At Touchmark, we are deeply grateful for the many veterans and their families who call our communities home. Their courage, service, and quiet strength enrich our neighborhoods and remind us daily of the sacrifices that make our freedoms possible. 

This Veterans Day, we are honored to share the story of one of those remarkable individuals: Kenneth “Ken” Cumings, a retired U.S. Navy Lieutenant Commander whose 25-year military career began with a boyhood dream and was defined by moments of extraordinary courage beneath the sea. Ken resides with his wife at Touchmark in the West Hills in Portland, Oregon. 

A Childhood Dream Set in Motion

“I went in when I was 19 and retired when I was 43,” Ken recalls. Ken’s decision to join the Navy traces back to his childhood growing up in Portugal, where his parents were missionaries. 

“When I was 11 years old, we went from our house in Leiria, Portugal, down to Lisbon. It was 1953 and not too long after the war. The Sixth Fleet was in the harbor and we were able to get a tour on a cruiser,” he remembers. “A second-class petty officer toured us around the boat. He let me operate an anti-aircraft gun, just aiming it around, and all kinds of stuff.” 

That experience left a lasting impression on the young boy from Portugal. 

“In Portugal we did not have hamburgers or French fries, or Coca Cola, and he took me to the crew’s mess hall where I had lunch. I had a hamburger and just thought I was in heaven,” Ken laughs. “So I told my dad, ‘Daddy, when I grow up, I’m going to be in the Navy, and I’m going to be a second-class petty officer.’ So I did. I joined the Navy. I went in as a seaman and retired as a commander.” 

A Harrowing Mission 

Ken’s early Navy years were spent in Naval Intelligence and the Naval Security Group, where he trained as a Russian linguist and cryptologic specialist.  

“I learned how to intercept Russian Morse code. I went to language school in Washington D.C., and learned Russian. After the first four weeks of language school, we were not allowed to speak English in class,” he explains. 

That training led to an assignment in Japan, where fate would place him on a submarine patrol that nearly ended his life. 

“After a missed curfew, I ended up at sea on patrol on a diesel submarine,” Ken says with a wry smile. “A diesel submarine has to snorkel to recharge batteries and replenish air supply on board at least once every 24 hours. We were in the Sea of Japan, and I’d just gotten on watch as a radio telephone operator when all of a sudden, on a blue sky, I heard this radar signal.” 

The crew realized instantly that they had been detected by Soviet forces. 

“We called up the CO up in control and said, ‘Sir, we've been detected.’ The command officer didn’t believe us. He said, ‘We’re too far out; they can’t detect us,’ so he kept on snorkeling.” 

By the next morning, the submarine had been found by a Soviet hunter-killer group and was forced deep below the surface—held down for more than 29 hours as the air grew dangerously thin. 

“We were running out of air. It was so bad I lost my sight. I was blind—couldn’t smell, couldn’t hear,” Ken recalls. “Fortunately, around that time, we noticed the Soviet sonar signals were drifting away from us. They’d lost contact. Our commanding officer turned the boat around and we headed out to sea. We only had an hour left on the batteries and a max speed of three knots. He raised the snorkel and lit those engines up and it was like being born again. All of a sudden, I could see, I could see colors, I could smell. It was just exuberating. And the best steak dinner I ever had in my life was that evening, celebrating getting away from the Russians.” 

That near-death experience cemented Ken’s devotion to the Navy and began a distinguished career at sea and in the air. 

A Life of Service and Sacrifice 

During his years in uniform, Ken served aboard several submarines and aircraft, often in classified operations during the Cold War. He was also a qualified air crewman in three different aircraft types, including the EC-121 intelligence-gathering aircraft that was later shot down near North Korea. 

“PR21, which is the side number for that aircraft, was the one I was qualified on,” he says. “So there’s a lot of meaning there for me.” 

For Ken, Veterans Day carries a deep and personal significance. 

“I think about all my buddies who didn’t make it, who died in active duty. I lost my best friend on the U.S.S. Liberty in 1967. He was my best friend, and I’ve never had another one.” 

Ken has visited the grave of his friend, Jim Lipton, at Arlington National Cemetery and honors him and others each year. 

“I wear my medals to church on Veterans Day,” he says quietly. 

Honoring Our Heroes 

Today, Ken calls Touchmark in the West Hills home—a place where his courage and compassion continue to inspire everyone who meets him. His story is one of resilience, humility, and devotion to something greater than oneself. 

Across all Touchmark communities, we are privileged to know and honor veterans like Ken: men and women whose experiences span generations and whose service has shaped our world. Their stories remind us that The {FULL} life we celebrate each day is built on the foundation of their selflessness. 

From all of us at Touchmark, we extend our deepest gratitude to every veteran and their loved ones. We honor your bravery, your service, and the freedom you’ve protected for us all. 

Thank you to Ken Cumings for being willing to share your extraordinary experiences and stories with us.