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Jayne's avatar

Chris!!! This piece is so inspiring and comforting. You should send this to the White House. Seriously, they are looking to American Manufacturing for our future. You have highlighted something people just don't understand. Here it is. Calm. Reliable. Real. Stuff we need. Not silly stuff manufactured in China, like all the useless chachkees we buy on Amazon (that routinely break). Adjacently, I spent over 25 years in the Norfolk, Virginia, area where ship building and repairing is a major industry. I had no idea what that was, until I first moved there in 1980. It's massive! Not sexy but soooo important. Like seeing something for the first time, it is huge and complex. (You might consider a walk around Hampton Roads sometime. It's more than fascinating and the culture that built up around it is so diverse. Cultural, yet down-to-earth.) Anyway, when my daughter announced she was accepted to an apprenticeship at the shipyard, after getting her B.A. in communications, my response was O MY, O Why? Why after all we spent on her education. But, she did it. And it's been perfect! (It was an Obama program that incentivised women to join shipbuilding. So cool.) She graduated from the program after four years, was promoted year over year until she now has her dream job. Working for an organization that builds efficiencies and success in the ship building industry! Long live American industry. We don't need no "influencers." We need real people to do rewarding and meaningful work. And...thanks for your work! Thanks for showing us the world around us.

Sean D Sorrentino's avatar

I once took 30 days leave and spent it in Michigan City with my buddy who was getting out of the Army. I had a great time. The people were great and you're right, even in 1993 it was just so normal.

My favorite thing, however, was this house I kept passing between my friend's house and his girlfriend's house that had the 82nd Airborne flag flying. I was in the 82nd, so eventually I mustered up the courage to go knock on the door. The little old lady (from the perspective of a 24 year old paratrooper, anyone over 40 was "old") heard me say "I'm in the 82nd Airborne" and nearly dragged me inside to meet her husband. He would be so exited to meet me, she said. And then, right before she pulled me into his study she said, rather casually, I thought, "He's blind. He was shot in WWII."

And there I was, face to face with a no-shit, WWII veteran, who'd been shot in the head and blinded after a combat jump in Operation Market Garden. Now each of those drop zones on Ft Bragg weren't just names. They were literally places this guy had exited an aircraft in fright, and had fought his way across. He had come into Normandy as a replacement and then had jumped with the Division after that.

Craziest of all, he acted like I was somehow his equal. He was absolutely certain had I, an E4 in the 1990's version of his beloved Division, would have done at least as well as all his buddies and he had done. He'd helped make history, and I was just some dumb kid who was marginally capable of making it through my day without getting yelled at by my platoon sergeant, but he was sure I could have done as well as he did. American soldiers are so much better trained now, he explained. Better weapons, better equipment, smarter and stronger and better educated. But I wasn't entirely sure I was worthy to be living in a country he'd stopped a bullet for, much less to serve in the Division he'd fought in.

He'd lived in darkness for nearly 50 years by the time I'd met him, and was happy he'd been able to come home, get married, and have a life afterwards. And he was just some guy who lived in Michigan City.

Who knows what other treasures that "normal" town concealed.

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