By Andy Weddington
Sunday, 07 July 2019
War is a terrible trade. But when the cause is just, the smell of gunpowder is sweet. - Myles Standish
On the 4th of July we flew home to Nebraska.
In three airport terminals we walked, sat, dined, and watched (proof the best people watching is not in Walmart).
Many a traveler clad in red, white and blue. Stripes. And stars.
Flags galore.
We neither saw nor heard a soul bad-mouthing America.
So why the absence of media and cameras?
That evening we headed for Werner Park in Papillion and sat behind home plate to watch the Omaha Storm Chasers.
A simple hotdog and cold beer, a given. Americana.
Many a fan clad in red, white, and blue. Stripes. And stars.
Flags galore.
We neither saw nor heard a soul bad-mouthing America nor our President.
A uniformed police officer took the field aside home plate and sang our National Anthem.
Incredible!
We neither saw nor heard a soul shouting they felt threatened and demanding a safe space.
He returned during the 7th inning stretch to sing America the Beautiful. The crowd joined in.
Incredible!
We neither saw nor heard a soul shouting they felt threatened and demanding a safe space.
The Storm Chasers, in an error-free game, beat the Nashville Sounds 1-0.
And soon thereafter celebratory - victory and Independence Day - fireworks filled the air.
Incredible!
The sweet aroma of gunpowder filled the air.
On the drive home fireworks burst a beautiful perimeter as far as we could see.
On the 5th we journeyed west and north to Central City, Nebraska.
For to honor a storekeeper finally home.
That is, Storekeeper 2nd Class Gerald L. Clayton, U. S. Navy.
Twenty-one years old Petty Officer Clayton, recently accounted for, died aboard the USS Oklahoma on 07 December 1941. Many shipmates - (another) 428 - perished with him. Still they're being identified.
More than 50 descendants (none knew "Jerry"), the citizenry of the small town of Central City, a Navy honor guard, and Air Force firing detail gathered for long overdue burial at home.
Graveside, a Navy chaplain delivered a thoughtful eulogy. His touching words personalized Petty Officer Clayton; bringing him to life.
The Navy detail sharp. Precise. Young Sailors at their best - respectful honoring a young Sailor.
The rifles report caused some to flinch. Some to weep.
Gunpowder's sweet aroma complemented by Taps.
A Navy admiral presented the flag to family.
The firing detail's NCOIC (holstered pistol on right hip) presented the casings.
I have attended a handful of USS Oklahoma Sailors' burials. All different. This one especially so.
The road route from the funeral home to the beautiful Central City Cemetery less than three miles.
Citizens, young and old, lined the roads. They waved flags, held hand over heart, and saluted. Children waved.
Just short of the cemetery the procession paused for transfer of remains from hearse to horse-drawn transport.
Four Navy officers marched behind; rear guard of sorts (covering Petty Officer Clayton's back).
Hundreds awaited graveside.
There was some local media.
But where oh where was national media - to honor a fallen patriot being honored by patriots?
While in Central City I neither saw nor heard a soul bad-mouthing America nor our President.
Nor a soul screaming fear of law enforcement and military personnel and demanding a safe space.
Had there been a disruptive soul I suspect the sweet aroma of gunpowder would have filled the air; the problem silenced.
And hearse on duty for the return trip along Central City's empty streets.
,
Patriots head towards gunfire.
Patriots honor (those) fallen by gunfire.
Gunpowder's sweet aroma safeguards freedom, ensures Independence - day and night; though war is a terrible trade.
Patriots know.
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1 comment:
Well said Andy, well said!
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