To Bring Joy and Happiness To My Readers
I cannot write or say anything profound about Veterans Day. For it has already been said or written many times over. Writers more eminently qualified and eloquent than 1 who, in prose and verse, have enshrined the American Veteran.
Today 1 let go. My memory 1 allowed to wander where it would. It strode back in time and though I am young 1 remember those days.
It is 1968 and Tet-one It was coming onto evening as an old man trudged, down North Burlington Street in Lincoln Park, one of Chicago’s most exclusive neighborhoods. He walked with a limp, his cane making a hollow clicking sound against the pavement with every step. He couldn’t help but marvel at the grandeur of the houses that lined the road. They were huge, with sprawling lawns and pristine gardens. He was out of place here with his tattered overcoat, worn shoes and a battered fedora that had seen better days.
My earliest memories begin in the small Japanese Villages of Kadena and Chatan at Kadena and Naha Air Force Bases on the Island of Okinawa, a Japanese Home Island. Although 1 must regress here, I seem to remember arriving at an airfield on Okinawa and my Dad there waiting with open arms as we got off the plane. 1 can remember the five of us almost tackling him. It was a very joyous day made all the more poignant because it was the first time Dad had seen my very dear younger brother Jonny, who was two, walking.
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Thank you,
Evan Kline
The Undiscovered Scribbler