In the early 1950s, the Pacific Ocean swelled beneath the might of the USS Midway, the largest ship in the world at the time. With over 5,000 crew members on board, the ship felt like a small city. Planes soared overhead, boots clanged on the metal decks, and young sailors were finding their way into adulthood. Somewhere in that great sea of sailors was a young man from Sewanee, Tennessee, named Dwight Edward Sholey Jr., bright-eyed and ready to see the world.
He completed his basic training in Millington, Tennessee, then boarded a train headed west toward San Diego. It was there that his naval journey officially began.
Though he was only 17 when he enlisted — fibbing just a bit about his age — Sholey wasn’t running from anything. He was running toward something. Korea was still a headline in the papers, and he wanted to serve, grow, and explore.
His son, William, shared that Dwight left school to join the Navy and didn’t earn his GED diploma until he was 73.
“They didn’t retire until they were about 75,” William reflected. “They just kept going.”
Aboard the Midway, Dwight worked as an aviation mechanic, keeping the ship’s birds in the air and the mission moving forward. When the ship crossed the equator and docked in the Philippines — as an age-old rite of passage for sailors — he commemorated the moment with a tattoo: a shark, a bird, and his Navy number etched into his arm. These tattoos are permanent emblems of identity, belonging, and pride for the sailors.
Though the Korean War ended shortly after he joined, Dwight’s tour took him to Japan, the Mediterranean, and South Africa. The Midway was too large for the Panama Canal, so they looped around the Horn of Africa.
“We went all the way around the world,” he said proudly.
During those four years, he soaked in every detail. Later, he taught his sons the value of water on a ship — “Boys, get in, soak yourself, turn it off, and get out” — though, as William admitted, they didn’t quite master the quick Navy shower.
By 1957, just six months before being released from service in Milton, Florida, Dwight and his wife, Vickie Hawkins Sholey, welcomed their first son, Mark. They had been sweethearts since grade school, wrapped up in a small-town love that never let go.
After his time in uniform, they settled back in Sewanee and built a life centered around hard work, community, and enduring love. Together, they raised three boys: Mark, William, and Jeffrey.
While Dwight hung up his uniform, the Navy never left him. He proudly wears his veteran hat and lines his room with flags.
“He had a short time there, but he was always proud of it,” said William. “He constantly tells people that he’s proud to be a veteran.”
Back home, Dwight became a mechanic again, this time in civilian coveralls. He worked at the Hat Corporation in Winchester, eventually becoming a union representative. Later, he opened Sewanee Auto Repair, a little garage that became a town staple for 33 years.
After retiring, he handed over the keys, and the new owner still keeps the lights on today, upholding Dwight’s legacy and honoring the man who fixed a little more than cars. He fixed what he could in the world around him.
At 89, now in a Winchester nursing facility, Dwight’s memory has softened in some places and sharpened in others. The Navy stories come easily, along with the laughter, the salt air, and the noise of jet engines. The tattoos, though faded, still speak for him — signs of a life lived wide and well.
Dwight may have started his journey as a teenage boy looking for more than Sewanee could offer, but he returned with stories, honor, and courage that have rooted his family for generations. His story and his sons’ devotion to keeping it alive remind us that the past is never too far away. GN
