At sunrise the next morning, the North Carolina skies had cleared and the sun shone brightly. Ruhl admits to a certain conviction they would be rescued. Yet the indelible memories of men floating in a debris field can still stir strong emotions, he says.

There were also other emotions amongst the crew. As they struggled to share their makeshift inflatable life raft in the waters off the North Carolina coast, they agreed to not drink the cartons of milk in the rations kit and to save the water in jugs lashed to the raft. But as the men dozed, one young man helped himself to a long swig of water. When a large waved tossed the jug out of his hands and out to sea, that made a bad situation somewhat worse, says Ruhl who admits to some lingering disgust about the incident.

A Naval plane passed overhead and the men waved. But as the sun set two more times, the men became a bit desperate, relying on Ruhl to recite the Lord’s Prayer to restore their hope. He also recalls seeing sharks circling for the first time, and considered how lucky he and 18 others had been for three days to only encounter  a few jellyfish and Portuguese man-of –wars.

“I don’t recall what we talked about at sea, but I do know the prayers helped,” he says. “I’d have to say, looking back, there was a great feeling of divine intervention and answering of prayers.”

Meanwhile, some 1,000 miles away back in Pennsylvania, Ruhl’s parents were at a dinner party when they heard the celebrity radio commentator Gabriel Heator announce, “Bad news., Two Coast Guard  ships have sank. There are only few survivors.” Though gut wrenching news, Ruhl’s dad remained optimistic, announcing his son was strong swimmer and would be one of the survivors.

On day three, a naval pilot made the lucky pass overhead. A photo taken within mere hours of the rescue shows Ruhl sitting on a wing of the Naval airplane flown by Joe Webber, whose name Ruhl recalls with little effort. Fingering a crew manifest, Ruhl still brightens up when speaking his Webber's name. Awaiting transport by vessel back to shore, Ruhl looks a little worn in the photo.   

One year later, he finished his military obligation and left the Coast Guard to pursue a college education back in Pennsylvania. Using his GI Bill, he also attained a master’s degree at Bucknell University, later becoming a high-school educator in social studies. Later, he worked as a guidance counselor, principal and superintendent.  His unique perspective on World War II, likely gave him an edge in helping interpret the role of history for students.

Even today, Ruhl enjoys being interviewed by novelists and despite the late hour, unfurls a chart depicting exactly where the Jackson sunk to a watery grave. “I learned to love the Coast Guard," said Ruhl who though retired since 1979, unfailingly represents the Coast Guard by marching in the annual Lewisburg Fourth of July parade which attracts attendees from beyond the state’s borders.