When I came home on leave in the early 70s I got spit on and have carried the grudge until about 20 years ago. Thank you, Marines that shot at Camp Perry that year. I think I have told that story before here years ago.
Tonight it occurred to me that when I got out I hitchhiked to the family manse in MA from Ft. Carson, CO.
It was scratch hitching until I got to the Ft. Morgan (CO) scales and asked a trucker for a ride. He looked me over and saw my short hair. At the time hippie hair was the norm.
"You a serviceman?" he asked.
"Just got out," I replied. "Headed home."
He looked at me with and in an authoritative tone of voice simply said "Get in."
I rode with him with a load of beef to Davenport, Iowa.
During the last several miles he was on the CB trying to get me a connection which he did.
Most of the rest of the way home was a tired blur but those truckers kept me moving until I was a little over a half-mile from home. Mr. Kelly spotted me hoofing it down the final road and snagged me so I only had to was walk across the front lawn.
I do remember one trucker making arrangements with someone behind him to scoop me up when he had to drop me off to take his exit. He dropped me off about a mile from the exit with instructions specifically to sit on the guard rail and wait.
Sure enough, a truck saw me and pulled into the breakdown lane and I hit the deck running. I was in the truck before it could come to a full stop and said, "Hit it. I don't want you to get a ticket."
He started working out the gearbox and inside a minute we were back in the passing lane making good time, double nickels be damned.
Looking back on things, the Vietnam war, the protests, the mistreatment of GIs I have to say that America was still there if you wanted to look for it. Sometimes you had to do a little digging but the values were still to be found.
I recall one trucker saying to me "I don't care how someone feels about the war, you don't $hit on the troops. They have no say in the matter. They go where we send them and do what we tell them."
From time to time I have to dig back and reflect on things and remember that America is still here even though you sometimes have to dig for it. I sometimes also have to dig for what the late, great Paul Harvey referred to as 'The rest of the story'.
I think that my 4th of July trip to small town America inadvertently stirred up a few memories and this is one of them.
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In other news, last night I heard the unmistakable sound of a tree falling behind the house. It spoke to me clearly and said, "I've fallen and I can't get up!"
After breakfast settles and I take a dump I have to go out and investigate.
Recon report.
Microburst.
At least six trees fell, including a huge oak. Most of which fell into my yard. Very touchy situation as I have gotten along famously with my neighbor for decades. Hopefully her homeowners will cover half of it. We shall see what we shall see.
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