

| Subject: | Re: One more veterans day NVC |
| From: | Roger Whittaker |
| Date: | Sun, 11 Nov 2007 18:24:06 -0800 |
indeed ... well said On Nov 11, 2007 6:14 PM, Pensioner <al_knoll@pacbell.net> wrote: > I post this from time to time. The number at the end has been adjusted > downward from 250,000 to the most recent estimate. Some of these veterans > need a handout some just a hand up. Hire a vet, he's already paid. > > >>>>> > > Soldier in the rain. > > It had been a long time since he'd heard that eagle scream. > > It had rained hard at the river camp where he and others had spent the > night. In the drizzle before dawn, he wrapped his sleeping bag in the > plastic tarp and gathered his things. It was only a couple of miles to a > corner out of the rain near the park. He stumbled coming up the slippery > bank and as he picked himself, up the mud on his tattered clothes brought > back memories of mud in another place, now so far away. He wandered > through downtown, but at this early hour few noticed the bedraggled figure > with his bedroll and muddy clothes. The corner near the convention center > would be dry just across from the park and the sun would warm things up a > bit he thought as he crossed the trolley track. Memories of long ago were > powerful today as he thought of friends whose faces would never age like > his > had over the years. His reflection in the glass door of the auditorium > embarrassed him and he stopped to try to straighten his hair and brush off > the mud. Just around the corner, he set down his bedroom and leaned back > up against the building. The parade would be by in a couple of hours and > he > could warm up here while he waited. There was a little bit left in the > bottle and it felt good going down. As the commute traffic along the > street next to the capitol picked up for the morning, the sun peeked out > and illuminated his corner behind the hedge. He remembered last year > when > he and his buddy had shared the corner. His friend had died that winter > from alcohol and abuse, this year he was alone. From inside the tattered > jacket he took three grimy medals and carefully pinned them on. The > street > was quiet now, closed off for the parade. He sat in the corner and > thought > how things had gone these past years when he couldn't hold a job and lost > his home. Dark images from the past had stolen his resolve and ambition > and pulled him down to where he was today. He could hear the parade > music > as they turned onto the street a block or so away. Wiping away some > inner > rain, he stood up and gently took an old green hat out of his bag. He > smoothed his tangled hair as best he could and put the beret on at just > the > right angle. As he stepped from behind the hedge towards the street he > could see the flag bearers at the front as they marched toward him. The > sparse crowd at the curb moved aside as he approached. When the flag drew > close, he snapped to attention and held a razor sharp salute as it passed. > Sometimes all you have left is your pride and your memories. He'd made it > to one more Veterans Day. > > The Veterans Administration estimates there are over 175,000 homeless > veterans in the land of the free this winter. > > (c) Al Knoll 1999, 2007 > > <<<<< > -- roger w There are two kinds of jobs in the world: Picking up garbage and telling people things. Successful people do both, with the same good attitude. (riw) ----------------------------------------------------------- View the growing list of video work at: http://one.revver.com/watch/376349 http://one.revver.com/watch/357909/qt/affiliate/10 http://one.revver.com/watch/345572/qt http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7135104650374818257 http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3259745150182742364
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