Lewis County Veteran SP4 Douglas Applegate

Written by Brenda S. Bear (brendasbear@gmail.com). Please do not copy or share my writing without my permission. Thank you for reading my stories.

Lewis County Veteran, Douglas E. Applegate’s story doesn’t begin with medals or fanfare, it begins on a Greyhound bus leaving downtown Vanceburg in 1955. A recent college graduate with a Business Degree and no job prospects, he made the decision to enlist in the U.S. Army rather than wait to be drafted. That decision, he said, changed everything.

“I remember boarding that bus like it was yesterday,” he recalled. “Two of us left that day, me and Don Edington. I didn’t know Don then, but we stepped onto that bus as strangers and came back as lifelong friends. Don turned out to be one of the best friends I ever had.”

As Mr. Applegate shared his story, he grew emotional when he remembered telling his dad he was joining the Army. He didn’t offer a long speech, just a simple piece of advice: “Whatever they ask you to do, do it the best you can.” He repeated that line several times during our conversation. You could tell it had become more than advice; it was a guiding principle.

Mr. Applegate’s Army experience was a little different from most. Having already earned a degree, he stood out. But standing out didn’t mean he got off easy. “The Army didn’t test you with paper as much as they did with your actions,” he explained. One of the first things they asked was, “Can anyone type?” Mr. Applegate could, thanks to his business training. They tested his skills in a cold, empty room. “At the time, I didn’t think much of it,” he said. “But that test came back around in a big way.”

His first station was Fort Knox, where they tested the men in less conventional ways. “They had us pull grass, one blade at a time,” Mr. Applegate said, laughing softly. “They wanted to see if you’d follow orders or complain. A lot of guys got themselves in trouble trying to shortcut or talk back. I just kept pulling grass.”

Later, he was sent to Fort Bliss, Texas, what he called “an evil place.” He and three other men were crammed into a 6x8 hut, also used to house prisoners of war. The floors were wooden slats so rough and thin you could see through them. Every morning, he was ordered to mop the floor with just a bucket of water. “I never complained,” he said. “They were always watching. They wanted to know if you could take orders.”

Eventually, Mr. Applegate was sent to Fort Stewart, Georgia. The men were gathered to hear where they’d be shipped next. Many were headed for Korea. When the sergeant read off Mr. Applegate’s name, “It scared me to death,” he admitted. But instead of the front lines, he was asked again about his typing skills. That test in the cold room had found its way back to him. He was assigned to Battalion Headquarters as the personal secretary to a sergeant.

He finished his service as the bookkeeper at the Officers’ Club. The Army offered him a promotion and a chance to reenlist, but he declined. “I was ready to come home,” he said.

Just four days after returning to Vanceburg, Mr. Applegate heard that Lewis County High School needed a business teacher. He took the job, and stayed in the school system for over 53 years. He served as a teacher, assistant principal, principal, and, even after retirement, drove a school bus. “The Army made me a person,” he said. “It gave me ideas that were right. That experience shaped everything I became after.”

Mr. Applegate believes military service should be required for everyone. “It teaches you discipline, humility, and how to do things well, even if you don’t want to.”

A Teacher Shaped by Teachers

Mr. Applegate didn’t just teach, he inspired. And he never forgot the teachers who shaped him. One of the most impactful was Teddy Applegate. “He told me two things,” Mr. Applegate said. “First, get control of your classroom. Second, put the fodder down where the calves can eat it. That stuck with me.”

Another unforgettable figure was Miss Carrie Goldenberg, an English teacher. “I dreaded her class,” he confessed with a smile. “Especially when she’d assign book reports. She had this way of pointing that finger, and you knew, you were next.” But Miss Goldenberg, he said, pushed him in all the right ways. “If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have amounted to a hill of beans. She made me stand up in front of the class. That moment is what steered me toward becoming a teacher.”

Years later, when Mr. Applegate was a principal, he arranged a graduation ceremony but chose to sit quietly in the back, while his teachers gave out the diplomas. Carrie Goldenberg was in the audience, long since retired. The next day, she called him and told him to come to her house. “She looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘Don’t you ever do that again.’ She told me, ‘You belong on that stage. You hand out those diplomas and do your duty.’ And from that day on, I did just that.”

A Life of Service

Mr. Applegate was married for 63 years and raised four children, Kendall, Steve, Mike and Holly, along with raising a granddaughter, Amanda. His life, whether in the Army, the classroom, or the community was marked by quiet strength, humility, and service. Through it all, he carried the lessons of his youth and his time in uniform: Do your duty. Don’t complain. Show up and do your best. Simple lessons. Lifelong impact.

Written by Brenda S. Bear (brendasbear@gmail.com)