Thank You Is Not Enough

America has many scars and battle wounds, but they have never kept us down. We have more victories than defeats, more heroes than cowards, more great leaders than traitors. We have a military force unequal to any, and it is all voluntary.

For this I say “thank you.” Those words are hardly enough to appreciate the giving of a life or the sacrifice of health. But they are all I have. To all veterans of our military, you are honored and appreciated.

To commemorate the 50^th anniversary of the Vietnam War, I would like to give a special tribute to all those who fought during this conflict. Sadly, you were not honored by some the way you should have been when you returned home, but thankfully those days are over.

May we never forget our heroes (which is anyone who was willing to serve) and may we always acknowledge what they have bought for us. Our country has fought many wars since the fight for independence in 1776. Each one cost many lives. Because of the bravery of thousands, we can be the free and independent nation we are today. We have been blessed because we were willing to stand up and fight for our freedom. God’s light has shone from America as a beacon to the world of His goodness because we made the sacrifices necessary to fight against evil.

Take some time this week to thank a vet.

I would like to honor the veterans in my family:

Ken Latta, US Navy                         Kenny Latta, US Army

Jonathan Latta, US Air Force          Lloyd Watson, US Navy

William Watson, US Army               E.J. Thornton, US Navy

Donald Thornton, US Navy             Billy Ray Thornton, US Navy

Jack Thornton, US Navy                 Hubert Watson, US Army Air Corp          

If you would like to honor some veterans here, please feel free to do so.

Remember

Andersonville National Cemetary

Memorial Day. A time to pay homage to those who have paid with their lives for the freedoms we enjoy. It takes only a visit to a national cemetary to see the evidence of the cost. As we enjoy the benefits of their sacrifice, let us never forget to appreciate what we have.

In honor of those who have lost their lives fighting for the founding of this nation and the continued defense of its freedoms (military, police, and fire departments), I dedicate this poem.

A Hero's Tribute

Andersonville National Cemetary

The plane's engines hum as it rolls to a stop

The rear hatch opens and the door slowly drops.

Uniforms march two by two, side by side,

Gloved hands raise to salute those who died.

Flages drape the coffins as they are carried away

Comrades in arms they will be to this day.

Heroes of war who have paid the price

Coming back home to their loved ones cries.

They are moved to the grave as the bugler plays taps

Young children watch from their mother's laps.

The rifles' repeat echoes off the banks

Our heroes are resting as the nation says "thanks."

 

Do you have a Memorial Day story to share? Remember your hero here.



Old Glory

Recenty I heard a news story regarding a teacher in South Carolina who removed an American flag from the wall, placed it on the floor, and proceeded to stomp on it. His point was that it is only a piece of cloth and doesn't mean anything.Well, kudos to the school principal for putting him on administrative leave. That principal was a military veteran. He knows what it means to pay a price for freedom. I guess that teacher does not.

I wrote this poem a few years ago in response to a similar situation.

The Soul of Old Glory

by Barbara Latta

 

Old Glory started out with needle and thread

pieces of cloth of white, blue, and red.

The standard was carried and waved over battle,

It's waved over graves and political prattle.

The message was clear, "it's freedom I won,

paid with the blood of your daughters and sons."

 

So honored was that banner that it never touched the ground,

even in battles with bullets all around.

When the bearer would fall another would rise

to carry Old Glory lest we see its demise.

So revered was the flag whose message would wave

that it sight over land, over sea, or the grave

would inspire Americans to fight and pursue

to never give up, do what we must do,

To defeat the foes who challenged and taunted

to chase and defeat our enemies, undaunted.

 

It's waved until tattered, soiled and torn

It's waved in the face of the enemy's scorn.

For with each tatter and tear a drop of blood would cry,

and Old Glory would wave and continue to fly.

The flags that have flown over past victory posts

are now carefully preserved lest their history be lost.

But locked in their glass cases has the meaning behind

Old Glory's message made some people blind?

 

For to some it's just a nice history relic

to wave over fields where we play and we frolic.

For now the banner of freedom is spit on and burned,

and so few care that Old Glory is spurned.

They use "freedom of speech" as an excuse to abuse

forgetting how easily that freedom they could lose.

 

Old Glory waves on the grave's sacred soil

asking "why do you hurt me, do you forget my toil?

I am the symbol for you to give you the right to do what you do.

I welcome the foreigner with open arms

to come enjoy my freedoms and flee from harm.

So why do you curse me and say it's an offense

to wave me and fly me, it makes no sense?"

 

Old Glory's cry in days gone by

of victory and freedom, has it been a lie?

No, for you see the soul of Old Glory is the people of her land,

the ones who dare to still take a stand.

For on many hillsides plains and sands

arises a shining, victorious band

of those whose yearning for freedom will never be lost,

it's the ones who have paid a price

the ones who love it the most.