A few weeks ago I was privileged to spend some very special time in Washington D. C. with a wonderful friend, who happens to be a veteran of the Viet Nam war. Thanks to the phenomenal grace and mercy of God, my friend returned from his tour of duty with neither physical nor mental wounds to serve as a reminder of his sacrifice, and for that I am grateful.
While we were visiting the Viet Nam Veteran’s Memorial, a massive wall listing 58, 260 names of service persons who fought and died for our country, I lightly ran my finger across a few names, painfully aware that each etching represented someone’s child or spouse or parent who waited for mail from home each day and dreamt each night of the time they would return home to the ones they loved.
My mind wandered off to the spring day in 1969 when Chuck Lowe, the ag teacher at French High school, accompanied the officials to bear the news that Larry, the brother of my best friend, had been killed. God bless Mr. Lowe, who performed that difficult task so many times over the next few years. He always accompanied the officials on those dreaded visits so he could break the news to the families himself. Many are the times Mr. Lowe stood by the heartbroken and wept as he buried yet another of his former students.
Thanks to the unselfish sacrifices of countless veterans, we are blessed to live in the greatest nation on earth. To all those hero’s who have fought bravely, who have served our country, and to those who have husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandsons, granddaughters, nephews, nieces, serving now, I salute you and give you my heartfelt thanks and eternal gratitude for the sacrifices that you have and will make.
Tomorrow I will spend the afternoon baking cookies to take to a few elderly veterans in my neighorhood. The look of appreciation on their faces will be priceless. My neighbor, L.C. will be home Wednesday, at which time he will again share his experience of visiting the wall, a place he goes every Memorial Day to honor his brother who neither came home from Viet Nam, nor was ever found. A black POW/MIA flag flies from his porch this weekend.
In seeing the faces of these folk and listening their stories, you will gain a new appreciation for these men and women who have given so much for us. I encourage everyone to salute and honor a vet today, and everyday. I promise, the experience will not leave you unaffected.
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