Veterans Day always stirs something deep within me. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a home where service to our country wasn’t just respected—it was revered. My dad used to say his years in the Army were among the happiest of his life. He’d light up talking about his time in the US Army, the friendships he made and the discipline that shaped him. He was wildly obsessed with military protocol—everything from how the flag should be folded to which military canon is used at funerals versus those honoring dignitaries. I never knew that civilians should never, ever salute, or that juniors initiate a salute and seniors return it. Or that a flag draping a casket should never be wrinkled. But my daddy sure knew.
He would send my brother or me out to bring in the flag if it started to rain. I STILL do that to this day. He taught me that our flag should NEVER touch the ground and that is should never be flying at night unless there’s a light shining upon it. I already knew the difference between a 21 gun salute and a three round volley by the time I was 15. It was always about uniform, rank, and tradition and I’m still as fascinated by it all as he was. When they played Taps at his funeral in 2017, I could not help but imagine him standing over the soldiers folding his flag with such great precision, to make certain they were doing it correctly. He’d have approved.
remembering our family vets
That sense of reverence ran through both sides of my family. My mom’s great uncles served in World War II, and I have so many pictures of them in Europe in boxes I STILL need to go through. My dad’s older brothers served, as well. My Uncle Bob served on the USS Hornet during WW2. He died when I was only 10, otherwise my inner history buff would have gladly asked him about it. I have several cousins, including Uncle Bob’s son, my late cousin Terry and my cousin Doug, who saw combat in Vietnam. I have so many family and friends and even a high school sweetheart who served in every branch and war since then, through the years. In our house, anyone who wore a uniform is treated with a level of respect that goes beyond words.
“You’ll Start as an Officer”
When I graduated from college, my dad begged me to consider joining the military. “You’ll start as an officer,” he said proudly, as if the stars had already been stitched on my shoulder. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d taken his advice. Truth be told, I don’t think I would’ve lasted long. I might have the thick skin—but I’m not sure I could’ve stood at attention while someone shouted in my face! Still, there’s a small part of me that wishes I’d known what it felt like to serve—to be part of something that meaningful and disciplined.
One of my favorite movies has always been An Officer and a Gentleman. There’s something about watching that transformation of Zack Mayo (and especially his struggling female friend, Petty Officer 2 Della Serra) —the grit, the pride, the honor—that never fails to move me. It captures everything my dad taught me about duty, respect, and self-respect.
Do We Still Feel It?
I sometimes wonder if today’s generation will carry that same reverence forward—the kind of bone-deep respect that we were raised with. Generation Jones kids can still recall wearing dog tags to honor POWs being held hostage during Viet Nam. We were only kids, but we saw POW flags and many of us saw our moms scanning the newspapers every day to look up names of the fallen soldiers. I remember once when my mom said a name of a neighborhood boy much older than me. She sighed deeply and quietly said “Oh no…” Even as a child I knew what that meant. Thankfully, our children don’t remember such a time. And even in times of peace, our military puts his and her needs aside for the good of our country. They pick up and move at a moment’s notice, often being separated from family on major holidays. It’s a sacrifice they give freely because there is not a draft requiring all people to enlist, like there was when we were kids. But either way, I sincerely hope our younger generations will always honor our vets with the same level of respect, long after my generation dies away because no matter what era we live in or what political opinion we hold, our freedoms are still protected by those willing to sacrifice theirs. And all veterans will always deserve our unyielding thanks.
With Gratitude
So today, and every day, I honor all who have served—past, present, and future. Every branch, every rank, every man and woman who ever raised their hand and said “I will.” Thank you for your courage. Thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for your service. # # #
