Category: Reflections

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.

Something to think about

At the recent Veteran’s Day parade, something that made sense immediately was given to me. I didn’t have to stop and think a lot about it.

When a flag is retired it is done so with dignity and solemnity. Some have seen the retirement with the local American Legion or the Boy Scouts performing this ceremony.

I was presented with two of these. If you have served this nation you will know how the phrase “You are not forgotten” resonates. If you have not served, talk with a Veteran in your neighborhood or your town. Sometimes it is simply recognizing someone. Listening to them and inviting them to share helps a Veteran know that they are not forgotten.

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.

Reviving Old Shed Doors: My Journey

The author reflects on their old shed doors, which became bowed and detached over time. Initially sturdy, the doors were eventually replaced after nearly 25 years. They ponder what to do with the heavy, worn doors, describing them as both cumbersome and a nostalgic reminder of the past.

It’s just something that I stop and think about. These are the doors that were on my shed. Heavy and solid. Over time, they started to bow. They pulled away from the screws that held the hinges to the shed. They were not working as well as they did in the past. My best guess is that the shed was built in 2000. So, it has been up for almost a quarter of a century. And with the weather here in Western Indiana, it has fared well. I did replace them with new-er constructed doors.

What do you do with the older doors? I can’t use them; they are heavier than I can safely maneuver. Two six foot doors. Worn blue gray paint. Heavy hinges. A portal to the past. Looking for two doors?