Editor’s Note: This column originally published Nov. 14, 2014.
It was late in the evening Tuesday night, and I had just gotten home from watching two hours of The Voice at my mom’s.
I had a name on my mind all day but with the busy pace of life and procrastinate nature, I hadn’t quite made time to make the phone call I had been meaning to make. After all, I take “Thank You’s” seriously, so I had to think of the right, meaningful thing to say.
But I needed to call the closest living veteran loved one I know — Craig White — because it was Veterans Day, but the day was almost gone.
In the days leading up to the national day of honor and remembrance, I had come across many local veterans, some I know, many I don’t, and some just from memory or a picture in uniform, but I hadn’t forgot the one veteran I know the most.
I grew up with Craig. As my father died when I was four, a majority of my childhood was spent with Craig, “my mom’s boyfriend” as I referred to him over the years, and he helped raised me too.
Craig is smart and sharp yet sensitive. He’s caring and calm yet concerned. He’s the funniest man, incredibly witty, but he always knows the right thing to do. Even with mistakes, flaws, he gives the wisest, truly nonjudgmental advice. He listens. Craig has taught me a great deal about the necessity of honesty, acceptance and forgiveness over the 25 years I’ve known him and for those things I’m indebted, blessed.
We used to go fishing a lot and hunting, mushroom hunting, of course. We cheered on Tom Davis’ Hawkeyes and my mom through nursing school. He taught me about the outdoors, bird species and that a Chesapeake Bay Retriever is a man’s best friend.
Craig fought in Vietnam long before I came along. I know he was intuitive and disciplined enough to be a ranger on the forefront of a place I’ll never know. He’s simply seen a lot of things nobody should see in their lifetime, although I don’t specifically know what most of those things are.
He was a young, 20-something engineering student months away from graduation at The University of Iowa when he left, and when he returned, a man, a solider.
It’s because of the sacrifice and experience of millions of men and women, and Craig, that hopefully I’ll never have to experience what they have. That you, or your grandchildren, won’t know the depths of human distress and desperation. That our thoughts won’t be scarred by unspeakable situations because of those sons who came before.
Veterans Day isn’t just about our freedom, it’s about theirs.
I called Craig shortly after 9 p.m. that night, relieved to hear his voice, that it wasn’t too late. We spent some time catching up on recent life and then I told him why I called. It wasn’t elaborate and not nearly as expressive as I’d wish. I said, “Happy Veterans Day, Craig.” I thanked him for serving and told him I loved him. I’m glad he made it home 40 years ago.
Hopefully, it made his day as it had mine.
Contact Kate Malott at 641-792-3121 ext. 6533 or kmalott@newtondailynews.com