My friend, Fred, was one of them.
I stood with Fred’s loving family and many dear friends to honor him one last time. He was an enthusiastic gardener who brought beauty to our street, and a devoted dad and husband whose pride in his family shone through everything he did. He and his beloved wife, Ruth, lived just up the street. If they saw my car in the driveway, they would often stop by simply to “visit,” bringing warmth, kindness, and easy conversation to my day.
Fred spoke most enthusiastically about an “Honor Flight” he and other veterans took to Washington, DC. A local merchant paid for the chartered flight and expenses, and volunteers guided them through the military monuments and sites. He could hardly stop talking about what the trip meant. When I once watched another Honor Flight depart—with veterans as excited as children and airport fire trucks sending them off in a gigantic water-cannon salute—everyone around me cheered. Fred, I miss you and am so proud to have shared in your final ceremony.
