Service that sparked a lifelong passion for WWII Veteran

A century-long journey shaped by service, resilience and an enduring love of the sea

At 101, Navy WWII Veteran Levern Owens still finds his mind wandering back to the vast expanse of the ocean, the islands of the South Pacific, and the time he spent feeding both fellow sailors and his local community.

While a recent hospital stay has left his voice a little weak, his memory remains sharp as he recalls naval warships, enemy submarines, and a life that has beautifully cascaded across the twentieth century and into present day.

Born in June 1924, in the small farming community of Latta, South Carolina, Owens grew up in a sharecropping family during the height of the Great Depression. Survival meant work and all hands on deck for him and his extended family.

“I grew up on a farm,” recalled Owens. “Didn’t get much time to go to school because I was working on the farm.”

In the rural, Jim Crow-era South, opportunities for young African American men were scarce. For Owens, naval service wasn’t just a duty; it was a way forward and a possibility for a brighter future.

Owens overcame the odds, managing to complete his sophomore year of high school before enlisting in the Navy while still a teenager.

In total, Owens dedicated nearly 27 years of his life to defending the country across multiple branches:

• Navy: Active duty from September 1943 to May 1946
• Navy Reserve: Served from 1946 until 1951
• North Carolina Army National Guard: Served from 1965 until 1984

Navigating segregation and the Pacific theater

When Owens trained in Virginia during World War II, he did so in an all-African American unit.

The military was strictly segregated, and African American sailors were almost exclusively relegated to labor-intensive, service-related roles.

“I went in as a petty officer first class, and I was first class until I came out,” Owens said, noting how rare advancement was for African American service members. “You couldn’t get promoted.”

Eventually, Owens transitioned from unloading cargo to working the galley, a pivot that would define the rest of his life.

“I started cooking. And I cooked the rest of the time I was over there,” he said.

His assignments took him straight into the Pacific theater. After staging in California, he boarded a ship bound for the South Pacific, where Allied forces were locked in a brutal, island-hopping campaign against Japanese forces.

Shadows of war and narrow escapes

Life at sea was a constant game of cat-and-mouse. Owens remembers the tension of navigating waters patrolled by Axis elements.

“We had to turn around a lot because submarines started chasing us,” he recalled.

His unit moved through strategic locations near Papua New Guinea, including Manus Island and Bougainville. Owens and his fellow sailors would arrive just after the heavy fighting ended to establish friendly force positions.

“When we went out and came in off the ship, the Marines went in first,” he explained. “After they went, we had to go in and secure it.”

Cleanup operations were hazardous and grim.

Japanese soldiers frequently hid out in underground fortifications long after the main battle was over. “They were in those bunkers,” Owens said. “We just filled the opening up so they couldn’t come out.”

Two moments from the war remain burned into his memory:

• In August 1945, Owens witnessed history from a distance: the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima. “We saw it go. You couldn’t hear the sound, but you could see the cloud that came from it.”
• On another occasion, Owens narrowly cheated death. Shortly after his crew finished unloading an ammunition ship and set foot ashore, the vessel suddenly exploded. “As we got on the island, the ship blew.” Because he had already disembarked, Owens walked away unharmed.

Yet, it wasn’t all peril. Owens recalls the camaraderie that kept he and his fellow sailors sane, often found in the downtime playing baseball and basketball to catch a fleeting glimpse of home life.

75 years of curating flavor

When the war ended, Owens took his culinary skills to the civilian world, building a legendary 75-year career in hospitality. He spent years in Atlantic City, New Jersey, working as a waiter and chef for summer tourists and cooking for schools in the winter.

Eventually, he settled in Lexington, North Carolina, becoming a fixture at local country clubs, churches, weddings and diners. For Owens, cooking wasn’t just a job; it was his identity.

“Anything that came along, if I could do it, I did [laughs],” Owens said.

Retirement didn’t come easily to a man defined by hard work. “He retired, I think, for about six months and went back to work,” his daughter Toria Owens said. “He tried like three times in total to retire before he actually sat down.”

Owens finally hung up his apron at the age of 91 after a long run at a local business in Lexington, where he became a beloved industry icon.

Today, Owens is surrounded by a massive, loving family that spans five children, alongside numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

For Toria, his daughter who now helps care for him, living with a centenarian Veteran like her dad is a daily gift.

“When he does talk to me, I get to learn about parts of history from an actual person who went through these things,” she said. “It’s not something I’m just reading in a book. I’m proud to call him my daddy. I’m proud that he did what he did back then so that most of us are safe.”

Though health issues have slowed him down, Owens still loves the simple pleasures: sitting outside looking at flowers, taking car rides, and watching classic Westerns. And his daughter notes that his legendary wit hasn’t faded one bit.

Last week, Owens and family celebrated his birthday.

“He doesn’t act like he’s 102,” Toria said, smiling. “His body may slow down some, but his mind still goes. Give him another couple of days, and he’ll be back talking smack with us and trying to tell us how to cook.”

This article was originally published on the Salisbury VA Health Care System site and has been edited for style and clarity.