dpeter19

So much to say, but …

Never could have seen or imagined things occurring here, and now. It was just yesterday. Maybe this past weekend. Time just blurred.

I have worked for many employers over many years. From a local grocery store, newspaper delivery, fast food chains, local restaurants I have seen many jobs come and go. Some were short-term and others were longer; employment depended at times on the bosses, scheduling and personal goals.

Serving my country a Soldier in the United States Army helped me understand and serve with duty and honor. Living overseas gave me opportunities to learn, immerse in local cultures, holidays, food and appreciate differences rather than denounce them. I served with a wide swath of American society. No one was better than anyone. No assignment or task was assigned by some nefarious means. We served together.

We all took the same oath. to serve the country, and follow the orders of an office, and not a party or person. This was the start of learning how to serve. And this soon became a part of me.

Being employed in universities affirmed the role of service. Lastly as Dean of the University Library service was keenly a part of my tenure. As I served on several organizations I found more comments as I encouraged others in their employment. Helping and simply listening were commonplace with me and were important for so much.

And that brings me to the current topic. I have never asked political stance, religious affiliation or loyalty to a person. I am not comfortable being asked nor will I answer the same. This day loyalty, or more specifically fealty, is infused in the news of the day.

Let me state that I am a Christian, knowing that judgment belongs to God alone. Not choosing to sound off-putting, I have friends who have been marginalized or dismissed and persecuted for their beliefs, parents, social status, orientation and any petty distinction.

Some of the connections to the hostile, the decisive, and the marginalized must be re-examined. This may be a time to make a disconnect and connect elsewhere.

Angel

Setting in my chair this evening watching the snow fall still. Mom and I had a bowl of cabbage and potato soup. Dishes in the dish washer. A knock at the door. Neither of us were expecting anyone.

A fellow asked if we needed anything shoveled. I was having problems speaking and the fellow was patient and waited until words returned to me. I said that the ramp was important. He went to his truck, pulled out a snow shovel and went to work.

I wanted to talk with him and see what I could learn from him. He told me that he was driving home, saw the wheelchair ramp covered with snow. “Saw the ramp and all the snow. Just wanted to do something.” We talked more and learned a bit more from each other.

In a brief period of time. He had cleared the ramp, out to the mailbox and half of the driveway. I offered him twenty dollars and he remarked “I did this for you.”

He gave me a big bear hug and said “Take care brother.”

Be careful when someone knocks on your door. It could be an angel sent for you.

Amen.

Books to read

I am about halfway through Megan Kate Nelson’s “The Three-Cornered War”. A wonderfully written history of the Union Army, the Confederate Army, and Native Tribes in the Southwest, and the battles to claim the West. Exceptional and detailed primary sources, endnotes all linking the past together.

After setting through Oklahoma History in the 1970’s and later learning how the history taught in High School omitted events, it would not surprise me to learn the same happened in New Mexico.

Far too often in recent and current times some seek to revise history, and erase historical events and people. It is the story of time, place and people.

Two holidays

It might surprise you, or it may not, but my answer was formed after my separation from service on September 19, 1996. Yes, there needs to be more unintended confusion about both holidays. From this veteran’s perspective, it is easy to see how confusion still exists. To me, Memorial Day has been a much more somber day. I’ve never been to Arlington for the services, but after watching them, I must say that the atmosphere is much more focused on the ultimate sacrifice. Something must be said to see the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers and the Honor Guard walking the post. Very measured. Deliberate. Exacting and precise. No words are heard. There are no sounds except for the heels clicking as the sentry stops, pauses, and begins. The sound would remind some Veterans of the report of a single rifle shot. Crisp. A sure quiet blankets the Cemetery, comforting and consoling the dead as they rest beneath the green grass, with a simple white stone at the head. These hallowed spots are decorated to honor the fallen and for the families to show their undying love. Memorial Day is to remember and reflect on the service and mission completed.

Veteran’s Day is, for me, the public acknowledgment of the service of those who chose to wear the uniform, to stand ready, to be prepared, and for some, to be called to defend the very freedoms enjoyed by so many. These were and are the ones who are here with us today. They are part of a community, a family with loyalty, fidelity, and a sense of more remarkable service. They are publically acknowledged but one day a year. Parades, high school marching bands, and veteran groups from the town and county perhaps collectively remind us, especially those who have not served, that we sacrificed our time, our families to support this country, and our fragile yet resilient democracy.

When I enlisted on January 4, 1984, it was out of a sense of duty to the neighbors next door and those in other states. What could I do? Germany was still divided: East and West. The Berlin Wall still cut an ugly scar across the German land, dividing based on political and ideological distinctions, nothing else. I have a picture that I took when I was in Germany, West Germany: the border, with the distinctive dead zones, the barbed wire fences, and on the other side, the Eastern side, a guard tower with reflective windows, standing as a sentry, waiting and protecting.

Being assigned to the 1st Cavalry Division at Fort Hood was another moment that made me keenly aware of the importance of service. I was assigned to the 1st Squadron of the 7th U. S. Cavalry Regiment—George Armstrong Custer’s unit. The black stetson I wear at Veteran’s Day parades is easily recognizable. When other Veterans see the stetson, they know the unit, the history, and the passion. Whether the other Vet served in Korea or Vietnam, a quick salute and thumbs up connects us as brothers.

I share those stories to show that Veteran’s Day gives me opportunities to connect with or perhaps reconnect with my band of brothers. We acknowledge each other’s service, share some stories, and are part of the team. While there may be tears shed learning about a brother or sister’s death, we keep their memories alive.

For me, Memorial Day is associated with the final resting place, at the gravesite. Memorials are tangible reminders of a past. Veteran’s Day celebrates, honors and recognizes the living. Memorial Day has a single story of past events, with variations from time, space, and proximity tto the deceased. Veteran’s Day stories are living vignettes and are told by their author, the veteran. Two separate holidays. Both honoring veterans.