Real Lives in Uniform

From an email my Dad sent me entitled "Thought you may appreciate."


Last week I was in Atlanta , Georgia attending a conference. While I was in the airport, returning home, I heard several people behind me beginning to clap and cheer. I immediately turned around and witnessed one of the greatest acts of patriotism I have ever seen. 

Moving through the terminal was a group of soldiers in their camos. As they began heading to their gate, everyone (well almost everyone) was abruptly to their feet with their hands waving and cheering. 


When I saw the soldiers, probably 30-40 of them, being applauded and cheered for, it hit me. I'm not alone. I'm not the only red-blooded American who still loves this country and supports our troops and their families.

Of course I immediately stopped and began clapping for these young unsung heroes who are putting their lives on the line everyday for us so we can go to school, work and home without fear or reprisal. 


Just when I thought I could not be more proud of my country or of our service men and women, a young girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old, ran up to one of the male soldiers. He kneeled down and said 'hi.'  

The little girl then asked him if he would give something to her daddy for her. 


The young soldier, who didn't look any older than maybe 22 himself, said he would try and what did she want to give to her Daddy. Then suddenly the little girl grabbed the neck of this soldier, gave him the biggest hug she could muster and then kissed him on the cheek.

The mother of the little girl, who said her daughter's name was Courtney, told the young soldier that her husband was a Marine and had been in Iraq for 11 months now. As the mom was explaining how much her daughter Courtney missed her father, the young soldier began to tear up.


When this temporarily single mom was done explaining her situation, all of the soldiers huddled together for a brief second. Then one of the other servicemen pulled out a military-looking walkie-talkie. They started playing with the device and talking back and forth on it..  

After about 10-15 seconds of this, the young soldier walked back over to Courtney, bent down and said this to her, 'I spoke to your daddy and he told me to give this to you.' He then hugged this little girl that he had just met and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He finished by saying 'your daddy told me to tell you that he loves you more than anything and he is coming home very soon.'

The mom at this point was crying almost uncontrollably and as the young soldier stood to his feet, he saluted Courtney and her mom. I was standing no more than 6 feet away from this entire event.  

As the soldiers began to leave, heading towards their gate, people resumed their applause. As I stood there applauding and looked around, there were very few dry eyes, including my own. That young soldier in one last act of selflessness, turned around and blew a kiss to Courtney with a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Cool story from Paul Harvey

Bad, Bad Ed O'Hare

The speckles in the Pacific night sky were bombers.  Nine twin-engine Japanese bombers, in formation, on course to their target:  the aircraft carrier Lexington.  Butch O'Hare could see them all clearly from the cockpit of his Grumman Wildcat F4F.  He was their lone-wolf pursuer, tagging along in the darkness.  If he did not seize the opportunity now to attack from the rear, his home base, the carrier Lexington, would be obliterated--sent to the ocean floor in fragments of twisted steel.  So Butch gripped the controls, palms sweating in anticipation of what he knew he must do.  The engine roared and the Wildcat lunged for its prey.  Before it was over, five of the nine Japanese bombers had been dumped into the Pacific.  Butch was ripping away at a sixth when he ran out of ammunition . . . and his comrades arrived to finish the job.  That was February 29, 1942, and the daring of Lieutenant Commander Edward Henry "Butch" O'Hare . . . the Navy's number-one World War II ace, the first naval aviator to ever win the Congressional Medal of Honor.  A year later, Butch went down in aerial combat.  But his home towners would not allow the memory of that heroic accomplishment to die.  So the next time you fly into Chicago's O'Hare International Airport, you'll know for whom it was named, and why.  What you don't yet know is that you'll be passing through a shrine . . . a monument to a very special kind of love . . .

…and that's THE REST OF THE STORY. 

Chicago.  The roaring Twenties.  The time and territory of gangster Al Capone.  And of all the Capone cronies . . . of all the unsavory soldiers who served in that army of crime . . . only one earned the nickname "Artful Eddie."  Eddie was the fast lawyer's fast lawyer.  Through his loopholes walked the most glamorous rogues in the gallery of gangland.  In 1923, Eddie himself was indicted on an illegal booze deal, two hundred thousand dollars' worth, but he won his own reversal.  Later, Al Capone picked up Eddie and put him in charge of the dog tracks nationwide.  You see, Eddie had already swiped the patent on the mechanical rabbit.  Pretty soon Artful Eddie, as the Capone syndicate representative, became known as the undisputed czar of illegal dog racing.  Nothing could have been easier to rig in favor of the mob.  Eight dogs running . . . overfeed seven . . . it was as simple as that.  In no time, Artful Eddie became a wealthy man.  Then, one day, for no apparent reason, Eddie squealed on Capone.  He wanted to go straight, he told the authorities.  What did they want to know?  The authorities were understandably skeptical.  Why should Artful Eddie, the pride of the underworld, seek to undermine his own carefully constructed dog-track empire?  Didn't Eddie know what it meant . . . to rat on the mob?  He knew.  Then, what was the deal?  What could he possibly hope to gain from aiding the government that he didn't already have?  Eddie had money.  Eddie had power.  Eddie had the pledged security of the one and only Al Capone.  What was the hitch?  That's when Artful Eddie revealed the hitch.  There was only one thing that really mattered to him.  He'd spent his life among the disreputable and despicable.  After all was said and done, there was only one who deserved a break.  His son.  So Eddie squealed . . . and the mob remembered . . . and in time, two shotgun blasts would silence him forever. Eddie never lived to see his dream come true. But it did. For as he cleansed the family name of the underworld stain, his son became acceptable to . . . was accepted by . . . Annapolis.  He became the flying ace who downed five bombers and went on to win the Congressional Medal of Honor.  So the next time you fly into Chicago's O'Hare International Airport, remember Butch O'Hare . . . and his daddy, Edward J. "Artful Eddie," the crook who one day went mysteriously straight . . . and paid with his own life for his son's chance to make good.

Is this thing on?

Well, I've never 'blogged' before, so I don't really know what I'm doing.  I've read plenty and hope this experience will teach me a thing or two about myself and about how this works.  Now to figure out how to add pics. 

Cheers.