Memorial Day

I am not the holder of the rights to any of the stories of those names I know who did not make it back. So today I want to remember my uncle, Byron “Smitty” Smith.

Tomorrow would have been my Uncle Byron’s 95th birthday. As far as I know he and I are the only U.S. veterans in my family, though to be honest, I’m not all that close with either side of my family.

After I completed my technical school training to be a Financial Services Specialist in the U.S. Air Force, I visited my uncle in his hometown of Texhoma, Texas, on my way back to Colorado. I hadn’t seen him or my aunt since I was little.  I remember she made fried okra and he and I talked for hours.  I mostly just listened.

He told me the tale of his joining the Army Air Corps when he was 17 at the tail end of War II.

I was still very new to being in uniform, but I remember being fascinated by how little had changed since he served. A truth born out even further as I, not long after our visit, served during Desert Storm.

I regret not having spent more time with him but I’m grateful we had that time to bond at a level I never have with any other blood-related family member.

Wishing you all a safe and meaningful Memorial Day.