I was scheduled for jury duty this morning.I’m one of those strange and wacky people who
doesn’t mind my civic duty.I figure
that what goes around comes around, and someday – Heaven forbid! – if I am
accused of a crime, I’d want someone like me on a jury.Without people willing to inconvenience
themselves periodically, our judicial system would crumble, and with it our
society.
So, I found myself in a crowded jury room this morning,
watching as the numbers appeared on the screen and listening to the
announcements.When we were released at
mid-day, there was a stampede for the doors and sighs of relief for those of us
who were not called.Having been through
this before, I just noted it as an event and left the building.
While I was downtown, however, I decided to indulge in a
roasted eggplant sandwich at a little Italian deli that I used to frequent when
I was a corporate soldier, so I began walking further into the downtown canyon
to hunt down my lunch.As I walked, I
heard some drums and saw some street blockades and uniformed people.“Ah, Veteran’s Day parade!” I thought to
myself.Not being much of a parade
watcher generally, I thought that I would get my sandwich and watch the parade,
and show our vets how much I appreciated them before heading back to work.
I bought my lunch and found a spot on the parade route.I looked at the people around me, waiting for
the parade to start.Across the street
was what appeared to be a Mexican family, consisting of a grandmother, her son,
her grandson, and a little boy, who must have been her great-grandson.I saw an Indian (as in the country India)
mother and adult daughter.I had followed
a group of Middle Eastern men to the parade route.There were several Anglo families with small
children, clutching flags.Near me were
three vets – an African-American (in fatigues), a Latino, and an Asian man (Korean?).I was surrounded by people of all
nationalities, genders, and ages.A golf
cart came down the street and handed out flags.The father of the small Mexican boy got several, and each member of his
received their very own flag.The little
boy was jumping and waving his in the air.I bought a flag for a little girl who was with her mother in front of
me.
As I heard the bands begin to play, the excitement
grew.I cried several times during the
parade, watching the aged warriors standing in the back of the trucks, with
ramrod straight backs and eyes that always looked forward.After all the years, they were still proud of
their service. I was momentarily
saddened by the sight of a single veteran, carrying the black POW/MIA
flag.How many mothers and fathers are
still missing sons and daughters?There
were the usual units, and then the special groups came by – the Korean vets,
the Chinese-American vets, the Vietnamese, and even one Native American, with
his feathered headdress and carrying a military flag. Even the French were represented!The disabled women’s veterans came by, one in
a wheelchair.Several other disabled
veterans appeared, proudly pushing their chairs along, with flags and all.I
clapped for every veteran that rolled or walked down that street.There Gold Star Moms and Blue Star Moms, and
just Moms.I was honored to honor them.
As I watched these men – the ones in the parade and the ones
on the curb, I thought back to my jury duty dismissal.I was ashamed of the people who had been so
relieved to get out of the inconvenience of taking part in this great society
for just a few days.I could only imagine
what these veterans had endured so that we could all stand together, in a
street, because we wanted to.
There’s a difference between duty and honor.At times they overlap, at times they don’t.
For those men and women in the parade today, it overlapped.
Well, you've done it once again. I got chills as I read this wonderful review of the parade we all forget about. Shame on me.When I was tiny, the Veterans Day parade was a big deal. Today? Not so much. We are too complacent. Bless and keep those who served, who serve, and those who gave all.
