life in and around NYC is insane

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Veteran's Day





When my father has his more lucid moments, if you ask the right questions, he will talk about his past -- his real past, not the mixed up goop that his jumbled mind puts together.

Last night the conversation turned to Veteran's Day.

My father suffered St. Vitus  Dance (Sydenham's chorea), a neurological manifestation of rheumatic fever, when he was a little boy, and the doctors told his parents he had a heart condition and should not be overly active.  He was never to participate in gym class.

He got his draft notice shortly after his 18th birthday.  Went to his physical thinking he'd be classified unfit for military service.

When he came home and told his mother that he was going into the Army, she didn't believe it.  All the neighbors were incredulous.

He made it through basic training in Georgia.  Most of his unit was sent to Japan, but because he was given leave to observe a Jewish holiday at home, he was sent to Italy instead.

Today we honor our Veterans.  Today I honor my dad.

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