Gordy Bauer

Eighty-year-old Gordon Bauer says there’s nothing “flowery” about his accomplishments. Volunteering is just what he does. “I enjoy what I’m doing, and I can’t make it any plainer,” he says. “There’s no big sob story.”

A retired Navy diesel engineer, Bauer has focused much of his work on serving those in the military. “I get a personal satisfaction from helping servicemen,” he says. “There wasn’t much of that in World War II. It’s really rewarding to get thanks from people and so forth, but I feel I should do it and I will do it as long as I am able to.”

Bauer is a member of the Memorial Rifle Squad at Fort Snelling National Cemetery, helping carry out the honored last tradition for soldiers—a proper burial. Bauer allows that standing at attention with his rifle for four hours at a stretch can be a “little hard” when the wind chill hits twenty below or it’s ninety-eight degrees and humid. “But it’s the way I wanna go too,” he says. “It’s an honor to do what we’re doing.”

At the Armed Forces Service Center at the Minneapolis–St. Paul International Airport—where snacks and a place to sleep are provided for on-duty soldiers and their families after long flights—Bauer serves as a welcoming committee, which keeps him up until 4:30 a.m. He meets the travelers with bags of goodies, American flags, and hot dogs. One night, though unprepared for the volume, he cared for seventy-six servicepeople. “They slept on floors, on couches; one was sleeping in front of the desk,” he recalls. As the center’s “board chairman for property,” which he insists is “nothing but a glorified repairman,” he “fixes anything that’s broken.”

Then there’s the ten gallons of blood he’s donated. The lunches he has served at the Dorothy Day Center for more than twenty-five years. The grief group he’s hosted for widows and widowers at Immanuel Lutheran Church in St. Paul—he joined following his wife’s lengthy illness and death. His assistance with bingo games and clothing drives at the veterans homes in Minneapolis and Hastings. His various volunteer positions at the VFW and American Legion posts.

Though he doesn’t ascribe to any one philosophy on volunteering, he says, “I greet all people the same way—it doesn’t make a difference who you are.” Sometimes soldiers throw their arms around Bauer, exclaiming how grateful they are for his help. He enjoys that too—the grin on his face gives him away—though he says it’s no big deal.