I just wanted to share with all of you what took place in my neighborhood (and is still taking place).

There was a Wounded Warriors March from Central Park in NYC, to roughly 2 blocks from my home.

Alan and I went there at 2 p.m. and all the army guys and National Guardsman and all the Veterans were there. There were tents with foods for the families of the Wounded Warriors.

While everyone was waiting for the Wounded Warriors to arrive, I walked over to an elderly gentleman, tapped him on the shoulder and said "Hello Sir, I gather you are a veteran (he was dressed in all his regalia and medals) and he said "why yes I am".

I said: "On behalf of my dad I'd like to shake your hand, my father was also a veteran of World War 2". Well, the guy grabbed me and brought me over to a bunch of guys just like him. I shook all their hands (Alan was over at the other end talking to an army captain, Alan served in the army years ago by the way). So I'm chatting with these lovely men and I said "my father was in Iceland for 5 years and he wouldn't touch lamb when he came home". I told them all the army stories my dad had told me (when he captured a german officer, etc.).

All these lovely men were so friendly and I thanked them for their service to their country. One of the guys had also been in Iceland but at a different time then my dad. Wouldn't that have been cool, if he had known my dad??

Then I spoke to several army people and I shook their hands and thanked them for their service.

This whole ceremony was also joined in by the Fire Department and all the Fire Trucks and Firemen were out in their uniforms.

We shook their hands also.

Then the bag pipe players started playing, so we knew the guys were coming down the street.

Sure enough, the Wounded Warriors showed up. These are the wounded vets from Iraq who were using hand crank bikes. They looked so splended in all their biking outfits.

The tv cameras were rolling and the Brooklyn President, Martin Golden made a very heartfelt speech.

I met a girl who was the girlfriend of one of the Wounded Warriors. I wished her much happiness in her relationship with her guy. They were going to look at engagement rings. Her guy had a prosthetic leg.

She was very proud of him

I was proud OF ALL OF THEM.

So we hooped and hollered every time everybody applauded. Alan was shouting HOO RAH!!!

I said "shut up, you are not a marine".

It was so hot in the sun I can't begin to tell you. We had bottles of water and there were tents and food and everything. And balloons.

It's going to be shown on local tv tonight.

The camera caught me a few times.

I may even be in the newspaper tomorrow morning.

Anyway, today was THEIR day.

Brooklyn honored these heroes.

I met moms and dads, and girlfriends, and female Army Captains (that was so cool). I shook their hands. They were so nice.

Just wanted to share how my hometown of Brooklyn welcomed the Wounded Warriors to their hearts.

Mel,

you have a Ponce de Leon Spirit....

and vive de coeur attitude...

you've made many people smile today...

including moi...

Moi, don't you be calling Melody names! She's a very nice person. She made me smile too!!!

Thanks for telling us about it, Mel. What a wonderful day for everyone involved!!!

When I ever think of bag pipers let alone hear them I get goose bumps.

That was so nice of you to introduce yourself to them and to talk about your father like that.

Thanks for the nice words.

I always want the veterans to know that we appreciate what they did.

My father told me so many wonderful stories from the war. He made them come alive as he told them to me.

Do you know that my father (who was married to my mother legally, but not in the Catholic Church), so they didn't consider themselves actually married BUT THEY WERE MARRIED ENOUGH THAT SHE GOT SOMETHING CALLED AN ALLOTMENT CHECK.

So he was stationed in Germany during World War 2. He was there for 6 months or so. He met a beautiful red headed woman. She came with the apartment (kind of like Soylent Green, if any of you saw that film).

She lived with my father for the 6 months, then when he shipped out another buddy moved in. As my father was telling me this years ago, I just stared at him. I said "are you kidding, you did this in 1940 (or whatever year it was). My father said: "oh yeah, all the soldiers did this".

I said "does mom know?" and he said: "well, yeah, but we don't talk about it". I said: "and she was okay about this". And his reply was "Well, we weren't married in the church so she figured we weren't really married".

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I said "I would have killed you".

Of course, this particular story I kept to myself.

But the others were so amazing.

And all these guys in their 80's from the same unit. Oh my god, it was so glorious.

Anyway, we must support our troops.

They need our prayers.

Mel

That is a wonderful story and such a special event.

My brother and sister are both serving in the Army and are both in Iraq at the moment. My brother's unit has lost several men within the last 4 weeks or so.

The stories I see and read are heart-wrenching. Our wounded warriors will never get enough money to replace the lost of a limb(s) and other injuries.

A few years back I took a bus trip/tour to D.C. with a bunch of other strangers from my area. One of our stops was the WWII memorial which had only been completed for about a year or two at that time.

One of the men who was traveling with his wife took many pictures there. I noticed that he was wearing something to indicate that he was a veteran. I struck up a conversation with him and he was indeed a WWII veteran. This man and his lovely wife were at least in their 70s if not a little older.

I was so pleased to get to know them and I thanked him for his service. My grandfathers served in WWII and both are gone now. So many of those vets from that war are gone now. A lost generation.

Anyway, he was so happy to be acknowledged for his service for this country. I made sure everyone on the bus knew about our special passenger when we boarded again. He was one of the special parts of that trip.

Thank you for sharing your story,
Weeble