honor on the eleventh: For Veterans
Rick, Bob Dole and The Honor Flight Network
Veterans Day is on 11 November, but honoring veterans is not a once-a-year thing. Awareness of and gratitude for veterans - and all who serve - is a daily practice. And if not daily, it certainly deserves regular attention. Writing about veterans’ issues on the 11th of each month provides a structured way to keep this topic in regular rotation.
This month, I planned to write an update to the story I shared on Veterans Day about Rick, the UPS driver who noticed the Purple Heart on my uncle’s license plate. (You can read that story here.)
Then Bob Dole passed.
His passing on Sunday December 5 was followed, just days later, by the 80th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor on Tuesday December 7. How poignant that Dole and the war he fought in marked milestones at the same time.
Bob Dole devoted his life to service, including decades of political service. I’m not here to write about the complicated realities of politics, of which political parties individual veterans have been associated with, of the governments they served, of the fraught policies, practices and social histories their lives are entwined with.
I’m here to note and amplify the service and sacrifice performed and to honor those better angels that exist in all of us and have been present even in humanity’s darkest hours.
Senator Dole’s service, accomplishments and impact have been beautifully eulogized in recent days. And my thoughts have lingered on those words.
At his passing, the very first thing I thought of was Bob Dole's practice of visiting the World War II Memorial to greet visiting veterans. I read a moving article about this a few years ago, and it has stuck with me. I have vivid recall of some of the content and photographs, but I wanted to revisit the fullness of the story. So I looked up the article.
“Bob Dole’s Final Mission,” written by Steve Hendrix, was published in The Washington Post on 18 June 2018.
The publication date stopped me in my tracks: 2018. This article was published in June 2018. And it was the first thing I thought of in December 2021 when Dole passed. That is the powerful impact of quality journalism: writing about noble actions and notable ideas with moving words in a manner that embeds those actions and ideas so deeply in the hearts and minds of humanity, that they are fresh and vibrant years later.
Among other things, Hendrix recounted Dole’s role in funding and building the WWII Memorial and his commitment to visiting the memorial on Saturdays. Movingly, he writes of Dole greeting veteran after veteran, survivors, widows and widowers, descendants. Many of these visitors arrived as guests of the Honor Flight Network.
The Honor Flight Network brings veterans from all over the country to visit the war memorials in Washington, D.C.
For free.
Flights, hotels, meals, transportation - all for free. I love to stop and think on that. The volunteers who run it. The donations that support it. The stunning impact on the lives of those who benefit from it.
Saturday after Saturday, year after year, Bob Dole sat at the entrance to the WWII Memorial and greeted the veterans who visited - many via the Honor Flight Network. Dole’s own service and accomplishments were often remarked upon, of course, but that is not where the conversation dwelled. Dole asked about their service, he thanked them, he shared solemn exchanges and light banter with these, his peers. His peers.
Bob Dole’s choice to spend the Saturdays of his nonagenarian years in the company of his fellow veterans speaks volumes….and brings me back to Rick, who brings UPS packages to my house and notices Purple Heart insignias on license plates.
I had my eye out for Rick in the days after posting the essay about him. I wanted to tell him about the essay and about the impact his actions had on me and my family. And I wanted to know the other half of the story - Rick’s half of the story. The “why.” Why did he notice the Purple Heart on my uncle’s license plate? Why did he comment on it? Why did he care?
A few days later I heard the familiar rumble of the UPS truck and the ring of the doorbell. I made it to the door just as Rick was stepping back toward his truck. But he stopped when I opened the door, and raised his hand in greeting. I told him I’d been watching for him, I told him about the impact he’d had, I told him about the essay. And I asked him why he noticed, why he commented, why he cared.
Because he is an Army Ranger.
He served for six years. He was deployed to three theaters. He is hugely, justifiably, appropriately, quietly proud of his service. He is constantly, continually aware of the military insignias that surround us on a daily basis, the information they convey, the connection to service they reveal. He acknowledges and thanks those who bear them.
The proper response to “Thank you for your service” is some variation on “You’re welcome…did you also serve?” The proper response is to widen the circle, to include the other, to proffer thanks in return. That’s what Bob Dole did on the Saturday mornings he spent at the WWII Memorial.
I did not do that when Rick commented on my uncle’s Purple Heart license plate. I was too overwhelmed. My feelings were so big and raw, I could not think beyond them. I told Rick this. I acknowledged that I was remiss in our first interaction, I apologized, I thanked him for his service.
Because I see Rick regularly, I had the opportunity to right my wrong. To extend thanks, honor and respect to him.
I don’t always get the opportunity to right my wrongs, to correct my failings, to apologize. This interaction reminded me that I need to get it right the first time, always think of others first and never forget my manners. I will follow Rick’s example, and always notice. I will follow Bob Dole’s example, and always say “Thank you.”