General Discussion

I went straight into the U.S. Air Force out of high school—literally right after my last day. Two friends and I had made a pact to walk to the recruiter’s office and enlist. What we didn’t realize was that all five branches shared that same office space: Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and Coast Guard. Depending on the day, a different recruiter would be there. As fate would have it, all three of us ended up in the Air Force. To this day, I still shiver thinking about how easily our paths could’ve been different.

Though my grandfather served in WWI (Army, France) and my dad in WWII (Navy Intelligence, intercepting German and later Japanese codes), my dad was not happy I’d enlisted. But I was 18—and that was that. I believed he thought the family had already done their bit in the two previous wars. And he didn't want to lose his only son in a jungle in Southeast Asia.

I served four years as a USAF medic, never left the U.S., and returned home in 1969. A year later, by November 1970, I had married a young girl my whole family adored. I had five sisters, and my dad affectionately called her “number six” from the day he met her. She went on to college and became a physical therapist. She would spend time with my family when she was home from college and I was away in the military. After marriage, I bought, owned, and operated a local ambulance service. Our son was born in 1973.

We moved to a midwestern state for a change and to be near my oldest sister and her husband, who was the brother I never had and my wife's best female friend to this day.

My wife and I committed ourselves to making the world a better place, especially for the “least among us.” We adopted three additional children, all with special needs. One had physical disabilities that required a mother trained in PT and a father with medical experience. The other two—biological siblings—came to us as an emergency placement. They were just 4 and 3 years old.

We raised all three to adulthood and saw them through high school. The brother and sister both enlisted in the Army, one year apart, and completed four-year terms. She served in military intelligence, initially as a Russian linguist. He became a cook. Both met partners while serving, married, and eventually settled in their spouses' home states.

Our disabled son remained in our hometown and became a fixture in the community. He used a wheelchair and was well-known around town. He passed at the age of 36, which didn't align with what the medical experts had cautiously predicted that he would not make it past his late teens. The city honored him by naming a new underpass after him—his portrait graces both entrances.

My wife and I have now been married for 55 years and are retired. Our biological son, who is now 52, works with troubled youth. He founded a year-round program for 12–18-year-olds that focuses on helping each participant identify their goals and then pairing them with mentors to assist them in developing the necessary skills.

I served as an elected school board member and helped consolidate three outdated, non-handicapped-accessible, asbestos-laden schools into one new elementary school, fully equipped to serve all children.

My wife and I are still politically active, both online and in our community. She sits on the handicapped parking committee. I spend several hours a day on DU, doing what I can to help reverse the political nightmare we’re living through.

We’re both stunned at how one-sided this country has become—and it’s hard to see a clear path forward. We donate directly to the candidates and causes we believe in, always by check, and without including anything that would land us on another endless mailing list.

Still, I wake up each morning to 18–25 new donation requests. It’s overwhelming. Right now, we’re focusing our support on Leaders We Deserve. It’s time to clear out the dead weight—those collecting paychecks while doing nothing to risk their seats or stand for what’s right.

I sure wish we had been able to leave our kids a better world than the one they are apparently going to inherit.