I'm a reservist in the Air Force. A few years ago, I filled an assignment to our nation's capital. One afternoon, with a few hours to myself, I visited the new World War II Memorial. As I wandered about, I saw an elderly gentleman wearing a baseball cap with a military insignia -- obviously a veteran. He was frail and required help navigating the memorial's steps.
I was in uniform at the time. As I passed by, I snapped to, and gave him my best salute. "Sir, thank you," was all I said. Immediately, his eyes begin to mist up, and I walked on. It felt good to acknowledge the gentleman, but I wanted to be on my way. Even though I had spent quite a few years in service, I had never seen combat and was unlikely to ever do so. I feared the ensuing conversation.
Some time later, in March of this year, I walked into a Walmart near Atlanta. My world had changed since the day I saluted the old gentleman. I had actually been "called up." I left my family to serve overseas. I knew that my law practice would not survive my absence, but I had little choice. Now, on a rainy March morning, I found myself just arrived back in the U.S., dazed, injured and with nothing to wear other than my uniforms. I wanted some civilian clothes to wear home.
In the entry was the inevitable Walmart greeter -- a perky blonde lady about seventy years old. She clearly took her job very seriously. Spotting my uniform, she blazed across the floor of the lobby, took me by the arm and exclaimed, "what a pleasure to have you here!" She then dragged me back to her waiting post and pointed to a picture she had framed on the wall. It contained snapshots of several people in uniform. "These folks," she proudly told me, "are our employees who have been called into service." She then asked where I had been. When I told her that I had arrived from Afghanistan the previous day, she gave me a bear hug that belied her tiny stature and said, "God bless you ..." over and over.
I've always considered myself a tough guy. I did shed a few tears before I got on the plane to leave my family, but nothing more. Now, in the entryway to a Walmart in suburban Atlanta, I sobbed like a child. I hugged this dear lady whose name I never learned, and thanked her for her kindness. I also decided to wear my uniform home.
My father served his country in the Korean conflict. He never really received a welcome home. His war was not a popular one. Fortunately, he wasn't jeered or mistreated either -- that would come later. After many years, Americans are finally beginning to realize that you can honor the veteran and still disagree with your government. However, it may be too late. The veterans who served in Korea and Vietnam are dwindling in number. So much time has elapsed that a "thank-you" might not even have much effect, but I hope we try anyway.
I'm not trying to chastise anyone for this. It's part of our national history. If anything, I'm trying to congratulate my fellow citizens for recognizing past mistakes and not repeating them. Since my return, I've had so many people pat me on the back and give me a heart-felt "thanks" for my service. Nonetheless, I see ominous signs of complacency. For example, most school districts don't even observe the Veteran's Day holiday anymore. This was unthinkable a generation or two ago. Instead of observing a one-day holiday to honor the veterans, they observe a three-day holiday the preceding month to honor the teacher's union. Some things just don't make sense.
Our men and women in uniform are smart. They know that these are not popular wars that they're fighting. They accept that, but they also have a job to do. They work long, long hours under invariably uncomfortable conditions -- and sometimes very dangerous ones. They return home, many months later fatigued and often injured -- sometimes physically, sometimes emotionally. Some never come home.
Saluting that elderly gentleman cost me nothing, but I walked away just a bit taller. I had no idea what the salute must have meant to him -- until now. Those who serve our country ask so little in return for their service. I'm not asking you to surrender your personal resolve, or your right to disagree with your government. These are freedoms guaranteed by our Constitution -- freedoms that our military people will lay down their lives to protect.
But, sometime this week, please take a few seconds to thank a veteran for his or her service. You have no idea how much it means.
Hunt Garner was a practicing attorney in Ogden, and hopes to become one again. He is also a lieutenant colonel in the Air Force Reserves. A longer version of this column ran in today's edition of Currents, the Standard-Examiner's digital-only section on politics and culture.
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