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.
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