As I came out of the supermarket that sunny day, pushing my cart of
groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up
and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open. The old man was
looking at the engine. I put my groceries away in my car and continued
to watch the old gentleman from about twenty-five feet away. I saw a
young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm, walking
towards the old man. The old gentleman saw him coming too and took a few
steps towards him. I saw the old gentleman point to his open hood and
say something. The young man put his grocery bag into what looked like a
brand new Cadillac Escalade and then turn back to the old man and I
heard him yell at the old gen tleman saying, "You shouldn't even be
allowed to drive a car at your age." And then with a wave of his hand,
he got in his car and peeled rubber out of the parking lot.
I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief and mop his brow as he
went back to his car and again looked at the engine. He then went to his
wife and spoke with her and appeared to tell her it would be okay. I had
seen enough and I approached the old man. He saw me coming and stood
straight and as I got near him I said, "Looks like you're having a
problem." He smiled sheepishly and quietly nodded his head. I looked
under the hood myself and knew that whatever the problem was, it was
beyond me. Looking around I saw a gas station up the road and told the
old gentleman that I would be right back. I drove to the station and
went inside and saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one
of them and related the problem the old man had with his car and offer ed
to pay them if they could follow me back down and help him. The old man
had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and appeared to be
comforting his wife. When he saw us he straightened up and thanked me
for my help. As the mechanics diagnosed the problem (overheated engine)
I spoke with the old gentleman. When I shook hands with him earlier he
had noticed my Marine Corps ring and had commented about it, telling me
that he had been a Marine too. I nodded and asked the usual question,
"What outfit did you serve with?" He had mentioned that he served with
the first Marine Division at Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal .
He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war was
over.
As we talked we heard the car engine come on and saw the mechanics lower
the hood. They c ame over to u s as the old man reached for his wallet,
but was stopped by me and I told him I would just put the bill on my AAA
card. He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I
assumed had his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket. We
all shook hands all around again and I said my goodbye's to his wife. I
then told the two mechanics that I would follow them back up to the
station. Once at the station I told them that they had interrupted their
own jobs to come along with me and help the old man. I said I wanted to
pay for the help, but they refused to charge me. One of them pulled out
a card from his pocket looking exactly like the card the old man had
given to me. Both of the men told me then, that they were Marine Corps
Reserves. Once again we shook hands all around and as I was leaving, one
of them told me I should look at th e card the old man had given to me
and I said I would and drove off. For some reason I had gone about two
blocks when I pulled over and took the card out of my pocket and looked
at it for a long, long, time. The name of the old gentleman was on the
card in golden leaf and under his name......... "Congressional Medal of
Honor Society."
I sat there motionless looking at the card and reading it over and over.
I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and marveled
that on this day, four Marines had all come together, because one of us
needed help. He was an old man alright, but it felt good to have stood
next to greatness and courage and an honor to have been in his presence.
America is not at war. The U.S. Military is at war. America is at the Mall.
groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up
and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open. The old man was
looking at the engine. I put my groceries away in my car and continued
to watch the old gentleman from about twenty-five feet away. I saw a
young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm, walking
towards the old man. The old gentleman saw him coming too and took a few
steps towards him. I saw the old gentleman point to his open hood and
say something. The young man put his grocery bag into what looked like a
brand new Cadillac Escalade and then turn back to the old man and I
heard him yell at the old gen tleman saying, "You shouldn't even be
allowed to drive a car at your age." And then with a wave of his hand,
he got in his car and peeled rubber out of the parking lot.
I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief and mop his brow as he
went back to his car and again looked at the engine. He then went to his
wife and spoke with her and appeared to tell her it would be okay. I had
seen enough and I approached the old man. He saw me coming and stood
straight and as I got near him I said, "Looks like you're having a
problem." He smiled sheepishly and quietly nodded his head. I looked
under the hood myself and knew that whatever the problem was, it was
beyond me. Looking around I saw a gas station up the road and told the
old gentleman that I would be right back. I drove to the station and
went inside and saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one
of them and related the problem the old man had with his car and offer ed
to pay them if they could follow me back down and help him. The old man
had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and appeared to be
comforting his wife. When he saw us he straightened up and thanked me
for my help. As the mechanics diagnosed the problem (overheated engine)
I spoke with the old gentleman. When I shook hands with him earlier he
had noticed my Marine Corps ring and had commented about it, telling me
that he had been a Marine too. I nodded and asked the usual question,
"What outfit did you serve with?" He had mentioned that he served with
the first Marine Division at Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal .
He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war was
over.
As we talked we heard the car engine come on and saw the mechanics lower
the hood. They c ame over to u s as the old man reached for his wallet,
but was stopped by me and I told him I would just put the bill on my AAA
card. He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I
assumed had his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket. We
all shook hands all around again and I said my goodbye's to his wife. I
then told the two mechanics that I would follow them back up to the
station. Once at the station I told them that they had interrupted their
own jobs to come along with me and help the old man. I said I wanted to
pay for the help, but they refused to charge me. One of them pulled out
a card from his pocket looking exactly like the card the old man had
given to me. Both of the men told me then, that they were Marine Corps
Reserves. Once again we shook hands all around and as I was leaving, one
of them told me I should look at th e card the old man had given to me
and I said I would and drove off. For some reason I had gone about two
blocks when I pulled over and took the card out of my pocket and looked
at it for a long, long, time. The name of the old gentleman was on the
card in golden leaf and under his name......... "Congressional Medal of
Honor Society."
I sat there motionless looking at the card and reading it over and over.
I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and marveled
that on this day, four Marines had all come together, because one of us
needed help. He was an old man alright, but it felt good to have stood
next to greatness and courage and an honor to have been in his presence.
America is not at war. The U.S. Military is at war. America is at the Mall.
