| ... as a child, my grandfather
telling my brother and me about his time in WWII. I probably
didn't pay attention then, but I do now. I remember his trunk
that held his Army uniform and various "memorabilia" from his
service, and his Purple Heart, which hangs on his wall even
now.
... voting in mock elections in
school, as early as the sixth grade. I couldn't wait until I was
big and old enough to vote, and I had a crazy notion that I would
grow up to be President.
... writing an essay for the
Optimist Club when I was in the 8th grade. The topic was "Freedom
: A Right or a Privilege". I still have my certificate of
participation, but unfortunately don't have a copy of my
essay.
... when Desert Storm went from
being a conflict I wasn't too concerned with to a full-scale war
that had me scared. I remember hearing a plane fly over the
junior high school, and worrying that the Iraqis were going to
bomb us; the plane was probably just one of many flying to, or
from, DFW airport.
... my junior year in high
school, when a gentleman came to the Honors World History class
and spoke to us of his part in dropping the bomb on Nagasaki. I
remember the aerial photos he took more than I remember his
words; wish I remembered more.
... my junior year in high
school, when the choir teacher (also assistant band director)
asked each of us to write the words to the Star-Spangled Banner.
I remember being only one of two in this choir (about twenty of
us) who knew all the words, and that I was the only one able to
spell "Francis Scott Key" properly.
... voting in my first
presidential election [in 1996]. I also remember taking a friend
to the voting polls. She is of opposite opinions political-wise
than am I, but she (being a first-generation American whose
family came from Africa) was the first person from her family to
not only go to college, but also to vote. I was, and still am,
proud of her.
... my third year in college,
giving a speech in my speech lab (lecture was separate). I wrote
about how we, as Americans, take our rights for granted ... I
gave examples, showed what we could do to help keep our freedoms,
et cetera. Of the entire class, teacher included, only the Dutch
guy paid attention and seemed to care.
... early 1998, when I adopted
my first Vietnam War MIA. I remember adopting the others, too,
and crying at their stories. I haven't looked back
since.
... my month-long student
exchange trip to Germany. I remember the massive cemetery in
Hamburg, filled mostly with young men who died during the second
World War. I remember the various cathedrals, mainly one in
Luebeck, that had been bombed, and viewing photos of the
restoration. I remember visiting the Amsterdam building where the
Frank family, et al, hid away in, and also the visit to
Bergen-Belsen, the concentration camp at which Margot and Anne
Frank died; I visited it on Anne's birthday. Even though the
Germans were our enemy, the cemetery made me sad; I barely held
it together at Bergen-Belsen.
... writing, in November 2000,
a column for the university
newspaper, about my involvement in the POW/MIA cause and how,
after much delay (this was the week before elections), the
then-editor-in-chief decided that, after Veterans Day, this issue
is no longer relevant. My best friend, Andy, a journalism major,
chose me as his subject for a "character profile" he had to write
for one of his classes; it was his retaliation of sorts for my
article not making it.
... election night 2000.
Staying up until 0100 (at least) with my fellow College
Republicans, watching the election results with other
Republicans. I remember being happy, mad, elated, furious, and
yet grateful that we, as a nation, can have elections.
... Veterans Day 2000. I was in
Waxahachie (TX), my HS alma mater, for the unveiling of the Ellis
County Veterans Memorial. The mother and family of Timothy Guana,
who was killed aboard the USS Cole, was there. Then-Governor Bush
was supposed to be there, but this was four days after the
election. Guana's name was etched into the panel of "peace time
casualties" just in time for the unveiling.
... Memorial Day 2001. Less
than half an hour after meeting the local VVA members/officers
for the first time, I was adopted by the post. I remember being
greeted by an elderly black man, whom I later learned was a POW
during the Korean War. I knew then that I was welcomed in
Texarkana's veterans community.
... my trip with my dad to
Washington, D.C. and Virginia, taken the week after Memorial Day
2001. I remember touring the Pentagon, and paying my respects at
Arlington National Cemetery and the Iwo Jima memorial. I remember
touring Gettysburg, and later Appomattox. I remember sobbing as I
made rubbings of the names of my adoptees, informing people about
Dr. Eleanor Ardel Vietti at the Nurses Memorial, and taking gobs
of photographs at the Korean Memorial.
... the September 11th attacks.
I remember my grandpa coming next door and telling me about the
attacks. I remember thinking he was kidding, but how stupid that
was to think. I remember being stunned at what had happened, not
believing it had happened, yet believing that it [such horror]
was possible, and, as bad as it sounds, inevitable. I
remember my grandma telling my grandpa to get his shotgun and get
ready to go. I remember, even now, the increased activity at
Barksdale AF Base, which resulted in many military fly-overs
around here.
... 11 April, 2002. I failed my
audition for the game show Jeopardy!, but had a most pleasant
surprise in the form of an e-mail from the twin brother of my
adopted Marine, 1Lt. Ron
Forrester. I continue to be blessed by being in communication
with him and his younger brother.
... Memorial Day 2002. Talked
with Mr. Johnson, the Korean War ex-POW, again. Was invited by
the VVA to participate in The Moving Wall ceremonies when the
Wall comes to Texarkana in September. I remember taking along a
photo of one of my adoptees, and sharing his story with old and
young alike. I remember that these guys are the heroes, not the
movie star or rapper, or even the draft-dodging former
Commander-In-Chief.
... the week-end of 6 September
to 8 September 2002, when the "Vietnam Wall Experience" was in
town. I remember the stories shared by those who were there, the
tears shed by those who weren't, and the power that even this
wall had. I remember closing ceremonies, when we all gathered at
The Wall to sing "God Bless The USA". My left hand was held by a
three-war Vet and my right by a two-war Vet. I remember crying
more than ever before when listening to that song, because I was
looking at 58,229 names engraved on a wall.
... an article on the 9th of
September 2002, which was a closing summary of the The Wall's
stay. The closing paragraph informed me, and all readers, that
dues had been paid to make me a life member of the Associates of
the Vietnam Veterans of America. This is one of the greatest
honors ever bestowed upon me.
... learning that the crash
site for the Jolly Green 23 had been found. I laughed, and I
cried, and I prayed for the families of the crew members, all who
had perished on 09 June 1968. The pilot of the JG23 was Lt. Jack Rittichier, USCG, one of my
adopted heroes.
... returning to Washington,
D.C. in October of 2003 to attend the funeral of Lt. Jack
Rittichier. Meeting the family, spending time with them, rooming
with my friend Janet, and presenting my POW bracelet for Jack to
his brother Dave, meeting and talking with one of the "Black Hawk
Down" guys, and being made an honorary member of the USCG are
just a few of the precious memories that will stay with me for
life.
... that
Freedom IS NOT Free.
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