The Power of Memorial Day

This year, I once again joined my sons in paying tribute to our great American heroes. My older son a Boy Scout in Troop 53 and my younger son a Cub Scout in Pack 55 both proudly wore their uniforms to the Swampscott Cemetery to help pay tribute to those who proudly wore the uniform of our nation. As the three of us stood at attention and listened to the twenty-one gun salute, I realized that my eyes were filled with tears.

Memorial Day always reminds me of my favorite veteran, my Dad. While my Dad was long past his active duty days by the time that I came along, he often shared with me the lessons he gained as a result of his Army service. He spoke of honor and duty and love of country. He reminded me time and again, that there are things to be done simply because they are the right things to do. 

I remember to this day, an experience of some thirty plus years ago. I was a small child when my family traveled to a service at the Chapel of the Four Chaplains in my hometown of Philadelphia. A group of men and women were being honored for acting in a manner reminiscent of the fabled Four Chaplains. Among the honored was my father.

While the speaker saluted my father and his heroic actions in rescuing an elderly woman from a burning building he also recounted a story which I had never heard before. This gentleman spoke about how my Dad had every tooth in his mouth broken out and had also lost the sight in one eye as a result of injuries sustained while serving in Korea. Later that day, as I asked my Dad about this, he simply said he was the lucky one because the other man in the jeep never made it home at all. We never spoke of it again.

I think of this story every time I visit my Dad who now rests with his comrades in arms at the South Florida National Veterans' Cemetery. I only knew of his sacrifice because someone else told me about it.

Real heroes don't ask for thanks. That is why I was so touched when so many real heroes offered thanks to my sons for coming out to offer a salute to them. I was proud of my sons and I was humbled just to be among the collection of America's best. No, real heroes never do ask for thanks but I hope they heard all of us offering them loud and clear.