This is Stephen Sherman. He's a WWII veteran who was profiled in a Washington Post article by Dan Morse this week.
I love and admire military servicemen, anyone who chooses to serve our great country. Whenever I see a man or woman in uniform, I try to pay my respects, to thank them for serving and sacrificing.
On Sunday, January 18, 2009, after leaving the opening ceremony at the Lincoln Memorial, I saw Mr. Sherman, 88, sitting in front of the Institute of Medicine. His veterans cap was the first thing I noticed, all decked out with medals and decals. I made a beeline to say hello.
We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, both overjoyed to be taking part in such a momentous occasion. We shared phone numbers and email addresses, then promised to keep in touch. We have already spoken once by phone.
Mr. Sherman's story is not unusual. He, like many from his generation, never thought he'd live to see the day when a minority would become president. It was his personal mission to get to D.C. to witness it for himself. As reported in the article, Mr. Sherman requested cash in lieu of gifts for his last birthday so that he could pay for his trip to Barack Obama's inauguration. Having raised the funds, he flew from Los Angeles by himself. Once in the capital, he navigated the Metro system and found his way to the National Mall by himself. A true sign of determination and fortitude, in my opinion. (D.C.'s streets and Metro system have confounded me for years!)
This is more than just a story about meeting a veteran who went to the inauguration. It's an example of the excitement, familiarity and comraderie that was prevalent the entire weekend. We were a community of 2 million +. There was hardly a stranger among us. We laughed, we woo-hooed, we cried, we danced, we hi-fived, we ate, we drank, we lent a hand, we gave directions, we served, we listened, we sang, we celebrated – together.
Mr. Sherman described it best: "That's the way I always wanted to see America."
And that is why I braved single-digit temperatures, walked miles, and stood for hours. To experience the greatness of humanity, brother- and sisterhood, America. This was not the time to watch it from the sidelines.
And, again, thank you for your service, Mr. Sherman.
Posts
Terrific post, Nichole -- a wonderful recount of the joy of the day, and of your encounter with Mr. Sherman, a member of our greatest generation.
ReplyDeleteWe use words to elevate an ideal or a moment. But on Jan. 20, the moment transcended words. People will grapple with describing that day for generations.
What an amazing thing to have been there to see it all, and experience it all, for yourself.
It takes time to process such a profound experience and generate words to describe it. Still, you did remarkably well, and you are wise to put this experience, and your feelings, into words right away. You'll be able to return to this freshly written account again and again through the years (and I bet it will bring the moment back to life each time).
Once the euphoria subsides, your experience will no doubt be further enriched by an added sense of perspective -- that unique, introspective thing that settles in with the passage of time. I hope you'll continue writing about it. You have a way with words.
I've always struggled to write about awe-inspiring experiences on the heels of those events. One cannot simultaneously absorb *and* reflect such things. And frankly, that's how it should be. Some experiences are meant to fill your soul and stay within that vessel. We lose some of the sacredness if we pour it all out in words.
I am so glad to be following you on Twitter - you are an inspiration!
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Charlie. Sometimes a writer needs a little confirmation, validation of their efforts. And you have just provided that for me.
ReplyDeleteThere are many who can and have summarized the euphoria and the historic relevance. Those are very apparent. I hope to go a little deeper somehow.
The sheer torture.
Thanks for sharing your experience Nichole. I heard plenty of friends say 'I wish I could be there.' To which I would respond, 'I wish the inauguration were in May.' You're brave - for the cold. Mr. Sherman is brave too - for everything else. As a veteran of the USAF, I served under Regan - proudly. I was overseas, and held my head high when I mingled with locals. I was pretty young, and didn't really understand why I was respected the way I was. I just knew it was pretty special to be an American. I haven't really felt that way for a long time. Until now. I agree with Mr. Sherman, this is how I picture America - brothers and sisters of freedom, regardless of ethnicity or religion, gathering as one human 'idea' that is more powerful than any military on earth. And this unity is what I think still drives people from other countries to our shores - in hopes of being part of this great human experiment of love, hope and freedom. Thanks for sharing your experience. I wish I could have been there with you. And yet, I do wish it were in May.
ReplyDelete