quick.
“Nothing!” he said.