Thread: Ever Think About Who Packs Your Parachute?

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Ever Think About Who Packs Your Parachute?

Written by Danny Calhoun
Wednesday, March 02, 2005

AMERICAN DREAM
Recently I participated in a parade and ceremony at a large Veteran’s Hospital. The event was planned to honor those veterans confined to the hospital. Some who had been wounded so severely that they would spend their entire lives in the hospital. We also planned to attend a barbecue after the parade, put on by a local veteran’s organization for the veterans. The parade consisted of approximately 200 motorcycles and other vehicles plus several marching units.

I was driving my fancy SUV with 2 full sized flags, the American and POW/MIA, mounted on a rack on the rear. As I slowly wound my way along the parade route I had the windows up, the air conditioner on and Willie Nelson playing on the stereo. I was in a way at that instance living part of my American dream. A beautiful wife and 5 daughters, living in a nice home in a good part of town, driving a sleek 4 wheel drive vehicle, enough money put aside to ensure a comfortable standard of living, the time and ability to participate in events like this and the opportunity to share fellowship and comradeship with my friends. Life had indeed been good to me.

As we paraded down a tree lined street I saw veterans in wheel chairs sitting on the sidewalks and on the lawns. Most of them were waving flags at us and cheering. Employees of the hospital, family and friends surrounded a few of the veterans while many sat there watching us alone. As we approached the first curve I saw a lone man in a motorized wheel chair with no expression on his face, or in his eyes. As I approached him he used his arms to raise himself, as best as he could, to a position of attention, as a salute to the flags on my SUV.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by a very deep sense of guilt. I know I worked hard, sacrificed and saved my money so that I may enjoy my small piece of the American dream. The hard work suddenly seemed diminished by the frail and somber man, in a wheel chair, saluting me as I drove by him. I wondered, was my life part of his American dream? A part he will never know. A part taken from him because of his service to his country. If it was then I felt I should be ashamed of flaunting it in front of him, especially since his sacrifices had made it possible for me to obtain what I had. I realized that I had also served my country, but why had he been chosen and not me, to pay such a higher price for that service.

Maybe his SUV had been replaced by a cumbersome four-wheeled replacement for limbs and muscles that no longer work. He had given his mobility at the risk of his very life, so that others and I may live our own dreams. Maybe his home was the VA Hospital dorm. Maybe his family was the hospital staff and fellow veterans. Maybe he would never know his American dream. His presence suddenly became very humbling to me.

I waved to him as shyly as I think I’ve ever been. He acknowledged my gesture with a nod of his head and a smile. Tears started forming in my eyes and I felt relived that he seemed to understand that I was there to honor and thank him for the opportunities he had given me. I sincerely hope that I speak for everyone participating in that parade. The intent of parading past him, and the other veterans, was a part of the American dream they had fought to unselfishly preserve for us, it was an act of gratitude and honor.

I am glad that I can honor these gentle heroes, Americans who are willing to put their lives on the line to protect me, my family and the millions of other people they don’t even know. I am proud to live in a country where caring people do this voluntarily and ask nothing for their sacrifices. Unfortunately they seldom receive anything.

I was saddened by the realization that these brave men would never know the simple joys that make up most of our American dreams.

This article is not to clear my conscious for the feelings of guilt I spoke about. I will always carry that guilt. It is being written to all those who have paid such a heavy price to serve our country, past, present and future. To each of them I ask you to please not take my actions of parading past you negatively. Look at me as I pass by, living my American dream, and be proud that you were the one who gave it to me.

I will in return live my life in a manner fitting of the opportunities you have given me. I will live my life giving back so that others may obtain their piece of the American dream. I will also do all in my power to ensure that your sacrifices will never be forgotten.

When was the last time you took an inventory of your life and said a prayer for those who sacrificed so much so that you also could live your "American Dream?"

We owe them so much.

God bless our veterans and God bless America.

But then, that’s just my opinion.

About the Writer: Danny Calhoun lives in Somerset, KY with his wife and two daughters. He is a retired L.A. County Deputy Sheriff, and a veteran of the U.S. Navy. He designed and built the POW-MIA Memorial Gardens in Somerset. And, he does lots of things for veterans that he wouldn't allow us to mention.

http://www.chronwatch.com/content/conte ... catcode=11

Ever Think About Who Packs Your Parachute?

Written by Danny Calhoun
Wednesday, March 02, 2005

AMERICAN DREAM
Recently I participated in a parade and ceremony at a large Veteran’s Hospital. The event was planned to honor those veterans confined to the hospital. Some who had been wounded so severely that they would spend their entire lives in the hospital. We also planned to attend a barbecue after the parade, put on by a local veteran’s organization for the veterans. The parade consisted of approximately 200 motorcycles and other vehicles plus several marching units.

I was driving my fancy SUV with 2 full sized flags, the American and POW/MIA, mounted on a rack on the rear. As I slowly wound my way along the parade route I had the windows up, the air conditioner on and Willie Nelson playing on the stereo. I was in a way at that instance living part of my American dream. A beautiful wife and 5 daughters, living in a nice home in a good part of town, driving a sleek 4 wheel drive vehicle, enough money put aside to ensure a comfortable standard of living, the time and ability to participate in events like this and the opportunity to share fellowship and comradeship with my friends. Life had indeed been good to me.

As we paraded down a tree lined street I saw veterans in wheel chairs sitting on the sidewalks and on the lawns. Most of them were waving flags at us and cheering. Employees of the hospital, family and friends surrounded a few of the veterans while many sat there watching us alone. As we approached the first curve I saw a lone man in a motorized wheel chair with no expression on his face, or in his eyes. As I approached him he used his arms to raise himself, as best as he could, to a position of attention, as a salute to the flags on my SUV.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by a very deep sense of guilt. I know I worked hard, sacrificed and saved my money so that I may enjoy my small piece of the American dream. The hard work suddenly seemed diminished by the frail and somber man, in a wheel chair, saluting me as I drove by him. I wondered, was my life part of his American dream? A part he will never know. A part taken from him because of his service to his country. If it was then I felt I should be ashamed of flaunting it in front of him, especially since his sacrifices had made it possible for me to obtain what I had. I realized that I had also served my country, but why had he been chosen and not me, to pay such a higher price for that service.

Maybe his SUV had been replaced by a cumbersome four-wheeled replacement for limbs and muscles that no longer work. He had given his mobility at the risk of his very life, so that others and I may live our own dreams. Maybe his home was the VA Hospital dorm. Maybe his family was the hospital staff and fellow veterans. Maybe he would never know his American dream. His presence suddenly became very humbling to me.

I waved to him as shyly as I think I’ve ever been. He acknowledged my gesture with a nod of his head and a smile. Tears started forming in my eyes and I felt relived that he seemed to understand that I was there to honor and thank him for the opportunities he had given me. I sincerely hope that I speak for everyone participating in that parade. The intent of parading past him, and the other veterans, was a part of the American dream they had fought to unselfishly preserve for us, it was an act of gratitude and honor.

I am glad that I can honor these gentle heroes, Americans who are willing to put their lives on the line to protect me, my family and the millions of other people they don’t even know. I am proud to live in a country where caring people do this voluntarily and ask nothing for their sacrifices. Unfortunately they seldom receive anything.

I was saddened by the realization that these brave men would never know the simple joys that make up most of our American dreams.

This article is not to clear my conscious for the feelings of guilt I spoke about. I will always carry that guilt. It is being written to all those who have paid such a heavy price to serve our country, past, present and future. To each of them I ask you to please not take my actions of parading past you negatively. Look at me as I pass by, living my American dream, and be proud that you were the one who gave it to me.

I will in return live my life in a manner fitting of the opportunities you have given me. I will live my life giving back so that others may obtain their piece of the American dream. I will also do all in my power to ensure that your sacrifices will never be forgotten.

When was the last time you took an inventory of your life and said a prayer for those who sacrificed so much so that you also could live your "American Dream?"

We owe them so much.

God bless our veterans and God bless America.

But then, that’s just my opinion.

About the Writer: Danny Calhoun lives in Somerset, KY with his wife and two daughters. He is a retired L.A. County Deputy Sheriff, and a veteran of the U.S. Navy. He designed and built the POW-MIA Memorial Gardens in Somerset. And, he does lots of things for veterans that he wouldn't allow us to mention.

By helping in the fight against open borders, you in effect are packing your own parachute.

Have you ever thought of it that way? Yes, you are fighting to keep America safe, just like the military does.




Donations, the subject we all shun when we can. A donation of one hours wages (or more) sure would be appreciated by ALIPAC and our efforts to punch them where it counts.

By helping in the fight against open borders, you in effect are packing your own parachute.

Have you ever thought of it that way? Yes, you are fighting to keep America safe, just like the military does.




Donations, the subject we all shun when we can. A donation of one hours wages (or more) sure would be appreciated by ALIPAC and our efforts to punch them where it counts.