"My Version of America"
I was headed towards a job where the superintendent is a well-respected guy.
The very first time I met him (about 6 months back) I was a little tentative. I'm a safety guy and his job was set up perfectly. He had a sign on the trailer that said:
"I care about you & your family. Go home as you came in today...just a little more tired!"
The American Flag that hung on the trailer was also a little different. Construction guys fly the flag high when a building is finished, but it was odd to see one on the trailer door.
Nice touch...I thought.
Then I spotted the signs on the back of his work vehicle:
Vietnam POW.
His job was extremely orderly, and well-organized. As it so happens, we hit it off immediately. We had common goals of keeping guys safe.
All other visits to his site were similar and when I had something for him to correct, he did it promptly, and professionally.
I had about an hours drive to get to his site on Monday, and I thought of him in context of what had happened on NFL fields all across the country.
He had voted for Trump...told me so.
His resume spoke for itself:
3 Purple Hearts.
A case of agent orange.
Time as a prisoner.
I'd be an idiot and ask him...
...because I'm that way.
"Come on, Cliff," he said. "You really have to ask me what I thought of those guys kneeling?"
"I have a good idea about what you might say," I said.
"Let's see how well you know me," he said.
Talking politics is never a grand idea. I'm actually exhausted by it, but I gave it a shot.
"You aren't a fan of the kneeling," I said, "But you'd enlist again if it meant that those players lost the right to do it."
He laughed.
Extended his hand.
"You're damn right I would."
But he didn't stop there.
"America is different for all of us," he said. "I have bullets in my body. They'll always be there. I received a lovely parting gift too. The Agent Orange does a number on me, but I felt proud that they had their platform, even if I think it's ill-conceived for whatever reason."
I was right about him, for sure. Yet, he wasn't done.
"My view of America and your view of America are different because we've lived different lives. Our views are even more distinct than those of a gay man or a black man or a Hispanic. The differences are what make us great. When I was in those wars, I was fighting with everyone in mind."
An American hero.
One who wants no glory at all.
"I was sad yesterday though, and it wasn't the players who made me sad. It was the people who are really quick to dismiss people who are different. You know I voted for Trump. What he said was embarrassing, but what do I know? I only defended those freedoms on three different tours."
We didn't talk about it much after that.
We talked about life and golf and our physical difficulties. I was actually limping worse than he was.
"We'll be all right, I think," he said, as I shook his hand on the way out. "We just gotta' listen to one another."
Did I tell you that he's also an ordained minister?
"And once in awhile we gotta' let God in."
"See you next time," I said.
"By the way," he said. "I would've been disappointed if you read me wrong about the flag argument."
I laughed.
"Nah," I said. "I had you pegged from the start."
The very first time I met him (about 6 months back) I was a little tentative. I'm a safety guy and his job was set up perfectly. He had a sign on the trailer that said:
"I care about you & your family. Go home as you came in today...just a little more tired!"
The American Flag that hung on the trailer was also a little different. Construction guys fly the flag high when a building is finished, but it was odd to see one on the trailer door.
Nice touch...I thought.
Then I spotted the signs on the back of his work vehicle:
Vietnam POW.
His job was extremely orderly, and well-organized. As it so happens, we hit it off immediately. We had common goals of keeping guys safe.
All other visits to his site were similar and when I had something for him to correct, he did it promptly, and professionally.
I had about an hours drive to get to his site on Monday, and I thought of him in context of what had happened on NFL fields all across the country.
He had voted for Trump...told me so.
His resume spoke for itself:
3 Purple Hearts.
A case of agent orange.
Time as a prisoner.
I'd be an idiot and ask him...
...because I'm that way.
"Come on, Cliff," he said. "You really have to ask me what I thought of those guys kneeling?"
"I have a good idea about what you might say," I said.
"Let's see how well you know me," he said.
Talking politics is never a grand idea. I'm actually exhausted by it, but I gave it a shot.
"You aren't a fan of the kneeling," I said, "But you'd enlist again if it meant that those players lost the right to do it."
He laughed.
Extended his hand.
"You're damn right I would."
But he didn't stop there.
"America is different for all of us," he said. "I have bullets in my body. They'll always be there. I received a lovely parting gift too. The Agent Orange does a number on me, but I felt proud that they had their platform, even if I think it's ill-conceived for whatever reason."
I was right about him, for sure. Yet, he wasn't done.
"My view of America and your view of America are different because we've lived different lives. Our views are even more distinct than those of a gay man or a black man or a Hispanic. The differences are what make us great. When I was in those wars, I was fighting with everyone in mind."
An American hero.
One who wants no glory at all.
"I was sad yesterday though, and it wasn't the players who made me sad. It was the people who are really quick to dismiss people who are different. You know I voted for Trump. What he said was embarrassing, but what do I know? I only defended those freedoms on three different tours."
We didn't talk about it much after that.
We talked about life and golf and our physical difficulties. I was actually limping worse than he was.
"We'll be all right, I think," he said, as I shook his hand on the way out. "We just gotta' listen to one another."
Did I tell you that he's also an ordained minister?
"And once in awhile we gotta' let God in."
"See you next time," I said.
"By the way," he said. "I would've been disappointed if you read me wrong about the flag argument."
I laughed.
"Nah," I said. "I had you pegged from the start."
Comments