ArfinGreebly
Moderator Emeritus
I was actually looking for something else entirely, and stumbled on this.
It's a little late, and my eyes are a little watery, and . . .
A funny thing happened to a war hero on his way to an NRA meeting and a West Point Speech . . .
On 11 January 2002, Joseph J. Foss of Scottsdale, Arizona . . .
The story is here: http://snopes.com/military/medal.htm
I find myself disturbed by this, in ways not easily articulated.
He's just a man, and doesn't pretend to be more than that.
He's lived a real slice of life, but doesn't bandy it about.
He's someone to whom we all owe a debt of gratitude, but someone we recognize not at all.
His is a story of skill, valour, and courage, at a time when we needed it. He's the real deal. He's a man for whom I would hold the door.
He was even officially recognized for his contribution.
There was a time when, if he'd showed up in a bar or club or restaurant and the proprietor had seen that star, he'd have been well and properly served, and on that day he'd have been told, "save it, buddy, your money's no good here."
He's still that guy, but the country for which he fought barely remembers the struggle that riveted the attention of the whole nation.
The symbol of his exceptional service now arouses suspicion among functionaries whose sense of historical perspective is too shallow to appreciate his worth and their debt.
A man whose proper due is our respect and gratitude waits patiently while the highest honor than can be bestowed upon a defender of freedom is scrutinized as if it were the talisman of some dark art.
I just . . . can't . . . well, damn.
And he's not alone.
There are so many of his kind and there is so much we have to learn from them . . . and yet, I feel, we do not ask.
I pray we do not waste this wisdom, I pray enough of us can keep the flame alive.
Next time I'm at the range, I'll quietly render my own salute. Just me and my carbine. And a few ghosts.
It's a little late, and my eyes are a little watery, and . . .
A funny thing happened to a war hero on his way to an NRA meeting and a West Point Speech . . .
On 11 January 2002, Joseph J. Foss of Scottsdale, Arizona . . .
On 11 January 2002, Joseph J. Foss of Scottsdale, Arizona — a major in the USMC during World War II, a colonel in the USAF during
the Korean War, and later a brigadier general with the South Dakota Air National Guard — was attempting to board an America West flight bound for Arlington, Virginia, when airport security held him for 45 minutes while they debated what to do with a variety of suspect items he had about his person. This 86-year-old former governor of South Dakota was on his way to attend a National Rifle Association meeting and to speak to cadets at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, and he carried with him his Medal of Honor, as well as a Medal of Honor commemorative nail file and a dummy bullet which had been made into a key fob.
Foss was awarded the medal by President Franklin D. Roosevelt during World War II after shooting down 26 enemy planes as a Marine fighter pilot in solo combat in the Pacific. He grew up in South Dakota — after the war he would become governor of that state — and took flying lessons as a young man, then went to war.
The story is here: http://snopes.com/military/medal.htm
I find myself disturbed by this, in ways not easily articulated.
He's just a man, and doesn't pretend to be more than that.
He's lived a real slice of life, but doesn't bandy it about.
He's someone to whom we all owe a debt of gratitude, but someone we recognize not at all.
His is a story of skill, valour, and courage, at a time when we needed it. He's the real deal. He's a man for whom I would hold the door.
He was even officially recognized for his contribution.
There was a time when, if he'd showed up in a bar or club or restaurant and the proprietor had seen that star, he'd have been well and properly served, and on that day he'd have been told, "save it, buddy, your money's no good here."
He's still that guy, but the country for which he fought barely remembers the struggle that riveted the attention of the whole nation.
The symbol of his exceptional service now arouses suspicion among functionaries whose sense of historical perspective is too shallow to appreciate his worth and their debt.
A man whose proper due is our respect and gratitude waits patiently while the highest honor than can be bestowed upon a defender of freedom is scrutinized as if it were the talisman of some dark art.
I just . . . can't . . . well, damn.
And he's not alone.
There are so many of his kind and there is so much we have to learn from them . . . and yet, I feel, we do not ask.
I pray we do not waste this wisdom, I pray enough of us can keep the flame alive.
Next time I'm at the range, I'll quietly render my own salute. Just me and my carbine. And a few ghosts.