Holiday Thoughts & Reflections
Certainly the holidays are a time of joy, a time for family and friends, a time to be thankful for all the good things that we have. For me the holidays are also a time of reflection. I am very thankful for the country where I live and the freedoms accorded me. I pray that our leaders will come to their senses and recognize the folly of their ways and stop using war and killing as an instrument of foreign policy. I pray that our troops will return home safe and those that have lost their lives or have been injured that those sacrifices will not be in vain. Every Christmas eve I cannot help but think about a classmate of mine who was 
killed in Vietnam 1967. I was not friends with Charles Sorrow and when I heard that he was died I was sad, but at the time not particularly affected by it. In fact it was not until September 1990 that I realized the impact of his death. My family and I were visiting the Vietnam Memorial in Washington. Charles was the only person that I knew who had been killed in Vietnam, so I decided to look up his name. I found out he had been killed on Christmas eve 1967. Needless to say it was a very emotional moment, in fact one of the most emotional moments of my life. I could not help but cry, cry tears of sorrow for his family, tears of frustration for the waste of a young life in a futile war, tears of thankfulness that here are Charles Sorrows who are will to fight for their country. Every Christmas eve I think about Charles Sorrow and reflect and give thanks for all the good things that we have.
killed in 
1 Comments:
My dad was a D-Day vet. His grew up during the depression, and it was even tougher for him because his dad had passed away. He dropped out of high school and joined to military to send money home to his mom. He joined the cavalry because it was the only way a poor kid was going to learn how to ride a horse. I have a picture on the wall of him as an 18 yr. old kid with 60 others on horse back. A year later they mechanized his unit, and at 19 my dad was dodging bullets at Omaha beach. All his medals were thrown in a box, and I never heard the full story until his cavalry buddies told me after he had passed away. I guess he wanted to shield us from the horrors of war. Of those 60 riders in his troop, 8 made it home from World War 2. Now there are only 2 alive. I think I'll drop them a line now.
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