
Have always loved sitting at the counter in restaurants. My favorite haunt was the Country Skillet in Goldsboro NC. That’s where I met Luther, over a cup of coffee.
It’s hard for an extrovert to listen, but the reward comes in letting another extrovert speak first. We were half way through that first cup when Luther became Sgt. Luther…and finally just Sarge. Over the days, weeks and months I looked for him as I entered that crowded place.
Sarge was a WWII vet, who spent much of his later career as an army recruiter. My own dad had common experiences with him. In bye gone days, I used to drink coffee like this with my Dad, now borrowing some time with someone else’s Dad.
Most old soldiers have a story or two they like to tell, and Luther was no exception. Problem is, most people are too busy to listen to old war stories. But in the end, that is how you love a vet…while he or she is still alive. You can get more history over a cup of coffee, than you can from any text book.
Sarge survived the attack on Pearl Harbor, making his story particularly interesting. He liked the fact that I had been a combat medic in the Vietnam Era, so he had a willing audience that understood. He also knew that I would invite him with an open ended question to peel off another layer of the onion, from his own story. He could tell a yarn, packed full of truth, with the rich details of an eye witness.
One day, the management of the restuarant confided with me that Sarge was sick. They gave me sufficient contact information for me to follow up.
There would be no further shared cups of coffee, nor outbursts of laughter in response to some grand point of a story. A unique fellowship had ended.
I met Luther’s son Michael, an amazing man, a chip off the old block. To love Luther was to love Michael.
Michael usually posts on this day in remembereance of his Dad. When he does I remember Sarge too. Coffee just doesn’t taste the same without him.
You know parades are nice. Documentaries remind us much of the challenges of the past. But there is nothing like listening to the stories of an old vet. There is no greater opportunity than when they are alive to: salute them, personally thank them, and if you get close enough… to hug them.
Thank you Sarge for your service. We remember you on Pearl Harbor Day. Slow salute my friend.

Love this story….
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Thanks. Haven’t heard from you in a while.
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Good write Al you have the gift my friend don’t quit
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Thanks Ron. You have brought me through some dark days.
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You definitely have a gift . Touched by heart thinking about my Dad who was a WWII vet.
He could really get into his tales about his experiences. Of course he only shared the funny
events with us kids. Thanks Al.
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Thanks Sherry. The funny stories break the sadness often experienced. Glad for your loving memories of him.
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Good stuff.
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Hope so LT. Often question whether I have something to say worth the read.
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Good read Al. As Sherry said, you have a gift for writing.
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Most of my posts are eye witness accounts, though this post was largely written though the eyes of a WWII Vet.
I try to take writing seriously, out of respect to my readers. Thank you for your comment.
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