My Own Memory

My father is buried in the Arlington National Cemetery.

I am getting to the age where the vicissitudes of life have mitigated my feelings towards him as a father and have changed into my respect of what he was to himself.

He was a "Full Bird Colonel" and "a mean son-of-a-bitch" by his own description. His favorite introduction quip was "I'm Colonel Hancock, who the hell are you?"

I understood the character of Colonel Jessup in A Few Good Men.

As a son, it is difficult to measure up. I could list the number of accolades I have in my life, but it never mattered to him.

Men like him have protected the rest of us from our own passivity and nuances.

Men like him have provided a moral compass from which we can deviate from.

Men like him are willing to carry the banner up front, and damn the torpedoes.

Men like him are arrogant, cavalier and really don't give a shit if you disagree.

At a high school baseball game in the late 60's, I saw him knock the hat off of a man who did not remove it for the Pledge of Allegiance.

I heard him call the President's office after something happened during the Cuba missile crisis and gave his advice on what to do.

Life for him was a mental and physical war with anyone and everyone. I understand full well the song by Garth Brooks, The Night I Called The Old Man Out.


It has taken me 55 years to get to this point to admit that I have a memory.