I know this is late. June 6 came and went. But we were camping. And fasting. From technology. Not food. So I didn’t have a chance to write this. But I still think it’s relevant.
Friday, June 6, we were driving for hours to sleep on the ground. Under the beauty of the Colorado skies. In the shadows of the mountains. We stopped for gas and food. A man in a wheelchair wheeled past. He stopped and backed up. Looked at us and said, “Do you know what happened 70 years ago today?”
“D-Day.” I replied.
His eyes widened in surprise. Shocked that a young person would know, I guess. “That’s right,” he said, “You know, without D-Day, I wouldn’t be here.”
He then explained. He was born disabled. In any other country, he said, he wouldn’t have been given life. He wouldn’t have healthcare. He wouldn’t be given a wheelchair. A job. A life.
With tears starting, “This is the greatest country in the world. The greatest.”
You guys, we. must. remember. We cannot forget what others have sacrificed. For us. For our neighbors. For those taking refuge here. Things won’t be perfect. But, even a bad day in America is still a good day. Because we’re here. And we’re free.
As the man wheeled away, he turned back. “How did you know that?” he asked.
I thought. I remembered. I thought of my grandfather. Of my father. Of my brothers. My friends. Of their service.
I shrugged. “History.” I said.
My history. And yours.