I just returned from a wonderful week-long family vacation to Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida. It was basically one big Christmas present for everyone in the family. We visited each of the four parks and rode all the rides that we wanted to, and visited attractions which we had never done before. It was well worth the time and the money to spend the week with my beautiful wife, my sister, and my mom and dad in the Magic Kingdom. Memories were made which will never be forgotten (since we talk about family vacation memories during every Sunday dinner it’s impossible to forget them; it’s like Groundhog Day). But there was one particular experience that I want to share with you.
It was New Year’s Eve and we were at Epcot getting ready to see the first fireworks show of the evening (which was fantastic, by the way). My wife and I decided we’d like to spend the time prior to the fireworks standing in line for ice cream. (Not like we hadn’t done enough of that already that day, I mean standing in line. We stood in line for 3 hours for about a 3-4 minute ride. But it was worth it, because it’s like you’re going into space with the gravitational forces and then the weightlessness… It was AWESOME!!! But I digress.) So, there we are standing in line, and my back is hurting so I go lean against a rail to take the pressure off my feet and lower back. As I’m sitting there watching the line to the ice cream stand crawl ever so slowly forward, an elderly gentleman came and stood next to me. We started a conversation. His name is Joe.
Back in the summer of 1941, Joe was serving in the U.S. Army. He was transferred to Hickam AFB at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. He was receiving training on becoming a machinist. And then December 7 happened – the day that changed Joe’s life. He was in his barracks when the first wave of Japanese planes launched their devastating attack. He and his buddies sprung into action, but there wasn’t much they could do. In a short time, Joe and some of the other servicemen found themselves in the small fire station near their barracks, which got destroyed by Japanese bombs. One bomb fell very near where they were in the fire station, only yards away. The blast was terrifying. Joe went on to discuss some of the history behind that Day of Infamy, which he learned only after the fact. For example, the mismanagement of the newly installed radar system, and how things would have been different had the B-17s that were coming in from the mainland been there a little sooner. Joe also discussed other life experiences he had and how the world had changed during his lifetime. Man, Joe has seen and been through a lot.
We continued our discussion a while longer, and when we were just beginning to discuss how the mentality of Americans today differed from his generation during World War II it was time to help my wife with the ice cream order and carry the cones with chocolate and vanilla ice cream back to the family waiting next to the water for the fireworks display. Unfortunately, I had to end my discussion with this amazing man, a hero. I told him I was sorry that we couldn’t continue, and then went on my way. As soon as my wife and I delivered the ice cream to the family, I told them that I would be right back. I hurried over to the refreshment stand where I knew Joe would still be standing, because the lines weren’t moving very fast at all.
As I came up to the line, I saw Joe standing there, leaning up against the rail with his family close by. As I approached him, he saw me coming and I noticed a big smile come across his face. I reached my hand out to this brave man, and he extended his. Our hands grasped and I thanked him for the wonderful conversation we had and we finally exchanged names. Still grasping Joe’s hand, I looked him in the eye and thanked him for his service and sacrifice. Oh, I wish you could have seen his face. His smile went from ear to ear. I noticed his family looking on, watching the scene unfold and seeing a husband, a father, a grandfather beaming. Smiles were an order, and everybody had one. I thanked Joe once again, shaking hands, and then we parted ways.
That final encounter with Joe was short, but sweet. For him, somebody remembered and appreciated the personal sacrifice made by him and the millions of others serving in various capacities during World War II. For me, it was a reminder how precious yet under-appreciated our veterans – our fighting men and women – are. They deserve our full gratitude, regardless of how old they are, or what war they fought in. And when we express that gratitude with a handshake and a thankful heart, it makes all the difference in those veterans’ lives, and it will make all the difference in your life, too.