A new blog at woodsdressage/blaggo_UR8C.html Semper Fi Living the high life of a dressage judge/clinician, I spend a lot of Fridays and Sunday nights in a cramped seat in coach with my knees under my chin and some jerks seat reclined in my face. Not to complain—we all do it. It comes with the territory. Recently at OKC, I was waiting at her gate for another judge to arrive. We were to share a car for the weekend. I noticed a crowd of several hundred people at the plate glass windows, staring out at the dreary, wet tarmac—an unseasonably raw October day. As the jet taxied in and shut down, an announcement: a delay in deplaning until a special cargo was unloaded. An honor guard of eight servicemen marched to the foot of the conveyer and stood at attention as a flag draped coffin emerged from the planes belly and moved slowly down the belt to them. All traffic on the ramp had ceased. Baggage handlers, refuelers, caterers, the planes flight crew—all standing respectfully in the rain as a young man or woman came home for the last time. Up in the terminal we were dry but equally silent as the ceremony played out. One uniformed woman in our midst held a rock-steady salute throughout it. Im sure a million thoughts were going through peoples minds—promises unfulfilled, an empty ache in loved ones hearts. There but for fortune. This was Oklahoma where the local culture skews red and patriotism isnt shyly concealed, but Id wager the scene would have been identical at Logan or SFO. We may not have learned much about war since Vietnam, but we have learned about our warriors. Forty years ago they, alive or dead, came back to disrespect and epithets. Now we understand to blame the generals and the politicians but to hold no grudge against the kids who serve. Kids who are just trying to get by, trying to make a life for themselves, but sometimes losing it for reasons they might not even comprehend.
Posted on: Sun, 19 Oct 2014 23:15:15 +0000
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