MEMORIAL DAY

I just came back from my annual visit to the Boone County War Memorial at the town square.  Every year, for the last five years, I've made it a point to pray at the memorial. I go down on one knee, and touch a name, saying it softly, asking God to comfort the family that name belonged to.  Then I utter this one simple phrase; "God, help me to live in such a way as to honor their sacrifice."  I started doing this after watching 'Saving Private Ryan.'  

You see, I served in the Air Force from 1980 till 1995, and I feel as if I paid my civic duty to this great nation.  This day isn't about those who served, or those who are serving now. This day is to remember those who didn't come back. Yes, I know the cost in time, and family can't be explained to those who've never served. As much as I enjoyed my time of service, I can't come near the sacrifice of those who died in defense of this nation.  For that reason alone, I kneel at the memorial to honor those brave souls by remembering that they lay in a grave somewhere having their life cut short so that I might continue living.  

Teaching civics to your children isn't the job of the school.  I guarantee you, there are very few schools who teach military service as a civic duty any more.  Even more amazing is the knowledge that we haven't had a draft since the Vietnam War.  Those who's lives are engraved upon the  War on Terror memorial were volunteers.  They willingly chose to defend this nation.  

Memorial Day has become a travesty, it's hallowed meaning overcome by camping trips, BBQ's, lake outings, and backyard gatherings. So many of our children grow up never knowing even one name from their city, or county who never came home from the battlefield they were sent off to.  Many children don't even know of one relative who gave their life in one of our many conflicts.  Now, we sell wreaths, and grave decorations so that we can adorn the graves of any relative, while the purpose of this National Day of Remembrance disappears in our mindless pursuit of pleasures.  To many in this generation, it will be nothing more than the kick-off of summer.  Labor Day gets more honor than Memorial Day.   

I've spoke about this once before, and I feel as if I need to do it again before this day passes.  It isn't hard to bring your child to a knowledge of what this day is, if you take just fifteen minutes, and go to our city square.  Take a crayon, or a pencil and a piece of paper.  Ask your child to pick a name on the memorial and show them how to do an etching.  Then go to your knees and ask them to speak peace upon the family that name represents.  There is a wing of the memorial that is for our brave heroes who died in the war on terror.  Most of these names belong to young men who were barely out of high school when they made their sacrifice.  For some of those families, the sacrifice was too great, with the collateral damage being financial ruin, alcoholism, and in some instances suicide.  Who knows, maybe a little child's innocent prayer will send angels of peace to speak comfort to those still grieving. No matter what, I guarantee you, for those families of those on the memorial, this day isn't just a holiday.  

Is 15 minutes a price too high for you to pay? 

Before you walk away, look at the little cross at the top of the Memorial.  Did you know that Boone County had someone awarded the Medal of Honor?  Do you know the story behind that name?   Some of you have grown up in this city and may not even know about him.    

I'm going to sit down in a little while and play 'Saving Private Ryan'.  I'll do that so that I can see the last scene, and remind myself of the cost of liberty.  I'll do it because I have friends who died in the terror bombing at Al Khobar June 25th, 1996.  Just three years before that, I was in that very building, so I carry with me the knowledge that 20 young warriors died that night, and it could have been me.  

Our mighty nation is defended by less than 2% of it's population, is it too much to ask you to stop for 15 minutes, and tell your children what this day is all about?  

What The Father Says

I'm hoping this will be the last blog I write during our Coronavirus lockdown.  I've been trying to hold our place in the study by expanding upon the importance of talking to your children, and creating the 'lap of the father.'  My intention with our study into fatherhood was to be somewhere near the end of the study when Father's Day arrived.  

Wow!  Did I ever miss it.

If any of you saw this coming down the pike back in January please let me know.  I was listening to Hugh Hewitt every morning, and he and Senator Tom Cotton were talking about the virus while it was still in China.  Still even then, I had no clue that our nation would shut down, or that people would be forced to cower in fear in their homes.  

Here we are in the last week of May staring down a Memorial day holiday, unable to go where we would like to go.  I'm not holding out much hope for Father's Day. 

I have a project for all of you, and it will be one that even our 'non-fathers' can do.  Yes, it is going to require you to do something instead of just 'thinking'.  

I would like you to look back over the years and the many things you've heard your Dad say to you, and pick one thing he said that impacted you the most.  It doesn't have to be spiritual, and it doesn't have to be something he made up himself.  What I'm looking for is something that changed your outlook on life, or gave you a direction for your life that you live by today.  It doesn't have to be tender, gushy, or any of that other stuff that we guys tend to get uncomfortable with, but it needs to be a moment when what your father said altered your life.  To make it easy on you, Write it down!  Take a little time and write down what he said, and how it changed you. 

I'll start you off with my story and show you how easy it is.  

Of all the advice, guidance, and rules to live by, my Dad was fairly simple.  He wasn't talkative, and getting things from him usually involved delving into politics, women, or football.  So, while I was a child at home my Dad offered the same advice I'm sure many of you received; Don't lie, don't steal, don't hit a woman, don't cuss in front of women, don't talk back to your Mom, DON'T talk back to him. The one thing my father told me that changed my life wasn't spiritual, but it set me up for success for the rest of my life after he said it to me.   

I'd just been stationed at Mountain Home Idaho and I was 27 years old.  Our car was having terrible problems and I didn't have the money to buy a new one.  At the time I was driving 60 miles from Boise, Idaho to the base at Mountain Home.  I was in college, had two kids, and living in an 8' x 24' travel trailer.  It felt hopeless to me.  I was drowning in fear, and I didn't have the skills to fix my car.  In desperation I called my Dad, and told him what the car was doing.  After listening to me for about twenty minutes on a collect call, he finally determined that I was having carburetor problems.  "You're going to have to take it off and put in a repair kit."  he said.

WHAT???!!!!   

That was easy for him to say.  He, and his Dad had worked on cars together since he was a little boy.  I hadn't!  I was a book nerd, a dreamer, and other things he wasn't.  

"Dad,"  I said, "I don't think I can do it."  I replied, remembering all the broken watches, and other things I'd disassembled without being able to put them back together.  

"Dave, is it broke right now?"  He asked. 

"Yes, Sir."  I answered.  

"Is it gonna fix itself?"  

"No."  

"It's metal, Boy, somebody made it, and it can be fixed.  If it can't be fixed, you can buy a new one.  It's only metal, fix it."  

In hindsight I know now he was just trying to get me off the phone because he was paying for the long distance call, but what he said changed my life.  I know that's not very monumental, and isn't world changing, but for me it spoke volumes.  I went to the local auto store, bought a carburetor rebuild kit, put it on while following the directions, and danced with glee when the car purred like a kitten. 

From that moment on, nothing made of metal intimidated me.  If it was broke, I couldn't break it any more than it was already broke.  If I couldn't fix it, I could replace it.  It was only metal.   That confidence made me a successful Aircraft Repairman in the Air Force and changed my career.  It also allowed me to keep our family going through many years of vehicles in various states of repair with very little money.  

What you say to your children may seem to be hollow, and empty at the moment you say it, but I know from talking to many of you, that each of you have had moments when what your father said changed the course of your life.  

Write it down.  Take the time to put that memory on paper for the sake of your children, and their children.  Let's be prepared to read them on our first Sunday back together.  

As a Post Script, it is funny how things change as you get older.  Whenever Dad needs a carburetor rebuilt, he buys a kit, and gives it to me;  "I need you to do your magic, Boy.  I can't rebuild carbs as good as you."  

I smile while putting it in my truck, and say: "It's only metal, Dad, I'll fix it."