You would be hard-pressed to think he would ever miss a meal. After all, Arno — a resident at Oakmont Parkway — did so much for his country during World War II. And that included getting by on some pretty skimpy rations over extended periods of time. But that wasn’t the hardest part of his tour of duty in Europe.

Arno spent 3-½ years with the Army’s famed 101st Airborne Division. His mission was not only a remarkable one, but a dangerous one.

“We used hang gliders,” he said. “That’s right, it was something else.”

Sneaking in under the cover of silence — the enemy can hear airplanes going over, but the stealth-like nature of the gliders is what made them so effective — Arno was the gunner as part of a 12-man crew.

Sneaking in on gliders to battle the Germans

As if not wanting to be target practice for the Germans wasn’t stressful enough, Arno explained what made the gliders so tenuous.

“The glider was a piece of plywood, that’s all it is,” he said. “It was really scary. We had to find a farmer’s field to land in, and once we landed there, we stayed there. There’s no way of pulling the gliders out of a field.”

Training for the hang gliders wasn’t easy; it took Arno and his fellow soldiers a year before they were ready to enter World War II — through the beaches at Normandy. Then, it was off to Holland.

“Holland, with no hot food for three months,” he said. “That’s right. But you see, we were young. But we got back a week. Ever hear of Bastogne? After a couple of weeks, they put us in wide-open trucks and rushed us to Bastogne. Got there and dug a foxhole just deep enough to get your body in there. The next day, the foxholes froze, so they weren’t able to drop anything to us. So we had little packages of food. And that’s what we did, one package was all we could have, each day for seven days. We were starving, that’s for sure.”

Bastgone — site of the game-changing “Battle of the Bulge” — helped set the tone for the remainder of the Allied effort in Europe. Arno also had one more noteworthy assignment in World War II, getting set to “The Berghof,” which was Hitler’s home in the Bavarian Alps. It was his last stop before being sent home — where he could eat well again.

There’s no place like home

“Oh, man, regular food,” he said with a smile. “I wasn’t craving anything in particular there, just decent food back here. That’s when you realize how good it is.”

Born and raised in Detroit (where he attended Southeastern High School), Arno returned home to marry his girlfriend within three months. They were married for 38 years and and two children, living for many years in St. Clair Shores.

For 30 years, Arno worked as an upholsterer for JL Hudson (“then Art Van put us out of business,” he said) before spending seven more years working with TVs and radios for Hudson.

His advice for enjoying life? Well, even after being a part of several major World War II battles — and doing so on a pretty empty stomach — his words are simple.

“Just enjoy every day,” he said. “That’s all you have to try to do.”

On some Saturdays and Sundays, finding a priest to administer Holy Communion during church services isn’t always easy.

Rosella decided there was something she could do about that.

“We were getting Communion occasionally, and sometimes they couldn’t come,” said Rosella, 96, of Oakmont Parkway. “I just got to thinking, maybe if I became a Eucharistic Minister, we wouldn’t have that trouble.”

As a Eucharistic Minister, Rosella is able to provide Communion to those who desire it. She also leads prayers and readings during weekend services.

Another resident, Russ, had been serving the role of Eucharistic Minister for a while. But health issues often prevented him from being able to do that. Also, a priest is not always available each weekend.

A history of helping in the church

Actually, this was something Rosella previously considered. After raising her family of six children in Chicago, she and her husband moved to Arkansas for their retirement. It was during that time she served as a lectern and did other church-related duties.

“They wanted me to become a Eucharistic Minister, but I had so much to do already, I didn’t,” she said. “I was sorry I hadn’t.”

Barb Blash, activities director at Parkway, tried to convince Rosella this would be a good time to explore that.

“I asked her, ‘why don’t you do it’? And what were those famous words, ‘I’m too old’ and this and that. You’re never too old,” Barb said.

So Rosella met with Fr. Brian Cokonougher, the pastor at nearby St. Thecla’s in Clinton Twp., to discuss the steps involved with becoming a Eucharistic Minister. Fr. Brian usually comes at least once a month for Mass; he spent time preparing Rosella for it.

Getting the process underway

“Down in Arkansas, you had to go to a class,” she said. “Here, I talked to him quite a long time, and he agreed that I was devout enough.”

“She was well-informed and was able to tell how much she had done in the church already,” Barb said. A short time later, Rosella was officially a Eucharistic Minister.

“It’s really nice here. They have a regular service they’ve made, just for Communion. We set up the altar in the prayer room,” Rosella said. “Then I also put copies of our program in the pews, and we follow along. It runs about a half hour.”

The amount of attendees varies, and is usually larger when a priest celebrates the Eucharist. When it’s just Rosella, she handles various aspects of a worship service.

“It makes me pretty nervous,” she said. “But they were all very nice, and I gave them a little talk beforehand.”

She is new to Michigan, living in Grosse Pointe Park near two of her sons before moving to Parkway. Being active as a Eucharistic Minister and finding other things to do – she loves an adult coloring program and estimates having 300 colored pencils of her own – aligns with Rosella’s personality.

“Just sitting gets to me and I like to be busy,” she said. “You know, if you have six kids, you’re not going to be sitting around and you’ll be used to being busy. I still do my own work, my cleaning and my ironing. That’s why I’m not in mischief anymore.”

Talk to Lucille, the longest-tenured resident at Oakmont Parkway, and there’s a common theme.

“God has blessed me,” she said.

When the time for retirement was reached for Lucille and her husband, John, they were fortunate to do exactly what they wanted: They retired to Houghton Lake for 23 years.

“He liked to hunt and he liked to fish. We even had pheasants and wild turkeys he liked to hunt,” she said. “We had a pontoon boat, which was a pleasure. You could sit down and enjoy it or you could walk around on the boat. We also had friends from down here up in Houghton Lake, so it was very pleasant for us.”

Aside from enjoying the benefits of living in the outdoor playground of northern Michigan, they were active with their church and volunteered with St. Vincent DePaul.

Asking permission to go to the movies

How did Lucille meet John? It was when they were much younger.

“I met him on the street corner!” she joked. “Actually, my husband used to get furious at me when I said that, but I met him at my girlfriend’s house. I was 15 and she lived on the corner. That’s where it came from.

“But we took to each other the first day. I was 15, he was 19. He asked me to go to the movies with him, but I had to check with my mother. She said as long as he’s a nice young man, the age doesn’t matter.”

Making a favorable impression was important then; Lucille believes it’s still important today, too, just as it was to her mother.

“When she met him, she liked him, because he was clean-cut, clean shoes, no blue jeans, slacks and a nice shirt,” Lucille said. “He looked presentable. And, he was gorgeous.”

The start of a family

A year later, they were engaged. John went into the service, joining the Air Force. She missed John, first visiting him when he was stationed at Fort Custer in Battle Creek. Later, when he was sent to Biloxi, Miss., Lucille’s mother — obviously also enamored with John — accompanied her for a week-long visit to see him.

Married at the age of 17, her love for John never waned. She visited him in Boise, Idaho, then followed him to Fresno, Calif., where he was stationed before heading to Italy. It wasn’t long after that the young couple discovered they were pregnant.

But before shipping off, Lucille made sure to have John write his family and tell them they were expecting.

“I didn’t want them to think he left, and then I got pregnant,” she said. “I wanted them to know he knew.”

John’s plans were to be a pilot, but he was in a car accident before he left. That eventually ended his plans to fly for the Air Force. Lucille saw that as a good alternative to the dangers of World War II combat.

“It could have been very scary,” she said. “But actually, we were blessed, because he would fix the planes and out he would go. He came home safely.”

Although John was Polish and Lucy was a mix of French and German, she learned to make all of the Polish classics in the kitchen — pierogis, homemade kielbasa, even kruschiki (a dessert delicacy).

Lucille and John’s marriage produced five children, five grandchildren, 13 great grandchildren and several grandsons-in-law. After 66 years of marriage — “not long enough,” she said — John passed away.

She is currently on kidney dialysis, which makes her tired sometimes, but isn’t enough to deter her.

“It takes up my time, but the dialysis is working, though. That’s what I mean, how God is blessing me,” she said. “I’m a happy person. And I like the people here, they are all very nice. That really helps.”