By Debbie Daniel

dddtx@yahoo.com

I was not yet 12 years old, nevertheless, it was every Friday night that they snuck me in. I looked much older than my age, taller than some in my group, so I was able to pull off the pretense quite well. We went to the top floor, and within minutes I had my accordion strapped around my shoulders and the band lit up the room with a polka. It was an accordion and guitar band and this was our Friday night "gig" with the patients in the mental ward of the VA hospital. Even when the nurses realized I was not old enough to be admitted on that particular floor, they didn't say anything. They enjoyed the music as well as the war heroes and they let me stay. And stay I did . . . it was every Friday night. Many of the men would make requests and even though we were singing and playing music from Elvis, Hank Williams, and Patsy Cline, those old fellas wanted to hear the marches of John Philip Sousa. They loved the military songs. Many would cry as they sat in their wheelchairs and listened to us play. I wondered at my young age why grown men would cry. And I soon learned. It was only a few years later that I once again became part of the Sousa music. I was leader of the junior high marching band; the drum major. I always wondered if there was anyone at the Friday night football games that would enjoy the marches as much as those veterans at the VA hospital in Shreveport, Louisiana. Were there any soldiers in the stands? Would they cry, too? The military marches soon became a part of me. I loved what I was doing, and ended up making a career of leading the band until I graduated from college. I marched in parades throughout the South, and it was always special when a salute was made as the flag was passing by. Or, depending on what branch of service they had served, the crowds clapped louder when their song was played. Oh, what a thrill! I would step a little higher, and stand a little taller when I saw anyone in military uniform. I knew this music would strike a chord, and it made me feel proud. My mother always told me about her father leading his company of soldiers as they passed in review on the parade grounds at the Presidio in San Francisco, California. As an Army Captain — being careful not to break rank — he would march close where his little girl was standing anticipating her father's approach, and then he would turn his head slightly in her direction as in a salute to her. His white gloved hand would carefully extend an off-the-leg wave to her and her memories of that could be no more vivid than it is today. I, too, began to give a certain nod to those in uniform. With my large military "shako" headdress pointed to a soldier, that was my signal to let him know, "this one's for you," and the whistle blew and "Stars and Stripes Forever" began to play. I also grew up hearing my mother recite John McCrae's poem, "In Flanders Fields," and I am reminded every Veteran's Day of the many soldiers buried in military cemeteries all over our great land. As our nation secured a victory in the 2002 election, I cannot help but feel gratitude to our soldiers who fought and gave their lives so that we could have this one little simple privilege: to vote. And vote we did . . . the people spoke louder than they have in years, with record crowds standing in lines at the voting booths. As McCrae's World War I poem so clearly states:

 "Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields." >>

Don't forget to give a special nod to our veterans on November 11 ... let them know this one's for them.

http://www.toogoodreports.com/column/general/daniel/20021110-fss.htm

(Note from Bill: The Democrats and Republicans are two wings of the same bird, the Vulture! This Vulture is devouring our hard earned money with taxes! The Vulture is destroying our Constitution, Bill of Rights with unAmerican Bills! The Vulture is flying over and taking a Final Pass to Finish the Job! Don't let the Vulture destroy our America! Don't let the Vulture take the place of our Eagle!

For God & Country)