Tag Archives: veterans

Hometown Heroes

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I live in a small town. Banners decorate the street lights downtown showing veterans in uniform and a notation of when they served. I have never looked into participating in the program as it is my understanding that the locale where the banner is hung is within the hometown of the veteran. As I have shared several times, my father was career Navy. What I might not have shared is that he was born in a very rural area where there are still no street lights or sidewalks. Fortunately, my father is enrolled in the US Navy Memorial in Washington DC.  When it was established, he took pride in knowing his time in service would be immortalized. His picture is there, in uniform, smiling for prosperity.

Again, living in a small town doesn’t always give one the opportunity to appreciate the information that is shared on the banners. There are few street lights here and I don’t often have the opportunity to stop at a red light and take in the name and timeframe of service. The subtext varies, but many of them note the individual was missing in action or killed in action. It is hard to believe that a small town could have made so many sacrifices.

Today may be observed as Veteran’s Day but the sacrifice made by our brave service members is something that we should carry with us for more than just one day. I look at those pictures, frozen in time, and think about those same individuals walking down these very same streets. Their clothing may have been different but I imagine their dreams were much the same as ours. For some those dreams were transformed to a greater sacrifice that gives us the opportunity to comfortably walk down these same streets safely and securely.

I imagine the Hometown Heroes program will continue to flourish. I hope it does. It’s a wonderful way to pay tribute to those who served. Our gratitude may be nudged by those banners fluttering in the breeze but I hope that is not the only thing. I also hope that remembrance is a part of us always, and not just one day in November.

The Greatest Generation

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(It is not lost on me that Tuesday, November 11, is Veteran’s Day. I posted this blog over two years ago in lieu of Memorial Day. I have never forgotten the experience, nor the man, and felt strongly about sharing it again. I will pick up my figurative pen and post something more on Tuesday in honor of our veterans.)

An elderly man was pushing his shopping cart through the check out and I didn’t realize that I was blocking his exit. His white hair was neatly trimmed and combed into place. I noticed that although it was spring, he was wearing a flannel shirt. It looked as if the tags had recently been removed as it appeared new. Work pants completed his outfit. His cart contained two boxes of Cheerios and a bag. He politely let me know that he was trying to move around me and I stepped to the side. With a smile I asked him if he had a license to operate his shopping cart.

What I thought was a humorous passing comment opened a conversation that I didn’t anticipate. Not knowing if he misunderstood my remark, he chose to tell me that he was 99 years old and has been able to maintain his driver’s license. I didn’t get a sense that he said it in a condescending way but rather with understated pride. I could see that he was someone that didn’t take his independence for granted.

Although I have played our conversation over in my head several times, I am still unable to remember how he introduced the fact that he was a veteran of WWII. He was an infantry soldier and it has left a mark on him that is evident to this day. Ironically, he was soft spoken, yet his words suggested that during those years he experienced hell on earth. He spoke of the heat and the bugs and how collectively it had played havoc on their health. There was no relief at night as they slept on the ground and the morning dampness only added to the damage to their skin.  However harsh the environment might have been, it played only a small part of what they contended with regularly. His battalion saw heavy fighting and heavy losses. With pride he shared that there was a monument erected as a result of their service.

If he shared the particular information identifying his battalion or the actual location where he fought, I don’t recall. I do feel I heard what was important. Here was a man who selflessly put his life on the line for what he believed. I had been given the perception that he questions why he was able to survive when so many others didn’t. He has done more than survive as he anticipates celebrating his 100th birthday by the end of summer. He has had many years to reflect upon his life and what his purpose might have been as he made his way on this journey. After our conversation came to an end he smiled and said he was going home to read his Bible.

I don’t know who this man is and I am certain I will never see him again. I know nothing of him other than what he chose to share. I have no name to identify him and no way to congratulate him on his anticipated 100th birthday. He could say the same of me. Yet the universe felt it was necessary for our paths to cross. An elderly man was able to share a part of his life that was traumatic yet deemed necessary. Although I was a receptive audience, I look at myself and wonder what the purpose might have been.

It might be natural to think of the greatest generation during this Memorial Day weekend. How many of that population never had the opportunity to grow old? They experienced the Depression and made it through to the other side. They did their part in the sky, on land and sea. For those not serving, they kept the home fires burning with ration books in hand. They raised families where many of their offspring let their hair grow and questioned the necessity of war. Yet this resilient group of people continued to move forward. Every day their numbers dwindle and their lives full of service and sacrifice go with them. I felt like I was given a gift to have a window into this stranger’s life. By accepting this gift I feel I must pay it forward. I chose to make payment by honoring this individual, those like him, and most importantly, those who gave their lives. This blog doesn’t scratch the surface of recompense for their sacrifice but it comes with a profound sincerity.  

Veterans

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This blog is not late. Yes, as a nation, we celebrated Veterans’ Day on November 11 but our gratitude should be evident every day. That appreciation was personally instilled in me as a child. Later in life, as a Navy wife, I had the good fortune to serve the ship’s crew and their dependents as the Family Support Group President. The ship’s captain allowed me an open door policy and I felt that collectively we offered significant assistance to those who knew the hardship and sacrifice that came with the Navy lifestyle. Once we were enjoying life back in the civilian environment, I held the role of Emergency Service Director in the American Red Cross. For close to a decade I was charged with managing our service to the Armed Forces among other emergency programs. I might not have ever served as active duty but I felt in my own way that I did offer my time and talents in gratitude to those who served. I don’t hesitate to confess that I consider my efforts miniscule in comparison to those who wore the uniform.

I live in a small town, surrounded by other small towns. Locally, it is not uncommon to see the Hometown Hero banners adorn the utility poles. If you are not familiar with the program, it is a tangible way for a hometown community to acknowledge those who served. Banners are displayed honoring veterans along the main streets in their hometown. The banners typically printed in red, white and blue show the individual in uniform, their name and branch of service. The era or conflict in which they were involved is listed additionally. I have often noted while in my car, waiting for a light to change, that there are several that note the ultimate sacrifice was made. Those proud faces accompany you while you make your way through town. It is easy to detect those whose activity came decades earlier. Their pictures displayed, frozen in time, above the streets they might have walked in prior decades.

I often share the fact that my father was career Navy. It offered him opportunities that he would have never had if he had remained in southern Georgia, where he was born when economic struggles were the norm. He saw the world, achieved his GED and rose to the rank of Chief Petty Officer. He never spoke of the horrors of war that he witnessed yet it was clear that he valued the bonds he held with his shipmates and what together they endured. We would never be able to honor him with a Hometown Hero banner as the locale of his birth was so very rural. He remedied that himself by enrolling in the US Navy Memorial. He is listed on the Navy Log, proof that he devoted twenty years of his life in service to something much larger than himself. Over thirty years has passed since his death and he is forever linked to those who also sacrificed selflessly.

I will continue to notice the Hometown Hero banners as I make my way through every town that displays them. I will look at those youthful faces and wonder where they are today. I know they all have a story to tell and certainly that story holds integrity and bravery. I also am painfully aware that I can never thank them all personally for their service and sacrifice. Yes, Veteran’s Day falls on November 11 annually but I don’t feel as a country we are bound to only celebrate this dedicated group of people once a year. As I write this, I am not at a loss for words. Those thoughts, coming directly from my heart, say thank you to those who served and ask that those who are currently standing in harm’s way are protected and remain safe.