Chance Encounter With A Hero

Every once in a while, if you're really lucky, you get the chance to meet someone special. Today was that day for me and Lu. Let me preface this by saying that I've met celebrities before. Mostly it's been Meh. The only exception was when I met Evel Knievel. Until today. Today I met Samuel Tom Holiday at a local restaurant.Who is Samuel Tom Holiday?

He was sitting at the next table with a woman I believe is his daughter. He was wearing a Marine Corps cap with Navajo Code Talker printed on the brim. I was stunned. I watched and waited until they were done with their meal and getting up to leave. Then, with a certain amount of trepidation, I approached him and introduced myself (I'd have paid for that meal but they were already in the settling up phase when we sat down). I asked him if he was an actual code talker and he confirmed that he was and gave me the above business card. All I could get out was "Thank you Sir" and "It's an honor to meet you" while shaking his hand. He actually made the rounds of the restaurant afterward, talking to folks and shaking more hands. I've still got a huge smile plastered on my face from the encounter.

Go here and take a look at his website. It's fascinating. There were only ever 280 Navajo Code Talkers and there can't be more than a bare handful left. Soon, all to soon, they will be gone forever. It was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity and for this veteran and admirer of the honorable it was one of the highlights of my life.

Thank you Mister Holiday for your valorous service and your kindness to an awestruck fanboy. I will remember you always. It may not be acceptable to give a 'Semper Fi!' from an old Soldier but I'm going to do it anyway and extend it to you on behalf of every Marine who will never get the chance I got. You and your brothers will never be forgotten.

Awesome.

Six

Jars Of Sand

I wanted to post about this day in history but so many better have already done so. I do want to remember and honor those men in my own small way.

My lovely and talented daughter, the DO, was in Hungary for a couple of years. Stationed there with her AF husband and my two wonderful grandchildren. Last year they decided they'd best take advantage of their situation and visit all the places they'd always wanted to see. One of those places was the D-Day beaches. I've always wanted to go and she's sworn that one day she will take me but in the interim, in case I never make that trip, I had a request. Some sand. Just some sand from those beaches where American soldiers taught the world what the true price of freedom was and then paid it. In cash.

Two small bottles containing some sand from beaches half a world away. Utah in Red. Omaha in Blue. The sand isn't the same that those men scrambled over and died upon. No, that sand, like their lives, has been washed away to be replaced with the new. Their blood and sweat never stained these grains. But their spirit remains. It is as tangible as the kiss of wind on my face. I dare not touch it. I am unworthy. But I can sit and hold the bottles containing the remembrance of valor and struggle and death and victory and imagine and remember and honor. June 6th, 1944. Freedom's victory.

They did not die in vain. This country shall not fall. Their spirit remains alive in America today. I can feel it. There is still honor and courage and sacrifice and duty. We shall keep those flames alive. In their memory.

Two small bottles of sand from beaches half a world away. Collected and presented to me by a daughter who knows and understands because she has herself served. They are priceless to me.

Keep the Faith my friends.

Six