Veteran’s Day 2012

The freedoms that we all enjoy and the power and respect that this country has held in the eyes of most of the world did not come from a president or congress.  It came from the blood shed by the men and women who willingly stepped forward to pick up arms against tyranny and aggression to win those rights and freedoms.  Their sacrifice and blood are represented in the red stripes of our country’s flag.  In my eyes, this makes Old Glory a memorial to those who fought for freedom.

As an American veteran, I want to take the time to show my respect and thankfulness toward all my fellow veterans both living and deceased.  No one who has never taken the oath and donned the uniform of a branch of military service can truly understand what drives an individual to be willing to put themselves in harms way.  Our veterans are a unique group of individuals and are deserving of our honor and respect.

It is an emotional thing to watch the outpouring of honor and respect shown toward our veterans today, but sadly this has not always been the case.

The veterans of my era, Vietnam, received no respect or honor upon their return.  They came home to be spat upon and called vicious hateful names, because they chose to willingly serve their country.  The names of those who gave their all are engraved on a polished black granite wall in Washington D.C. 

There is no unknown soldier from Vietnam buried in the Tomb of the Unknown.  The body of the unknown soldier from Vietnam was removed from the Tomb after modern science made it possible to identify him by his d.n.a.

I’m sure it is obvious, that today I want to salute all our military veterans, but most of all I want to salute those who served in that unpopular conflict called Vietnam and to honor the memory of the 58,200 who never returned.

From one veteran to another, thank you all for your service.

The veterans in my family:

Ronnie Boyett, myself, Air Force (Vietnam Era)/Army; Vilinda Boyett, my wife, Army; Jaime Ferguson, daughter, Air Force; Shaun Ferguson, son-in-law, Air Force (Active); Grover Boyett, father, Army; Joseph Owens, father-in-law, Air Force, Carl Boyett, brother, Marines/Army Reserve; Terrie Boyett, brother, Army Reserve; Rick Yarbrough, brother-in-law, Army; Vernon Owens, brother-in-law, Air Force; Dwayne Owens, brother-in-law, Navy (Retired); Willie Boyett, uncle, Army; Donald Boyett, uncle, Army; Walter Anderson, uncle, Air Force; Lloyd “Mutt” Anderson, uncle, Navy

We called him Paw

His name was Otis B. Anderson, he and his wife, Hastie Cora lee, were my maternal grandparents.  All the grandchildren call them Paw and Maw. Together they raised eight children.  Four sons: Otis Curtis (Curt), Charlie Patillo (Pill), Walter Hinton and Obie Lloyd (Mutt).  Four daughters: Annie Corinne, Theresa Cinderella, Sybil Jean (my mom) and Geraldine.  There was a fifth son, Lawson Henry, who died at age one.

Paw was a farmer for most of his life and he also ran his own small store with one gas pump.  My mom, myself and my brother, Carl, live with them for a short time while my dad was serving in the army.  I remember a time when he had a field of cotton to pick and being only 4 or 5 years old, I wanted to help.  Well, Maw got out an old pillow case and pinned a strip of cloth to it and off I went to pick cotton.  Needless to say, I didn’t pick a lot.  On another occasion, when I was a little older, I along with some cousins, followed behind Paw as he drove a horse drawn wagon loaded with sugar cane.  We picked up the stalks that fell off. He was taking the cane up the road to my great aunt Mae Cassidy’s where they had a cane mill to make syrup.

Paw and me in his store

I have very many memories of that store.  One was when I had a toothache or something and telling my mom that a chocolate drink from the store would make it better.  I don’t remember what the drink was called, but boy it sure was good.  I didn’t get one for my pain though.

We lost Maw in February 1969 and Paw followed her two years later in April 1971.  I was going through training in the air force when I received the news of Paw’s death.  It was a blow receiving the news that way.  Thanks to a caring commanding officer and a loan from the credit union, I made it home just in time for the funeral. 

Mom, if I happened to get anything wrong here or you have anything else to add, don’t hesitate to comment.