Madaline’s Closet is a non-profit organization that exists to meet physical and emotional needs of long-term care residents at the Veterans’ Home in Central Maine.

As owner of Veterans Specialized Hauling, I am proud and honored that my grandfather Arthur Tatlock, served in WWII as a 1st Lieutenant in the Marine Corps. My grandfather was a resident at the Veteran’s Home in Central Maine along with my grandmother until their passing in 2014 and 2015.

Our family created this non-profit to honor the legacy of my grandfather and his giving Christian spirit of helping those often forgotten Veterans with simple things like visitation, clothing and personal items.

To give you an idea of my grandfathers giving spirit, here is an article that ran on November 11, 2010 in the Kennebec Journal, Morning Sentinel.
– Ed Crosby

WORLD WAR II:
Line was blurred between friend and foe

FROM ARTHUR TATLOCK
Submitted by his daughter Lori Gagnon.

My Dad my be 90-years-old, but he is still a proud Marine. His mind may not be as sharp as when he was younger, but his love of country has never waned.

Dad isn’t one to tell war stories, but on occasion and if in the right mood, he will share some of the events that occurred in the Pacific during WWII. I’ve heard about foxholes and forward artillery, tragedy and triumph and things in between, but this story is my favorite by far. It displays Dad’s Christian character and compassion, two of his most endearing qualities. I will do my best to tell the story as he would have back in the day.

“”I was a 1st Lieutenant in the Marine Corps out on patrol with a small group of soldiers on Iwo Jima. The air was hot and humid, the kind that could dull the senses, but this was war and we were on high alert, watching, waiting, blood pumping, adrenaline poised to release at the slightest sight or sound. The enemy was out there.”

“”In the distance I saw a cave, and then saw something reflected by the light. Slowly and quietly we approached and when they emerged, we surrounded them. Their dirty uniforms were the only thing to identify them as soldiers, for they were gaunt and emaciated, weakened by war and lack of food. Still, they were the enemy and they were stripped and searched for weapons. Sensing their vulnerability and need, I asked the men to feed them. They protested, lobbying to kill them and be over with it.”

“”To their pleas I responded, “Break out your rations — THAT is an order!” They did so reluctantly, and the men quickly consumed what little food we had. They were brought back to camp as prisoners of war, but for a brief moment the line between friend and foe was blurred. They weren’t the enemy; they were men like me, human and frail.””

arthur tatlock

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