A Nation’s Honor Flight Contributed by Russ Vaughn
Think of it this way: there’s a terrible epidemic raging which is taking 1200 American lives every day; no cure exists but there is a palliative treatment available which makes the passing of these thousands much less painful, affording them a way to go to their graves with a sense of fulfillment, a sense that, yes, they really did make a difference. Knowing this, would you want to see more of these 36,000 Americans who are dying every month have access to such palliation to ease their passing?
Of course you would and there is a way you can. These legions of dying are our WWII veterans, most, like my father-in-law, are now octogenarians, very fortunate octogenarians to be sure, who share the good fortune of having lived through the cataclysmic world events of the 1940’s where hundreds of thousands of their brothers gave up their lives to defend our world against fascism.
And they are among you, these dying survivors. You don’t see them as much any more as you once did, walking through Wal-Mart or sitting in the Legion hall with those brightly festooned baseball caps that proudly proclaimed their membership in that brotherhood of Americans who put their lives on hold and went off to exotic foreign shores to do the right thing. I love those caps and the men who wear them. They provide a foundation for the pride I feel in wearing my own Vietnam veteran caps. As the young would put it nowadays: been there, Dude, got the T-shirt.
So no, you don’t see them as much now because so many of them are enfeebled, confined to moving about in wheel chairs, or for far too many, confined to their beds, whether in their homes or in the many facilities that shelter our old. Oxygen devices anchor many of them to their beds or favorite recliners, limiting their range to that which is essential.
There is a common symptom of this epidemic shared by far too many of these old warriors: they have never seen the memorial erected in their honor on the National Mall in Washington D.C., more than fifty years after their service and sacrifice. As is so often and so sadly true, we Americans belatedly got around to building a memorial to the deserving, and a truly beautiful memorial it is, its circular design and generous use of water and fountains poignantly evoking the global, transoceanic theaters of war in which they served. I was there with my father-in-law on a gorgeous summer day a few weeks after it opened and I can assure you, as taxpayers, this time we got our money’s worth, although most of the construction costs came from private donations.
I said you could help and you can. Honor Flight, an organization created by an inspired physicians assistant working in a Veterans’ Affairs clinic, who recognized that far too many of these old veterans simply could not afford to make the trip to Washington to receive the thanks of their nation. That PA, retired Air Force captain, Earl Morse, has managed to scrabble together sufficient donations and volunteer assistance to transport more than 7,000 of these veterans to their long overdue memorial, cost free, affording them an opportunity to bask finally in the warmth of our nation’s gratitude before they leave us. Having been there with my own Dad, I assure you that as you move through the various campaign areas of the memorial, seeing and listening to the almost joyous camaraderie of these old warriors you quickly realize that this is a far better form of thanks than handing a sobbing widow a carefully folded flag with a murmured, “With the thanks of a grateful nation.”
Please, go to their website and give them what you can, money of course, but also your time. Volunteer some time to make this program grow. Start a local chapter, serve as an escort or simply spread the word. Most of these old warriors are not Internet savvy and have no idea such an organization exists. And they don’t live in environments where it is likely they will ever hear of Honor Flight unless we all make an effort to take it to them.
Remember, you won’t have to do it forever: we’re losing them at the rate of 1200 a day.
Editor's note: See also and .
Contributed by Russ Vaughn on January 28, 2008 at 01:52 PM in , |
Comments
Posted by:
Russ:
You make a compelling argument. And remind us of the sacrifice of our fathers and grandfathers in that second of world wars. I'll do what I can financially with the organization you mentioned. I lost my dad 15 years ago this November. He was a medic on Leyte Gulf and Okinawa with the 96th Infantry Division. He pretty much put his war years behind him when he started a family. Never talked about it much. But I think he would have liked to see the WW2 memorial in Washington. Thanks for getting the word out! And for reminding us all . . .
Posted by: | Jan 28, 2008 5:35:36 PM
Posted by: Son of Vets
My Great grand father served in WWI, my grandfather in WWII, and my father in Viet Nam.
On my father's side, I have one of the first american's wounded in an aireal bombing, and I have grown up loving my nation and every single man (and woman) serving or nation.
This charity has what little I can afford, and will have what time I am able to give