BY STEVEN ANDERSON
What do you do when you reach 50 and look back on a life of "wasted time" and delayed ambition?
You know the drill. You go to college having little idea as to what you want to do. You get a degree in business or something else. After school, somebody knows somebody and you are introduced to a business that consumes the next 25 to 30 years of your life.
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Steven Anderson |
Then it happens.
"We are sorry but due to the downturn in our business we have to let you go."
Suddenly, all the illusions you had come to believe about your value and security are torn away.
Eventually, you search your past for the fire that burned in your youthful heart. Perhaps that knowledge will guide your path onward.
Mine was the Vietnam War generation. Many men of my age went to fight, and many died.
I did not go. I attempted to join the Air Force but flunked the physical.
The fact that I did not serve has gnawed at me all these years. I suppose it’s a little bit like the guilt many who did serve feel about their brothers-in-arms who didn’t come back.
I have always loved my country. Yes, I got caught up in the criticism of our country over Vietnam. We had to be in the wrong, with pictures of our B-52’s dropping bombs on people wearing sandals.
Still, when you take out the politics and the homefront pontificating as to whether we were right or wrong to be there, real men and women were risking their lives.
The fact remains they are our first line of defense. How do you get this into your heart? How do we remember those people living and long dead who paid the price that we might be safe?
As the brave men and women of our armed forces are risking all for our flag and country, I am reminded of that part of my soul left behind. Although it may seem corny, my generation was raised on heroes bigger than life. For a man schooled in my ethics to a large extent by the Lone Ranger, there are tales of honor, bravery and selflessness to be told. My lifelong study of history as well as my commitment and deeply held belief that our freedom has been preserved at a high price yearns to speak out.
Sadly, many of our soldiers will not come home from this battle against terrorism. I honor the bravery that will have countless examples over the next few months or years.
Perhaps, in my small way, I can honor this bravery by telling my family and friends about the many examples of this type of bravery from our history lost in the din of popular culture and a de-emphasis on U.S. history in our schools.
Stories of bravery and sacrifice: the long, cold winter at Valley Forge; the terrible carnage at Antietam, our nation’s bloodiest day; the bravery of the Yanks "over there" on the Western Front; the Marines holding Henderson Field on Guadalcanal while Japanese naval guns pounded their foxholes in the dead of night; the terror of the German onslaught of the Bulge; and countless others.
All littered with brave American dead.
So, at 51, my small contribution to what is unfolding in the mountains of Afghanistan is to search my heart for the means and opportunity to tell stories of our brave soldiers whose courage and love for country has given us the freedom that is being attacked today.
The bills will have to be paid, and this path may not contribute a dime to that daily necessity. As I go about my life and find that new job, I have acknowledged a truth in me that must be lived out. That truth that I can express my patriotism and love of my country by reminding others of the real human price paid.
God bless America!
Steven Anderson lives in Clinton.
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