MOBILE, Alabama — A chance find in a Mississippi pawn shop has led a Mobile attorney on an unexpected mission: returning a decorated Korean War veteran’s long-lost Naval officer’s sword more than 40 years after it was stolen. The story began as an ordinary drive home from work and ended with a phone call that left an 85-year-old pilot in Pennsylvania speechless, a family heirloom headed back to its rightful owner, and a courtroom lawyer-turned-detective at the center of it all.
Attorney Chip Herrington said he spotted the sword while driving home from a case in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, when he stopped at a pawn shop along the route. Among the display cases he immediately recognized the piece as a Naval officer’s sword rather than the Civil War relic the shop had listed. The mislabeling, collectors say, is common on the Gulf Coast, where military artifacts change hands frequently and shop owners sometimes guess at an item’s origin based on its age alone.
A self-described history enthusiast, Herrington talked the shop down from $100 to $40 and took it home. Only after he had the sword in his own hands did he notice something the shop had missed entirely: a name engraved on the blade. The discovery turned a modest collectible purchase into a genuine mystery, and Herrington said he could not put the research aside until he learned who the blade belonged to.
Naval officer’s swords carry identifying details that make them far easier to trace than the average secondhand item. Engravings of an owner’s name, etched blades, ornate hilts and manufacturer markings all give researchers threads to pull, and serious collectors routinely photograph such markings before reselling anything with military provenance. Herrington, whose interest in history has made him a familiar presence at preservation events around the Gulf Coast, knew exactly which details to record and where to look them up.
What he found surprised him. The name on the blade did not belong to a long-dead officer from a forgotten conflict, but to a living veteran whose service record could still be verified through public military history sources. That realization raised the stakes considerably: this was not merely an antique to be displayed on a shelf, but property with a rightful owner who might still be able to hold it again.
Tracking Down the Owner
A bit of internet research led Herrington to Roy M. Johnsen, a decorated Navy pilot of the same name who flew missions during the Korean War and now lives in Pennsylvania at age 85. Herrington tracked down a phone number and called Johnsen directly, asking whether he was missing a sword. What followed was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“He didn’t say anything for a long time,” Herrington recalled, before Johnsen revealed that the sword had been stolen from him more than four decades earlier. For a veteran in his mid-80s, the sudden reappearance of an object taken from him half a lifetime ago carried a weight that neither man had anticipated. Herrington said the moment on the phone made the entire detour worthwhile.
Herrington offered to return the sword as a gesture of thanks for Johnsen’s military service, declining any talk of repayment or reward. The two ended up speaking for roughly 45 minutes during that first call, trading stories across a generational and geographic divide. Herrington described the restored Douglas A-1 Skyraider — the same aircraft Johnsen flew during the war — now on display at the USS Alabama Battleship Memorial Park in Mobile, a detail that connected the veteran’s wartime past to the city where his sword resurfaced.
The A-1 Skyraider holds a storied place in Naval aviation history. The single-engine attack aircraft served with distinction through Korea and Vietnam, prized for its ability to carry heavy ordnance and remain on station for hours, protecting troops and rescuing downed pilots. At the Battleship Memorial Park, the restored example sits among aircraft, tanks and the storied battleship USS Alabama itself, which draws visitors from across the country to the Mobile Bay shoreline each year. For a pilot who once flew the type in combat, seeing one preserved close to home is a rare experience.
From Pawn Shop to National Attention
After Herrington shared the story on social media and tagged Johnsen, the post drew wider attention than either man expected. Inquiries arrived from national media outlets, and comments poured in from veterans, collectors and strangers moved by the idea that a piece of a warrior’s history could survive four decades of detours and find its way home. Herrington said the response confirmed what he had come to believe while researching the blade: that military service items carry meaning far beyond their market value.
Collectors and military historians note that officer’s swords are among the most personal artifacts a service member owns, often presented at commissioning or graduation and carried through a career. When such items are stolen, they frequently surface years later in pawn shops, estate sales and online marketplaces, where records of ownership have long since vanished. That makes reunions like this one uncommon, and it explains why Herrington’s casual stop at a Mississippi shop resonated with so many people.
Herrington said he now hopes to fly Johnsen down to Mobile so the two can meet in person and formally return the sword. A visit would give the veteran a chance to see the Battleship Memorial Park in person, stand beneath the same type of aircraft he flew over Korea, and reclaim a symbol of his service in the city where it unexpectedly resurfaced. Herrington has said he is working out the logistics and hopes the reunion can happen soon.
The proposed reunion has already drawn interest from veterans’ organizations around Mobile and Baldwin County, which have long worked to bring aging service members to the park for commemorations. Community members who followed the story online have offered to help with travel arrangements, and local history groups have noted that the sword’s return would make for a fitting addition to the region’s collection of Korean War remembrances. Whatever form the visit takes, both men have said the friendship formed over the phone matters as much as the object at the center of it.
A Debt to a Generation
The Korean War, often called the Forgotten War, claimed the lives of more than 36,000 American service members between 1950 and 1953, and the pilots who flew over the peninsula operated some of the earliest jet-age aircraft while others, like Johnsen, flew propeller-driven attack planes in support of ground troops. The veterans of that conflict are now in their late 80s and 90s, and each year fewer remain to tell their stories firsthand. That reality has sharpened efforts by communities like Mobile to honor them while the opportunity still exists.
For Herrington, a lawyer who spends his days handling cases in the same courthouses along Government Street and Dauphin Street that have anchored Mobile’s legal district for generations, the episode was a departure from ordinary practice. He has said the search taught him more about Naval history than he expected, and the experience has encouraged other Gulf Coast residents to look more closely at the military artifacts they encounter at estate sales and shops across the region.
Herrington’s find has also prompted a quiet conversation among Gulf Coast pawn shops and collectors about verifying military provenance before items change hands. Shops that deal in war memorabilia increasingly ask sellers for documentation, and some now check engraved names against service records before pricing a piece. No one involved in this case suggested any wrongdoing by the Mississippi shop, which sold the sword in good faith after misreading its origin — but the episode shows how easily history can slip through a display case unnoticed until someone takes a closer look.
“Words cannot describe the satisfaction I received from reuniting this true American hero with his long-lost but well-earned symbol of courage and honor,” Herrington wrote, capturing the sentiment behind an unlikely reunion sparked by a routine drive home from work. The sword that sat unremarked in a pawn shop case for who knows how long is now destined for the hands of the man who carried it, more than 40 years after it vanished — a small piece of justice delivered by a driver who simply knew what he was looking at.
Residents who believe they have encountered stolen military heirlooms are encouraged to document the item and contact local law enforcement, since stolen property claims can be difficult to prove years after the fact. In this case, no legal dispute proved necessary: the shop sold the sword to a buyer who happened to be looking for exactly what it was, and the rest was history. The planned reunion between Herrington and Johnsen in Mobile stands as a reminder that the region’s deep military heritage is still alive in the memories of those who served — and sometimes in the objects they carried with them.