"Now I can say good-bye to them..."

Getting Veterans to Washington to see their Memorials is probably one of the most fulfilling things things I have been associated with for a long time.  The Shelby County Vets To DC Committee is a collection of the most fantastic people I have ever met.  They come from all walks of life, with very diversified backgrounds.  But they all have a singular focus -- doing whatever it takes to get these Veterans to DC.  We have made four trips as of this writing, and are well on our way to putting the finishing touches on trip #5 -- that equates to a little over 125 Vets (and an equal number of Caregivers) who have gone.  There have been some hiccups along the way, but working with such a professional group of volunteers, things have appeared flawless and the Vets have had a wonderful time.

There are a lot of really great things that happen on each trip, and lots of stories we hear during those two days.  We have a get-together Saturday night after the dinner and just sit around and talk, tell stories and get to really know each other.  But some of the stories aren't directly told, but picked up by keeping your eyes and ears open during the day.  This is one of those stories.

Frank is a World War II Veteran, and as you can see, he is getting up there in age.  Well, we weren't sure if he would be able to make the trip because he requires oxygen all the time and cannot walk much.  Well, Judy, our nurse, made the suggestion that we contact him and his caregiver (Bob) and see who his oxygen supplier is.  We did that and since they are a national company, they were able to put a tank at the hotel for him and supply some portable units for the trip and the day of sightseeing.  We also get the use of new wheelchairs from Apria Home Healthcare so getting around was no big deal.

But the real story is two-fold with Frank.  The picture below was taken at the WWII Memorial by the Anzio section.  Frank fought at Anzio and lost some good friends in those battles.  He told Bob that he was so grateful to be at the Memorial,  and he felt that he could now say good-bye to his buddies.  Certainly wouldn't have learned anything like that if he hadn't made that trip.

The Second part of the story was at the Korean War Memorial.  We have a little ceremony (wreath laying, reading of the names of those from Shelby County who were killed in that war, and playing taps) at each of the two Memorials.  Well, as we finished reading out the names of those who were killed there and were getting ready to play Taps and render honors, Frank (on right below) had Bob help him up out of the wheelchair so he could stand (center, below) and salute.  Boy are those special moments -- not big things, but really, really special.

In the minds of men, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown.  Experience is a hard teacher. She gives the test first -- some learn and live and some don't and die.  And in between, there are doors holding back floods of memories.

Hooah