Duty. Honor. Country.
Monday, May 30, 2011 at 3:14PM 
Every year on Memorial Day, my father sends me a link to the speech Gen. Douglas MacArthur famously gave to cadets at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point.
"'Duty,' 'Honor,' 'Country,'" MacArthur says. "Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you want to be, what you can be, what you will be."
I read the speech every year because I know it's important to my father, know that it profoundly moves and inspires him. But I confess that I never read it quite as closely as I did this year. Maybe it's more apt to say, I read it with a different perspective.
On Sunday, I rode with my father in Rolling Thunder and fought back tears as we passed thousands of well-wishers who stood for hours in the hot afternoon sun to tell my father, a veteran of the U.S. Army and Air Force, and other men and women who served in the U.S. military - past and present - one thing: "Thank you."
Wounded warriors in wheelchairs saluted. Young and old waved American flags or held hand-drawn signs. People whooped and hollered, threw out their hands to touch the bikers, or gave a thumbs-up. As the procession passed, I watched one older man rise shakily from his chair to stand at attention.
I expected the event to be pretty badass: a motley collection of black-leather-clad bikers and burly military types; thunderous engines; tricked-out bikes and testosterone.
It was all of that, absolutely. Bikers gunned their engines in deafening roars when they passed beneath overpasses or got the sign from spectators eager for noise. And there was no shortage of leather: chaps, vests, jackets, pants, boots, hair accessories.
But I didn't expect the breathtaking emotion. I didn't for a second think I'd want to weep. And yet, by the time we crossed Memorial Bridge, rounded the Lincoln Memorial and headed down Constitution Avenue that's precisely what I wanted to do. As one person after another mouthed the words "Thank you" to my father, I realized these strangers were doing what I never had: thanked my father for his service to the country and for his shared role in keeping us safe.
It's a staggering realization.
My father has always been my hero but for reasons altogether unrelated to his military service. I've never shied from telling him I love and admire him, never been stingy with my gratitude. But for his training, his work and sacrifice, his leadership?
This Memorial Day, I'd like to say "Thank you" to all the men and women who risk their lives every day to protect our country and its freedoms (I'm talkin' to you, Dan!) and those who served in years past.
I'd also like to finally thank my father for his unwavering commitment to duty, honor, country. Thank you, Dad.
Reader Comments (6)
This is pretty awesome! Thanks Dana.
Actually, thank you, Marquita. And your husband!
My best to your dad. Your picture of the Capitol reminds me of one I took a long, long time ago from the hatchway of a sailboat heeling over 30 degrees in a stiff breeze. Glad to hear you had fun.
Hilarious about the sailboat. Most of my photos of the day are pretty crappy because 1)I'm not a great photographer, 2) With the helmet on, I couldn't get the viewfinder closer than two inches from my face and 3) I'm not exactly a natural rider. In fact, it's fair to say I'm terrified.
For the shot of the Capitol, I held the camera aloft over my father's helmet which explains the crazy angle. Also, just a few blocks prior, my father hit a pot hole moving at quite a clip (we were catching up to the group after being stopped to let pedestrians cross) and I nearly popped off the back. So, I was still shaky and wary of nutty movements but I wanted a shot of the bikes and the building.
Wow. I'd have cried if I'd been there. Your post just made me cry. I have such a different perspective than I used to. We really do owe big thanks to all the generations of soldiers.
Hey, Dana:
Just catching up on a few posts, and ignoring my kids all the while. Rolling Thunder sounds great, and thanks to your Dad. But if you are ever looking for a remembrance closer to home, let me suggest the Memorial Day and Veterans Day observances held right here in Del Ray at the Mount Vernon recreation Center. You have probably been to one. But the observance always focuses on Humbert Rocue Versace (Rocky), who is the subject of the sculpture in the plaza in front of the rec center. I once wrote about the Veterans Day observance for the Del Ray Patch, but my post was rejected. Not quite the right fit, I was told. Could it have been my writing?
Anyway, I try to go at least once in November or May, because Rocky has affected me deeply: his life, patriotism, service and faith. He lived right here in Del Ray and was a parishioner at St. Rita, I found out about a year ago. He won the Congressional Medal of Honor for service during the Vietnam War. A POW, his body was never found, but he was last heard singing 'God Bless America' at the top of his lungs as he was being dragged away by the North Vietnamese. He so inspired and gave strength to his fellow POW's that his classmates from West Point have never let his story go dim.
I think your Dad, if he has not already heard of him, would enjoy the simplicity of the observance, but also be touched by the unwavering dedication his fellow soldiers still show him by returning every six months to celebrate his life and service. This past observance was attended by many of his classmates from 1959 and the guest speakers included Stanly McChrystal and the only Vietnamese graduate of West Point, whose speech of thanks to all veterans and Americans moved me to tears. His and unwavering, and unabashed, certainty of the necessity of the US involvement there was brave in its own right, given how maligned that war has become.
The medal is on display in the case in the entrance, along with other items. I am sure you know all this but thought I would mention it.
Lisa