While thinking about our nation´s upcoming big birthday - 250 strong - it dawned on your humble scribe that there are as many ways to celebrate the day as there are different folks in this melting pot country of ours. Doesn´t matter if you´re a hard-boiled truck driver from Dixie, a naturalist from Northern California, or a restauranteur on New York´s Lower East Side, July 4 with all its pomp, circumstance and fireworks is a day for all Americans to celebrate. It doesn´t matter if you´ve been here five minutes, five months, five years or five generations, the red, white, and blue are about who, not just you.
Which brings me to a topic touched on in this space previously, but which bears repeating these days; and that is the sacrifices made by men and women alike who were standout athletes, but who nonetheless decided to enlist. Heroic people who gave the last full measure of devotion to their country. Heroes like the Buffalo Bills´ Bob Kalsu, who was 25 when his unit came under attack during a North Vietnamese mortar attack, and was killed in the summer of 1970. Three years earlier, former Cleveland Brown Don Steinbrunner perished after his plane was shot down during a mission. And you may recall the story of Cardinal´s safety Pat Tillman, who volunteered for Army Ranger duty after the attacks of 9/11; he died when he was killed by friendly fire in the spring of 2004. He was 27. We remember these men because not one of them had to go; they chose to go, despite being financially well off. In Tillman´s case, he´d just turned down a $3.6 million-dollar deal with the Cardinals. No, for all of them they felt it was their duty to serve, a concept many these days fail to grasp among the bombast of giant flags, loud music, and conspicuous arenas.
Then there´s the story of Theodore. A skinny kid from San Diego, Theodore loved his job. Was damn good at it too. So much so he was voted the best at his job for the first half of the 20th cntury. But during that time, life interrupted and a world war broke out - so Theodore, and many of his work mates, enlisted in the armed services. Theodore chose to be a pilot, but he was not just some famous guy in a plane; no, he was good at this job, too. Commissioned as a second lieutenant and earned the distinction of being a naval aviator. After the war, Theodore returned to his former job and led his team to a league championship. But life - and duty - called once more; this time it was Korea, so 33-year-old Theodore rejoined his Marine Corps unit, and onæ again distinguished himself in the field of battle. So much so that another famous Marine Corps pilot insisted Theodore be his wing man. The pilot? Fellow name of John Glenn, you may have heard of him. By now you may have guessed Theodore´s identity, except you know him by Ted - as in Ted Williams - the greatest hitter ever to play professional baseball, who lost five years of his prime to military service. These men who made these sacrifices never sought glory or fame. Some were already famous. No, they just felt a calling to do the right thing, a trait often lost in today´s cynical world of polarization.
So, this July, amid the sparklers and beer, take a moment and reflect on the guys - and gals - who embody the true spirit of the Fourth, because they deserve your honor and respect.
I know I will.
