A year ago, I met this little girl when I traveled with an Honor Flight group from Montana to D.C. She was 4 and a half at the time and walked up to every World War II veteran getting off that plane to shake their hands.
Her grandparents told me they try to greet as many Honor Flights and that she thanks all of them for their service.
She may not fully understand the greatness of her actions, but most of us who saw her greet those veterans were moved.
When I was an intern in Fredericksburg, Virginia, I covered a Memorial Day ceremony in blazing heat. Standing next to me was a young Marine, in his full dress uniform. I knew that if I was hot, he was sweltering. During that ceremony, he stood so still and so quiet, but I saw tears run down his cheek.
Afterward, I talked to him for a few minutes. He told me that his high school friend had been killed in combat the year before and he was there to honor him. He told me he was planning to get out of the military that summer and possibly become a cop. He was about my age.
My story that day was about that young Marine. I was later called a racist by the African American reverend who gave the invocation because I hadn't included his remarks in my story. I was too young and inexperienced to simply say "today wasn't about you." I saw no race, or religion or gender that day, I only saw a Marine grieving his fallen friend.
The next year, that Marine was killed in combat. He had reenlisted while deployed. He left behind a young wife.
Today is about him.
I knew him only for a few minutes, but he made a lasting impression.
In my years as a reporter, I've met young men who were later killed. I've sat in the living rooms of grieving mothers telling me about their sons. I've sat in the back of a church covering the funeral of a soldier killed in action who left behind a wife and young sons. I've had to call a man I'd only met once to talk about his son who had been killed in battle.
Today is for them.
Today is for those men and women I never knew and those I did know briefly. It's for the families they left behind.
Maybe it's because I've talked to people who experienced such loss, maybe it's because at any given time, it could have been one of mine.
It could have been my grandfathers, my uncles, my aunt, my parents, my cousin, my hometown friends, my boyfriend. All of them have served and all of them have come home. But the story could have been much different and perhaps that's why I cry during every single Memorial Day and Veterans Day concert on PBS and when I'm reporting, I struggle to keep it together and then go home and cry.
Today is for them.
So on this Memorial Day, let's commit to be better.
Let's engage in our communities. Let's participate in our government. Let's learn about those who came before us and respect what they did. Let's take a break from The Bachelor and the Kardashians and Bieber fever and consider who the real celebrities are. They were at the Ardennes and D-Day and the Battle of the Bulge and Iwo Jima and the Frozen Chosin and Khe Sahn and Fallujah, among many others.
Let's take a break from our #firstworldproblems and remember that we're allowed to have the lives we have because of these men and women.
Today is for them.
Let's do more than say thank you for their service, let's show them that they fought for a nation worth defending. Let's support the organizations that help them in meaningful ways, let's work to make our communities, our country, better instead of casting blame or throwing up our hands in frustration or avoiding the conversation all together. War is terrible and the politics are awful, but when their nation has asked, Americans have risen to the occasion.
Let's commit to being better and doing better, because when we have asked them for more, they gave their all.
Today is for them.
Some recommended reading for this Memorial Day:
Don't Thank Me For My Service from a leader at Team Rubicon. Those guys do great work.
Kim Dozier's Breathing the Fire on surviving a car bombing in Iraq, where she was reporting for CBS, on Memorial Day 2006. Her colleagues, translator and the soldier they were filming were all killed. Proceeds of Kim's book go to organizations like Fischer House.
A special report on Arlington Cemetery's 150th anniversary by my friend and former colleague.
Life lessons from the commander of U.S. Special Operations Command.
European landscapes a century after WW1.
I could go on, but I'll leave you with one of my favorite bands and one of their most powerful songs.
Her grandparents told me they try to greet as many Honor Flights and that she thanks all of them for their service.
She may not fully understand the greatness of her actions, but most of us who saw her greet those veterans were moved.
When I was an intern in Fredericksburg, Virginia, I covered a Memorial Day ceremony in blazing heat. Standing next to me was a young Marine, in his full dress uniform. I knew that if I was hot, he was sweltering. During that ceremony, he stood so still and so quiet, but I saw tears run down his cheek.
Afterward, I talked to him for a few minutes. He told me that his high school friend had been killed in combat the year before and he was there to honor him. He told me he was planning to get out of the military that summer and possibly become a cop. He was about my age.
My story that day was about that young Marine. I was later called a racist by the African American reverend who gave the invocation because I hadn't included his remarks in my story. I was too young and inexperienced to simply say "today wasn't about you." I saw no race, or religion or gender that day, I only saw a Marine grieving his fallen friend.
The next year, that Marine was killed in combat. He had reenlisted while deployed. He left behind a young wife.
Today is about him.
I knew him only for a few minutes, but he made a lasting impression.
In my years as a reporter, I've met young men who were later killed. I've sat in the living rooms of grieving mothers telling me about their sons. I've sat in the back of a church covering the funeral of a soldier killed in action who left behind a wife and young sons. I've had to call a man I'd only met once to talk about his son who had been killed in battle.
Today is for them.
Today is for those men and women I never knew and those I did know briefly. It's for the families they left behind.
Maybe it's because I've talked to people who experienced such loss, maybe it's because at any given time, it could have been one of mine.
It could have been my grandfathers, my uncles, my aunt, my parents, my cousin, my hometown friends, my boyfriend. All of them have served and all of them have come home. But the story could have been much different and perhaps that's why I cry during every single Memorial Day and Veterans Day concert on PBS and when I'm reporting, I struggle to keep it together and then go home and cry.
Today is for them.
So on this Memorial Day, let's commit to be better.
Let's engage in our communities. Let's participate in our government. Let's learn about those who came before us and respect what they did. Let's take a break from The Bachelor and the Kardashians and Bieber fever and consider who the real celebrities are. They were at the Ardennes and D-Day and the Battle of the Bulge and Iwo Jima and the Frozen Chosin and Khe Sahn and Fallujah, among many others.
Let's take a break from our #firstworldproblems and remember that we're allowed to have the lives we have because of these men and women.
Today is for them.
Let's do more than say thank you for their service, let's show them that they fought for a nation worth defending. Let's support the organizations that help them in meaningful ways, let's work to make our communities, our country, better instead of casting blame or throwing up our hands in frustration or avoiding the conversation all together. War is terrible and the politics are awful, but when their nation has asked, Americans have risen to the occasion.
Let's commit to being better and doing better, because when we have asked them for more, they gave their all.
Today is for them.
Some recommended reading for this Memorial Day:
Don't Thank Me For My Service from a leader at Team Rubicon. Those guys do great work.
Kim Dozier's Breathing the Fire on surviving a car bombing in Iraq, where she was reporting for CBS, on Memorial Day 2006. Her colleagues, translator and the soldier they were filming were all killed. Proceeds of Kim's book go to organizations like Fischer House.
A special report on Arlington Cemetery's 150th anniversary by my friend and former colleague.
Life lessons from the commander of U.S. Special Operations Command.
European landscapes a century after WW1.
I could go on, but I'll leave you with one of my favorite bands and one of their most powerful songs.
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