The Grumpy Side of 60
They made me proud
By Bob Robinson 

“Take a look around you, son. We all fought in World War II. Now… how in the (blank) do you think we ever managed to win that war?” 

I’m not going to swear to those exact words. I was sitting in a bus full of veterans. I didn’t take notes, but I knew I had to share this veteran’s comment. Then… 

“Be careful what you say, folks. We have a reporter onboard!” More laughter. 

These are fantastic people. Quality people. They are the American Legion Honor Guard that leads the Memorial Day Parade in Greenville each year. They provide Honor Guard services to the families of veterans when their loved ones have passed. 

More than that, they are from a generation that probably learned through experience, especially on the battlefield, not to take themselves too seriously. 

They teased each other, talked about getting back to the Legion for a beer. Mundane things… laughter… and enjoying a fellowship that only a select few will ever understand. 

Memorial Day holds a special place for me. My natural father died in service to his country during the Cold War. He was a B-47 pilot. My adopted father was a decorated WWII veteran. He flew B-29 bombers over Europe. He lived through the war, married my Mom and adopted three fatherless children. 

I’ve been told he was proud that I went to Texas A&M, at that time a military school that rivaled the academies. I didn’t go to ‘Nam, but I had two good friends who did. One, Rich Powell, made it home. One, Jim Neely, didn’t. 

I was ashamed of those in my generation who treated our returning heroes so horribly. 

I don’t remember paying much attention to Memorial Day in my youth. I was stupid. I didn’t get my head on straight until I was in my mid-twenties. That could be why I pay so much attention to today’s kids. I lost 10 years of my life being nuts… I don’t want young people today making the same mistakes I did. 

This year I was doing interviews. I went up to a GHS Band Wavette with a simple question… before she could answer I was surrounded by eight or nine kids. They wanted to get into the action… 

What does Memorial Day mean to you? 

They had the right answers, so I asked if they would come to the parade if they didn’t have to. These are 15, 16-year-old kids… 

Most said yes. A few said no, but changed it to yes when they saw the look on my face. There was one holdout who, among giggles, said… 

“If I get up in time!” 

“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon!” 

“It’s summertime!!!!” 

More giggles. 

As I followed the parade through town, I passed three young women in the circle holding signs, just as they did last year and the year before… “Thank veterans. Never forget. God Bless America.” 

I haven’t missed a Memorial Day ceremony since I moved to Darke County. Thanks to Fred Dean, for the past several years I’ve been a guest of our American Legion heroes from the cemetery back to town. I don’t deserve the honor but I’m grateful for it. It’s a long walk. 

They always drop me off at Third Street. This year two girls waved at me and said “Thank you for your service!” 

“Not me… them,” I said, pointing at the bus. They turned, yelled and waved to a dozen veterans driving off… “Thank you for your service!” 

I knew the girls from subbing. One was a South student, Hannah Brown; the other a junior high student, MacKenzie Bryant. 

Thank you, Hannah and MacKenzie. You make me proud. 

Published courtesy of The Early Bird