Shortly after my 5th birthday, I remember that knock on the door. Watching from the top of the staircase, I watched my mother fall to her knees, clutching my unborn sister. My father had made the ultimate sacrifice. The next few weeks were a blur: military suits, tall women with big hats, tears dropping on my head 21 gun blasts. Ten days after Daddy's death, my third sister was born: the bright spot during a dismal time. How proud he would have been...For 32 years I wondered how he died. Finally in 1995, I visited Washington, D.C. and was proud and honored to see his name on The Wall. A few years later, we took our mother to witness this sight. I could ask "why" and never receive an answer, but I cherish the knowledge that Daddy died doing what he loved most besides his family - serving and protecting the great country we live in...The United States of America! I think of you daily even after 48 years and know that your children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren love you
Proudly, Your Daughter Dee