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.
