United We Stand

I'm proud to be an American.

Just like Lee Greenwood.

I believe in life.

Liberty.

And the pursuit of happiness.

All three.

I love our country.

I relish our freedom.

And I support our President.

What a concept.

It doesn't matter who he is.

Or someday, who she is.

I think that many of us take for granted what we have here.

I know I do.

Today is Veterans Day.

A day to think about sacrifice.

For many, that sacrifice is the bank or post office being closed.

For others, the sacrifice is a lot more significant.

This is a day to honor the brave men and women who have fought for this country.

To celebrate the life.

And in many cases, the death.

Of the people who were willing to give up everything for the good of this land.

I wasn't one of those people.

I never enlisted.

Never really considered it.

I don't think that makes me wrong.

I don't think that makes me right.

But it was not for me.

My dad didn't really have a choice.

He was part of the Navy during WWII.

Stationed in Japan.

We never really talked much about it.

I wish we would've.

When I was really young, I do remember asking him what rank he was.

He told me Admiral.

I never questioned him.

Years later, I finally figured out that he was lying to me.

He did tell me that he wanted to be a fighter pilot.

But his eyesight stopped that from happening.

When he died a few years ago, I went rummaging through his old boxes.

And I found this letter.

A letter he wrote to his mom.

From Japan.

During the war.

It didn't really say much.

Other than hi.

How are you?

And say hello to Uncle Morris.

But in 1940 something, I'm sure that letter was worth a million bucks.

Thankfully these days, there are much better ways to communicate.

Like Skype.

This morning at my kids' school there was a Veterans Day assembly.

And at that assembly, the principal of the school brought his son.

From Afghanistan.

On Skype.

The picture wasn't great.

The sound wasn't great.

But the fact that there was a picture.

And sound.

At all.

Is truly unbelievable.

There must've been 500 people at this assembly.

Maybe more.

And the school did a very nice job of paying tribute.

It started with the old standards.

The presenting of the colors.

The pledge of allegiance.

The national anthem.

Then the heavy stuff kicked in.

One of the third graders was called to the front of the room.

She had prepared a speech.

A two-page speech.

To talk about what it was like for her dad to be gone.

For four months.

In Iraq.

She admitted that when she first heard he was going to Iraq.

She had no idea where that was.

She then told us how much she missed him while he was gone.

Missed reading with him.

And eating with him.

And talking with him.

And seeing him.

By this point, the assembly was being sponsored by Kleenex.

When she finished, her father was called to the stage.

In his uniform.

Then the mom.

Then her brother.

Feel free to call me soft.

A sap.

Whatever you want.

But I was in tears.

Just like the rest of the gymnasium.

The program ran almost 90 minutes.

Twice as long as expected.

But nobody was complaining.

Each class sang the theme song from a different branch of the military.

And of course there were speakers.

One gentleman – a Captain in the Marine Corps – prepared a slide show.

During that slide show he played an audio clip.

An audio clip from June of 1972.

The announcement was an official sounding voice saying that an American plane had been shot down over Vietnam.

And that there was no sign of the two on board.

He then passed along his condolences to the families of the pilots.

Thankfully there was one problem with that announcement.

And that problem was that one of the pilots was still alive.

Captured, but alive.

In fact, that pilot was standing right in front of us.

Speaking at our assembly.

He spoke about spending 290 days at the “Hanoi Hilton”.

Otherwise known as Hoa Lo Prison.

That's where many of the POWs spent time.

Including John McCain.

And another man he showed us a picture of.

A man who spent 3113 days at this Horrible Hilton.

He spoke of the conditions.

And the treatment.

And the torture.

I'm not really sure how much the students really understood.

Which might be a good thing.

But the fact that he made it through to the other side is what we were there to celebrate.

Unfortunately the same can't be said for his flying mate.

Still considered Missing in Action.

39 years later.

At the end of his speech, the Captain opened it up for questions.

From the far right a girl raised her hand.

And when she was called on she said:

“Did you know my daddy was born in 1973?”

The room laughed.

Cute.

I suppose.

But clearly these kids didn't get it.

Maybe that's not such a good thing.