Thoughts on Memorial Day

The day is not until tomorrow, but the memories that it stirs up have already spent three-quarters of a century within our hearts. And since we are in the throes of another battle right now, it even takes on more relevance in our lives. I mourn the death of a small group of heroes who were inside a B-24 named KING KONG on September 27, 1944. They climbed aboard that morning to battle Nazi Germany by dropping bombs on an enemy. They suffered bitter cold over four miles high over Germany in a cold War machine Ill fitted to provide crew comfort. They put their trust in a twenty-year-old pilot who had only a few hours of experience. And they did this because they believed they had a duty to serve their country, even to death. Four died that very day. I can’t help but compare them to some, today, who refuse to protect their neighbors with an act that is so simple, so insanely easy compared to my guys in that old War Bird over Europe. The comparison came up front and center this morning when The New York Times printed their entire Sunday front page full of those who have died from the pandemic we face. Yet there were still only a thousand names, out of a total of a hundred thousand. 1%.  Even with such a visible example in our face, there are those who won’t wear a mask, a simple, yet effective tool to save a life of someone you may, or may not, know. So much easier way to serve our fellow man than riding a drafty old bomber during a vicious war. On this Memorial Day, I pray everyone will serve their fellow man by that simple act of wearing a mask in honor of that crew of mine. Their names are Charles Bousquet, Hector Scala, Johnny Cowgill, Howard Boldt, James Fields, Ray Lemons, Olen Byrd, John Knox, Elmer Lord. They did their job back then without a whimper. Harder than wearing a mask.