I once asked World War II veteran Alvin Josephy about Tom Brokow’s book “The Greatest Generation.”

“Well,” he said, “the guys who wrote the Constitution weren’t bad.”

Alvin was born in 1915 and entered the Big War as a combat correspondent when he was almost 30; for him, and for many, it was the signature event in their lives. A couple of years ago we celebrated vets of that war and the women who stayed home, ran businesses and farms, welded in shipyards and waited for sons, brothers, friends and husbands, with an exhibit at the Josephy Center. Alvin had passed on, but we had a photo of him receiving the Bronze Star and a recording he made on the invasion of Guam. Van Vanblaricom came with medals and memorabilia from the Marines, Biden Tippett with a ship’s log and Agnes Roberts with stories and pictures of husband Ivan and of Enterprise during the War. Barney Locke brought in a uniform and flag that his father, Gardner, had brought back from the Pacific, and Dan Deboie a journal of his postings in the Pacific.

There is no need to argue about “greatest” to say that the men and women who fought, died, guided, supported and pulled us through that awful confrontation rose to the occasion and shut down some of the most heinous actions and actors in human history. And here my mind goes to old friend Jack McClaran, who as a 19-year-old tanker liberated the Nazi concentration camp at Buchenwald. Fortunately for the 100-plus who gathered at the Oddfellows Hall in Enterprise one night, he told that story, as fresh in his mind 60-odd years later as it was when he lived it. He did so in part because his friend Alvin convinced him that telling it to new generations of Americans, too young to have been there, some with parents or grandparents still too traumatized by it to talk, deserved the truth. Jack’s descriptions of camp inmates and the signs of their terrible deaths remain vivid in my mind.

It’s been 10 years since Alvin left us, a couple since Gardner Locke, Jack McClaran and Harold Klages died. In recent months we lost Dan Deboie and Malcolm Dawson. As I recall, Malcolm served as a flying instructor during the war, but it is not war service that strikes me now; it is the values and the gifts that this generation left us — and that I sometimes fear we are squandering.

Looking at a picture of a bunch of vets and their families in Hollywood after the war, the daughter of a Marine Corps friend of Alvin’s told me that they “worked hard and partied hard. They had beat the emperor of Japan and the fuhrer in Germany, and they were convinced they could make America better.”

After the war, vets, courtesy of the GI Bill, and the women of their generation created a new middle class. They built highways, suburbs, schools and colleges and brought the country to a position of world power. African American vets began pushing back at Jim Crow laws. Women, who had stepped up to work in factories and fly bombers to Europe during the war, built the League of Women’s Voters and set the stage for the women’s movement. Some in that generation took on national leadership roles, most notably former general Ike Eisenhower as president. And our own Alvin Josephy became a national leader in the fight for recognition and rights for American Indians.

Most importantly, the men and women of this generation built communities. When I moved to Wallowa County, Dan Deboie loaned me tools from his hardware store rather than sell them to me so I could keep my Volkswagen going and house warm. He, Kirk Hays, Harold Klages, Clyde Hayes and others kept that old motor and rope tow going and guided me and dozens more on our first runs down the ski hill. They supported the hospital, Masons, rodeo and 4-H groups, too.

Malcolm was the chair of the planning commission when I arrived (some might forget that land-use planning was built by Oregon farmers and ranchers intent on keeping agriculture vital). He led the effort that gave us a translator and television, sang in the choir, served on boards and commissions and for a time as mayor of Joseph. They were a special crew.

My fear is that this generation of builders gave way to my bunch of World War II kids and Baby Boomers who, in pursuit of our own comforts and the best deals for our children, have created a world marked by indulgence. The season of thanks and giving is a good time to remember them — and their greatest gifts.

Columnist Rich Wandschneider lives in Joseph.