Norman Shorts

Norman Wesely Shorts, 97, of Pocatello, Idaho, passed away peacefully on June 18, 2025, at the Idaho State Veterans Home, leaving behind a legacy of service, resilience, and quiet devotion that spanned nearly a century.

Born feet first on June 11, 1928, in Lima, Ohio, Norman was of Dutch and English descent and lived a life rich in purpose. By age 15, he had already left school and was building tanks and upholstering bus seats at Superior Body Works. His industrious spirit took him, his mother, and sister west to California, where they worked side by side at Lockheed before Norman joined the Merchant Marines in 1945 at the age of 17. Aboard the Joseph A. Holmes Liberty Ship, he crossed oceans and eras—getting seasick beneath the Golden Gate Bridge, passing through the Panama Canal, and glimpsing the Cliffs of Dover through mine-laced waters.

In 1946, he enlisted in the United States Army, beginning a 20-year career that spanned oceans, continents, and the occasional dose of good-natured mischief. While stationed on Wana Du Island during the Korean War, Norman worked harbor patrol, once chilling bottles of beer over the side of a tugboat on a rope—his own makeshift ocean cooler. Years later in Alaska, while serving as Harbor Master during the frigid Cold War years, he and a fellow soldier even pulled a fire drill just to liven up the day. Beneath his formal demeanor was a man who knew how to find levity, even in the coldest corners of the world.

Throughout his service, he rose to the rank of Staff Sergeant and specialized as a watercraft operator—supporting harbor operations and dangerous transport missions in Korea, Okinawa, Japan, Spain, Germany, and Alaska. His record includes recognition for his calm under pressure during a violent Atlantic storm, when he took the helm after a piston sleeve broke mid-crossing—while, of all times, a delegation from the University of Maryland happened to be aboard. He later participated in missions such as hauling repair trains up the James River from Fort Eustis, the air horns of four engines echoing as they moved salvaged remains from a downed turboprop. His service spanned pivotal moments in American history, including deployments during the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Vietnam War. He retired from the Army in 1966. With support from his VA benefits, he purchased a home for $12,500 with his wife—a price tag far removed from anything seen in today’s real estate landscape

With over two decades of service, Norman spent more than 85 months deployed overseas and earned the Cold War Certificate of Recognition from the Secretary of Defense—a formal commendation awarded decades after his retirement, recognizing the quiet courage and perseverance that had long defined his career. Signed by Secretary William J. Perry, it stood as a late but lasting acknowledgment of his steadfast role during one of the most consequential periods of American history.

Norman’s devotion to his country was matched only by his devotion to his family. During his time stationed in Whittier, Alaska, the family lived on the ninth floor of a snowbound apartment, traveling to school through tunnels carved beneath the town’s heavy snowfall. Whether working long hours or navigating the unknown, Norman carried a quiet steadiness that grounded those around him —a strength he quietly hoped to pass on, especially through his granddaughters’ own paths in life.

After retiring from the military, Norman’s path took him across the country, reflecting his quiet adaptability and deep-rooted sense of duty. He lived and worked in places as varied as Camp Stoneman, California; Whittier, Alaska; Newport News, Virginia; and Jackson, Minnesota—where he earned a diploma in auto mechanics from Jackson Technical Institute in 1976. While in Newport News, he also worked in airport maintenance—once braving a snowstorm to retrieve the city’s first-ever snowplow, a memory as enduring as the tracks they left behind. In 1984, he and his beloved Eunice moved to Mountain Home, Idaho—drawn by the nearby Air Force Base and the perfect balance: close enough to visit their grandchildren, but not close enough to babysit. There, Norman served as superintendent of Silver Sage Golf Course.

Another of his memorable acts of kindness came during a hailstorm at a reptile park in South Dakota, where he and other strong men carried one of the park’s great tortoises to shelter, its heavy shell echoing with every drop of hail. It was a moment that captured his quiet heroism and deep respect for all living things. That same quiet resolve showed up years later in more unexpected forms—like the time he helped orchestrate the return of a wayward cat to his granddaughter’s home, proving he could still work behind the scenes when it mattered most.

He found joy in golf, fishing, traveling, watching TV, and was mindful of tradition—always removing his hat indoors out of respect for women. He was a devoted member of Faith Lutheran Church in Mountain Home and a loving husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, brother, and friend.

Norman was preceded in death by his beloved wife, Eunice; daughter, Arlene Stout; and son-in-law, Gerald Mosbrucker. He is survived by his daughter, Sandra Mosbrucker; son, Norman Shorts (Karen); grandchildren Pam Breshears (Devon) and Debbie Lords (Jay); and great-grandchildren Jack and Logan Lords. He is also remembered by his sister, Dorothy Shelburne of Chico, CA; and step-siblings Larry Shorts (Barb) and Connie Allgire (Ron) of Defiance, OH.

While a formal service may be held at a later date, family and friends are warmly invited to visit Norman’s memorial page at Wilks Funeral Home, where memories can be shared, photos uploaded, and candles lit in his honor. Memorial trees, flowers, and sympathy gifts may also be arranged through the site.

Memories and condolences may be shared using the guestbook below.