Happy Birthday, Daddy!
This was my father at the age of 19 (in 1944). Had he not died in 1999, he would have been 91-years-old today. He, as many young men during WWII, left high school to join the Navy. I don't know many of the details of his service (those secrets he left only with my brother, Paul), but I do know he served in the South Pacific and was severely injured in a plane crash while serving as a bombardier (information his sister, Magdalene, shared with me). I know his service haunted him and I don't know if he ever found peace.
He was, however, profoundly proud of this country (I can't imagine how he'd feel about it these days) and know that he felt strongly about honoring the men and women who died as hero soldiers defending this country.
To the families, friends, and loved ones of those who gave their lives defending this country, my love and sincere sympathy. Memorial Day isn't about the beginning of the summer months. It's about them. Please don't forget that.