ShareMy great-great-grandfather in the Union Army, writing letters home to my great-grandmother, letters still in my family; my great-great uncle hanged as a 17-year-old by night riders for being a member of the Confederate Army (do y'all see why Kentucky was never reconstructed?); my great-grandfather gassed in World War I; my grandfather and his oldest son, my father, and all of his brothers, including my uncle David who served in Viet Nam; my first father-in-law, Charles Johnson in Viet Nam for two tours of duty; my college boyfriend Ken, also there; my former brother-in-law Steve, serving in Desert Storm; a legacy of service starting with my current father-in-law, JD Parker, and continuing unbroken through his son/my brother-in-law Jesse II, his wife Susan and her son Jesse III (both of the latter on active duty); another of my nephews, Chris, graduate of the United States Naval Academy; my teacher (albeit briefly) Bruce Weigl; my student, Denny; my friend Butch; Major Dale A. Johnson, whose POW bracelet I wore.
Air Force. Army. Coast Guard. Marines. Merchant Marines. Navy.
Thank you for what you've done, for the history you've provided.
Thank you for what you've done, for the history you've provided.
There's also the history of my first mother-in-law, Lilo, who spent her childhood in bomb shelters in Mannheim, learning to play chess in the dark; of my friend Mai, who escaped Saigon on one of the last flights out of the country; of my friend Jules (name changed) who left the service after being raped by his commanding officer. Those stories will wait for another day, but they're no less true than the ones above, and no less worthy of being remembered.
