Happy Memorial Day 2007
WARRIORS GATE
At theAirport earlier today there was tons of traffic rolling through theTerminal Ramps.
It was my day off but I was earning Over Time pay, so for once I was happier about working.
I saw theHearse and, at first I thought it was a commercial Limo vehicle, but no. It was a hearse.
And it was parked in theCenter lane, and another pickup was parked behind it, a soldier walked quickly from thePickup up to theHearse.
Oh no... a Soldier is inconvenienced by theHearse blocking him and he's going to yell at theHearse driver....Or so I thought.
As at theAirport, this very thing happens about ever two days, various drivers ticking each other off and arguing with each other if not arguing with US security.
But this situation was different.theSoldier was speaking quietly with theHearse driver and as I stepped up to listen to theConversationI looked in back of theHearse,
looked past theDrivers shoulders and observed an American Flag-draped Coffin.
A soldier was on his way home and his Escort buddies were inside theTerminal,waiting for their bags, etc. Was the situation that I learned just by watching.
My supervisor was close by and he told me to clear some parked vehicles out of theWay and make room on theCurb for theLimo and the two civilian vehicles. So I did,
"would you please make room for the deceased Iraq war veteran in theHearse and his escort friends?"
People moved.
And theHearse & two vehicles moved in close to theCurbside. Another Soldier stepped out of theTerminal and then went back inside.
Vehicles went by, people stood outside theTerminal doors, some smoked their cigarettes and others talked on their cell phones.
theTaxi's sat on theCurb on their commercial vehicles only-drive and watched everything else take place.
In my mind I quietly yelled out, "Attention on Deck!!"
As was theNavy customs that I knew, of standing at attention out of Military respect for thePresence of any Officers or other people of Importance.
a cigarette landed on thePavement behind a parked car,
an angry man snapped his cel phone shut and quietly swore under his breath,
a tingle in my foot moved from theSole up and around to theTop of my foot and into my ankle,
my feet were sore from 6 days of working 10hrs.
All of us at theTerminal that hour, that minute had these and such other things of Life to enjoy and to endure and theYoung man in theCoffin had nothing.
For me it was a shake up to theReality of theWar we are seeing on tv.
Everything happens over there, and now and then I see theLiving soldiers at theAirport.
They might double park their vehicles as they pick up their buddies or pickup and Officer,
they might leave their vehicles unattended and then get mad when I politely remind them to not leave vehicles unattended.
Some even get mad and spit at my feet and start pointing things out around us that they see, things that I could be correcting instead of telling them Where to smoke, and I let them speak.
For they have that and such other rights of speech and thought.
Yet it's the ones who never draw my attention in the first place and whom never talk back to me that quietly draw my respect,
I like to think that they know that I'm just doing a thankless job like they do, of keeping Law and Order, of keeping society in place to a degree and honestly, Someone has to do it.
but no matter theActions of theSoldier to me,
if they go away and come back in theBox I will never forget them.
Because they gave their all, for what ever reason, they left this country and went into uniform and most currently are fighting overseas in an increasingly unpopular war.
Later on, after theHearse and theEscort buddies/vehicles left,
an Curbside parker looked at me and noticed that I was sad.
Why?
So I told him of theHearse that had recently left.
theParker said to me,
"we sure know how to enjoy our freedoms,but we don't know how to pay for them"
and he kept talking pro war things,
but that one thought stuck with me,
we sure know how to enjoy our freedoms, but we don't know how to pay for them.
Then I turned my thoughts to my own Ancestors and of thePrivate family Cemetaryback in South Dakota.
I thought of theCemetary Gates and of what it takes to go past / through those Gates.
It takes sacrifice, it takes courage,
Eehh.. and it might take a failed Liver or an used up body & poor health too!!
But sooner or later, every one of us has to pass through theGates.
How we pass through, with Honor or Dis, is up to us.
I salute theMilitary,
I've been there and am working to go back again soon.
theSam!!
At theAirport earlier today there was tons of traffic rolling through theTerminal Ramps.
It was my day off but I was earning Over Time pay, so for once I was happier about working.
I saw theHearse and, at first I thought it was a commercial Limo vehicle, but no. It was a hearse.
And it was parked in theCenter lane, and another pickup was parked behind it, a soldier walked quickly from thePickup up to theHearse.
Oh no... a Soldier is inconvenienced by theHearse blocking him and he's going to yell at theHearse driver....Or so I thought.
As at theAirport, this very thing happens about ever two days, various drivers ticking each other off and arguing with each other if not arguing with US security.
But this situation was different.theSoldier was speaking quietly with theHearse driver and as I stepped up to listen to theConversationI looked in back of theHearse,
looked past theDrivers shoulders and observed an American Flag-draped Coffin.
A soldier was on his way home and his Escort buddies were inside theTerminal,waiting for their bags, etc. Was the situation that I learned just by watching.
My supervisor was close by and he told me to clear some parked vehicles out of theWay and make room on theCurb for theLimo and the two civilian vehicles. So I did,
"would you please make room for the deceased Iraq war veteran in theHearse and his escort friends?"
People moved.
And theHearse & two vehicles moved in close to theCurbside. Another Soldier stepped out of theTerminal and then went back inside.
Vehicles went by, people stood outside theTerminal doors, some smoked their cigarettes and others talked on their cell phones.
theTaxi's sat on theCurb on their commercial vehicles only-drive and watched everything else take place.
In my mind I quietly yelled out, "Attention on Deck!!"
As was theNavy customs that I knew, of standing at attention out of Military respect for thePresence of any Officers or other people of Importance.
a cigarette landed on thePavement behind a parked car,
an angry man snapped his cel phone shut and quietly swore under his breath,
a tingle in my foot moved from theSole up and around to theTop of my foot and into my ankle,
my feet were sore from 6 days of working 10hrs.
All of us at theTerminal that hour, that minute had these and such other things of Life to enjoy and to endure and theYoung man in theCoffin had nothing.
For me it was a shake up to theReality of theWar we are seeing on tv.
Everything happens over there, and now and then I see theLiving soldiers at theAirport.
They might double park their vehicles as they pick up their buddies or pickup and Officer,
they might leave their vehicles unattended and then get mad when I politely remind them to not leave vehicles unattended.
Some even get mad and spit at my feet and start pointing things out around us that they see, things that I could be correcting instead of telling them Where to smoke, and I let them speak.
For they have that and such other rights of speech and thought.
Yet it's the ones who never draw my attention in the first place and whom never talk back to me that quietly draw my respect,
I like to think that they know that I'm just doing a thankless job like they do, of keeping Law and Order, of keeping society in place to a degree and honestly, Someone has to do it.
but no matter theActions of theSoldier to me,
if they go away and come back in theBox I will never forget them.
Because they gave their all, for what ever reason, they left this country and went into uniform and most currently are fighting overseas in an increasingly unpopular war.
Later on, after theHearse and theEscort buddies/vehicles left,
an Curbside parker looked at me and noticed that I was sad.
Why?
So I told him of theHearse that had recently left.
theParker said to me,
"we sure know how to enjoy our freedoms,but we don't know how to pay for them"
and he kept talking pro war things,
but that one thought stuck with me,
we sure know how to enjoy our freedoms, but we don't know how to pay for them.
Then I turned my thoughts to my own Ancestors and of thePrivate family Cemetaryback in South Dakota.
I thought of theCemetary Gates and of what it takes to go past / through those Gates.
It takes sacrifice, it takes courage,
Eehh.. and it might take a failed Liver or an used up body & poor health too!!
But sooner or later, every one of us has to pass through theGates.
How we pass through, with Honor or Dis, is up to us.
I salute theMilitary,
I've been there and am working to go back again soon.
theSam!!
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