Speech: Preserving the Past, Gifting it to the Future

Copyright © 2025

by Ralph F. Couey

Good Evening,

On behalf of the USS Missouri Memorial Association, I want to welcome you and express our sincere and heartfelt gratitude for the many ways you continue to support Battleship Missouri and its programs. 

My name is Ralph Couey. I am a tour guide and a former crew member of Missouri, serving from 1988 to 1990, the last two years of my Navy career.  I was a Chief Petty Officer in charge of Combat Engagement Center and the 65 good men who worked there.  As you might expect, many memories lurk among the passageways and compartments, ready to ambush me unexpectedly.  I can tell you that the first day I came back aboard to work here was an emotional experience.  I remember entering the ship's interior, being enveloped by that familiar scent of steel, paint, and fuel oil, and knowing I had returned home. 

Since that day, I’ve had nothing but fun, and I am so pleased and proud to work with such a great crew. I am hard-pressed to remember when I’ve been around a happier, more caring group of people. 

There are many memorials in the United States, touchstones of times of challenge and adversity, times that demanded from each of us our best efforts, passions, courage, and, most importantly, our unity. These places are where we can return to those moments and eras that molded us both as a nation and a people. It is good that those events can still inspire us because it is so vital that we remember our past.  We must honor those who went before, stood up to the dangers, and did the arduous work that brought us to this day.  Their stories, those accounts we need to tell and re-tell again. 

Memory is fickle. Time has a way of softening details and changing perceptions. For a given event in history, there are two groups of people: those who remember and those who learn.  We who were around and cogent on that terrible day we know as 9/11 have strong memories of that tragedy, driven by shock, sorrow, and, yes, rage.  We watched, most on television, some who were present as those aircraft knifed into both buildings of the World Trade Center.  We learned about the attack on the Pentagon and watched with disbelieving eyes as that great concrete battleship burned.  We heard about Flight 93 and the heroism of those passengers and crew who sacrificed their lives and prevented an even larger tragedy.  That day unfolded before us as no day ever had, burned into our memories.  We remember what we were doing, how we found out, how we felt, and what we feared. 

In the 23 years since a new generation was born and grew up, and 9/11 is different for them.  They don’t have our powerful emotional memories, so while they watch the abundant video footage, they may feel some emotion.  But there is no personal link to that day. And unless their parents and teachers have been diligent, for many of them, I suspect it might be just another test question. 

This is why it is so very important not only to pass on the facts of that day but also to convey the emotional impact we felt and why—how it changed our lives and our world. If we in this room choose not to do that, then we ensure that 9/11 will one day be just a dry recitation devoid of meaning or purpose. 

You see, it’s not enough to have a memorial.  Its meaning is incomplete without the story behind it.  It gives the memorial depth, breadth, and, most importantly, a connection.  Missouri’s Tour Guides tell that story in such a way that it connects with our visitors, hopefully, that they learn that Missouri’s history is also their history.  We take that responsibility very seriously. For those who once knew, we help them remember.  For those who never knew, we help them learn.  When people like you lend your support to a memorial, you help ensure that the story is not forgotten, that it never fades, and it will remain just as real and powerful as the day it happened. 

I spent several years studying the Civil War, particularly the events surrounding those pivotal three days during July 1863 around Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  Two enormous armies collided in that small farm town for no other reason than the presence of the extensive road network. 

From July 1^st through the 3^rd, North and South gave battle.  The cost in blood was horrendous, with 51,000 casualties on both sides, including around 10,000 dead.  

When we lived in nearby Virginia, I visited the battlefield many times and was always deeply moved by its solemnity. It seemed that I could feel in the landscape the very weight of the tragic loss of life. 

One evening, I was standing on the hill known as Little Round Top, lost in my thoughts in the gathering dusk. Nearby, a young family was standing together. I heard the voice of a young girl ask, “Daddy, what happened here?” 

The father knelt, gently wrapped his arm around his daughter and began to speak softly.  And thus, the story of Gettysburg was passed to a new generation. 

Ultimately, that is the essence of what we do aboard Missouri: preserve and pass on the story of this battleship and the country whose flag she still proudly flies into the hearts and minds of new generations and, thus, into the future.  In the past, we have always depended on the voices and memories of the veterans of that era.  But those voices are falling silent, lost to the merciless ravages of time.  It becomes the duty of our voices to carry their memories forward.  In a very real sense, Missouri is also their monument, a living, vibrant testament to their courage and valor.  

Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, one of the heroes of Gettysburg, was speaking of that battlefield when he said,

“Heroism is latent in every human soul, however humble or unknown.

In great deeds, something abides. On great fields, something stays.

Spirits linger to consecrate the ground.

And reverent men and women from afar, and generations that know us not,

shall come to this field to ponder and dream.

And the power of that vision will pass into their souls.” 

Visitors come to the USS Missouri from afar, some generations who never knew of World War II.  But they come here and touch the past. Through that touch, they learn of the toil and loss, the courage and valor, the sacrifice and struggle.  They sense the darkness of war but revel in the glorious light of hope that shone forth throughout the world when peace was finally restored, restored here on the decks of Battleship Missouri. 

This ship must stay alive.  Those stories must continue to be told.  Each generation must be taught of the past in a way that it becomes personal and meaningful.  We preserve, and we pass on.  This is our commitment.  Your role is no less vital.  Without the continued support of people like you, Pier Foxtrot Five would be empty.  And a crucial part of our nation’s history would fade into silence and be forgotten. 

As long as Missouri exists, we will keep this story alive. We are a memorial, and we have a mission. That mission is to remember—to remember all those who served and especially to remember and honor those who will never be coming home. Join us in that mission.  Help us keep the story alive for today, for all the tomorrows yet to come, and for the generations we will never know.  

Thank you, and good evening.

Speech: A Look to the Past, a Charge to the Future

Copyright © 2025

by Ralph F. Couey

On December 7^th, 1941, at 7:55 AM, the quiet calm of a Sunday morning was shattered by explosions and the hoarse sound of general quarters alarms.

In the first few minutes of the attack, hundreds of American Sailors, Soldiers, and Marines had already lost their lives.  This was the tragedy.  Then came the triumph.  The personnel aboard the ships did not wait for orders but rather reacted in accordance with their training and, in those same first few moments, filled the sky with anti-aircraft bursts.  It is important to note that most of them were barely older than these magnificent student musicians here.

The war that began with that attack lasted 3 years and 10 months, during which time some 69 million people lost their lives.

Then, on September 2^nd, 1945, USS Missouri was anchored in Tokyo Bay, Japan.  The destroyer USS Lansdowne brought a delegation of Japan’s representatives alongside.  Among them was the Foreign Minister Mamoru Shigamitsu.  For years, he led the peace faction within Japan’s government.  This did not make him popular with the hard-liners, who wanted to fight to the last man and the last bullet.  Mr. Shigamitsu was targeted several times for assassination.  One of those attempts cost him his right leg.  It was painfully difficult for him to have to climb down the side of a destroyer, then climb up the side of this battleship, and then up an additional ladder in order to arrive on the starboard side 01 level where the ceremony would take place.  I also know that when someone risks their life several times in the cause of peace, that by definition makes him a tough guy.

At the appointed time, General of the Army Douglas MacArthur came on deck and opened the ceremony with a few words.  It is important to note that in 5,000 years of Japan’s history, she had never been conquered, never been defeated, never been occupied, never had to surrender to anybody.  So this act of coming here and submitting to both surrender and occupation was not only unique to their experiences, but it was also a powerful shock to their entire country. We need to remember that today.

But when General MacArthur began speaking, he didn’t talk of revenge, retaliation, or recrimination.  Instead, he spoke of justice, tolerance, peace, and reconciliation.  This took the Japanese completely by surprise.  On the day when they had come here to surrender to their bitterest enemy, the last thing they expected to be treated with this level of dignity and respect. 

When General MacArthur completed his opening remarks, he invited…not ordered…invited the Japanese to come forward and sign, which they did.  Over the next 23 minutes, the required signatures were applied, and the war was over.  General MacArthur, speaking over a global radio network, said the following words:

“Today, the guns are silent.  A great tragedy has ended, a great victory has been won.  Death no longer rains down from the sky.  The seas bear only commerce.  Men everywhere walk upright in the sunlight.  And the entire world lies quietly at peace.”

One of the Japanese representatives recorded in his diary that the General’s words turned the deck of this warship into an altar for peace.

Missouri is a magnificent sight, a presence both majestic and powerful.  She is a vessel of war.  But she is also a symbol of peace.  It was here on these decks where humanity’s longest and bloodiest war came to an end.  It was here on these decks where peace was restored.  And it was here on these decks where hope was reborn throughout the world.

That day was Day 1 of a new way forward.  Once the bitterest of enemies, Japan and the United States became the closest of friends.

Those of us who work aboard the Missouri tell this story with respect, dignity, passion, and pride.  Those who once knew come here and remember.  Those who never knew come to us and learn.

It is easy to look only at the guns, missiles, and armor and conclude that this is Missouri's only language.  But when you stand on that deck and look at that plaque, know that this ship of war is also a place of peace.

This is how I know my ship, a place where the seemingly impossible dream of peace became a reality.

I am proud, so very proud to share this story with you.  I hope that from this day we can all realize what can be done when we are strong enough, united enough, and courageous enough to do the impossible.

For our students here, I also have a personal message.

In the near future, your community, your country, and your world will become your responsibility.  The time for talking and complaining will end.  The time of doing and fixing will begin.  Problems exist, and more are on the way.  Your intelligence, passion, and energy will be needed.

People are called ordinary for a reason.  They don’t stand out, they don’t step up, they don’t accomplish much.  Ordinary people don’t change the world or challenge problems.  To choose to be ordinary and average is to float downstream on the current of indifference, never leaving a sign of their passing.  But the problems remain, the challenges unmet.  Lives that could have counted for incredible things are wasted.

I challenge you to resist "average."  I charge you to turn your back on "ordinary."  Choose instead to be incredible, magnificent, astonishing.  Rise above expectation.  All of you have been given individual gifts, talents, and abilities that belong to no one else.  It is your responsibility to use them.  Do not ever accept the status quo.  Never accept that things cannot be different because it's just how things are.  I am a member of the Woodstock Generation, and I pass the passion for change and the energy to change things that was ours to you.  I challenge you to create a better place, not only for you, but for all those who will follow.  Your time is now.  Do not waste this chance.  Do not let us down.

I watched you march proudly down this pier, and it was an inspiring sight.  You must now march just as confidently and energetically into the future that awaits all of you.  Stand tall.  Be strong.  Step up and lead with optimism and compassion, driven by the engine of fresh ideas and the passion of hope. 

We present to you our world.  Make it better.  Make it yours.

I appreciate your coming to my ship today, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day aboard the Battleship. 

Speech: Time to Lead

Copyright © 2025

by Ralph F. Couey

There is a story about a young Marine who won a medal for fearlessly charging an enemy position.  He was asked later how he summoned the courage for such an act.  He replied, “I wasn’t running toward the enemy.  I was running away from my sergeant.”

When someone joins the military, it can be an unsettling experience.  It’s an entirely new and alien environment.  They are rarely sure what to do or when to do it.  In those moments, they look for help, direction, and assurance.  The person they always look to is the one with all the stripes.  There, they will find knowledge, wisdom, experience, encouragement, and the occasional kick in the ass.  That person is the Non-Commissioned Officer.  That leavening influence in a unit is essential in the day-to-day of peacetime.  It is absolutely critical in war.

It takes someone special to be a soldier, and it takes something rare to lead them. The roles of a Staff Sergeant are many and varied. They include training, administration, instruction, counseling, discipline, and being the subject matter expert on being a soldier.  But beyond those roles is leadership.

Soldiers want and need to be led, whether they realize it or not.  No matter how confident a soldier is, the acquisition of experience takes time.  That requires the steadying influence of the “been there, done that” NCO.  Therefore, all NCOs are responsible for teaching not only the technical aspects of this profession of arms but also the value of discipline.   In battle, that discipline will keep a young soldier on the line.  And alive.

However, the most important things that an NCO can impart to the troops are the more profound lessons of courage, honor, integrity, and commitment.  These are the most important reasons for wearing the uniform. 

An NCO helps soldiers grow as they respond to the challenges they face.  To confront adversity, rather than turning away.  To learn what it takes to become a leader.  To find within themselves the power and strength to stand their ground.  This was always for me, as a Chief Petty Officer, the most satisfying and fulfilling aspect of my job, taking a raw, nervous, inexperienced kid and watching them become a strong, confident, and skilled fighting sailor.  I’m sure many of you standing here also remember and treasure those moments in your careers.

Admiral Mike Boorda, a Mustang who rose to the position of Chief of Naval Operations, once told a group of Chief Petty Officers, “I may run the Navy.  But I assure you, the Navy runs because of you.”  This is an undeniable finite truth that applies to all the armed services.  All the great things the Army has ever done were because the Sergeants made it happen.  You are where the rubber meets the road.  Where battles are won…or lost. 

This country will likely find itself in another war in the coming years.  If that happens, you will be at the tip of the spear.  Know that the outcome of any battle is absolutely dependent on all of you doing your duty.  And on the sergeants to lead the way.  But wherever you give battle, make sure that the enemy knows that field belongs to the United States Army.

Sergeants, your time is now. Step up. Stand tall. And lead.

Re-learning How to Love -- And Trust Again.

 

Falling in love once again...

Copyright © 2025

By Ralph F. Couey

A lot has happened since the last time I checked in here.  Cheryl and I got sick in March, which stretched well into April before whatever it was finally released us from its vile clutches.  It left us both sapped of energy, and it's been a slow road back.  Then, about the same time we put that behind us, My Urologist decided that my continuing struggles with prostate issues had come to a head, and last Wednesday, I had surgery.  It wasn't major, as surgeries go, but, sparing you the details, my plumbing system is already improved.  I was out for about 2 hours, and it's taken another huge effort post-anesthesia to regain my stamina.  

Now, some good news.  Through one of our daughters, we were introduced to a wonderful lady who has been suffering for years from crippling chronic pain.  She was looking for someone to adopt her dog, a cute little Bichon named Pickles, as she wouldn't be able to care for her any longer.  We love dogs but haven't had one since we lost our beloved Tweeter in 2016.  He had been with us for 17 years, and that loss was sheer heartbreak for both of us.  We avoided getting another one because of that.  As one wise person said, a dog's only fault is that they don't live long enough.  Long story short, we agreed to adopt Pickles and will take her in late May after I return from Virginia.  The circumstances are sad, but we are happy to once again have a furry, loving companion back in our family.  We met with them on Monday and had a wonderful, meaningful time together.  This will involve some changes in our lifestyle, but none that will cause us any regret whatsoever.  It does leave us with the feeling that, as ecstatic as we are to get Pickles, we could feel the lady's heart breaking because of this necessary choice.  

Our brother-in-law is near death. He has been sliding backwards for some time now, and his health is at a critical juncture.  He has decided to give up and is impatiently waiting for the end.  This is, of course, very hard on the family, particularly since just over a year ago, they welcomed their first grandchild.  It has been a very sad, stressful time for us all.

Last year, a big trip to Japan and Okinawa was planned, and Cheryl and a number of family members are leaving on May 8th.  This will be Cheryl's first trip to her ancestral homelands, and she is looking forward to the trip.  As part of it, they will be attending the Rose Festival there.  The few days in Okinawa should be amazing.  Her mother's family is originally from Okinawa, and I hope she can do a little family research while there.  I know that once I better understood my family's history from Ireland and France, many questions were answered for me.  

Her mother hasn't changed much as she creeps ever closer to her 99th birthday in October.  She still recognizes us, and remains the sweet, loving, kind person she has always been, but dementia has taken away so much from her.  

Once I return from Virginia, I will be on my own for a while until Cheryl returns from Japan.  Hopefully, all the bills will be paid on time, and the house won't become a disaster.  I do have a couple of projects planned. Hopefully, they will be successfully accomplished.  We still have a lot of stuff in the house that belongs to other people, but I'm getting to the point that, since they don't seem to want it, I'll just get rid of it.  I also have to make some decisions about the accumulation of my own stuff that needs to go away.  That means that, <sigh>, I have to go through my book collection again.

I leave the same day, but for Virginia. Our son contacted me after the dates for Japan were set and invited me to visit them for a couple of weeks.  This visit coincides with the championship rounds for Ian's NFL Flag and his travel team.  I am very excited to watch him in person.  His video highlights have been nothing short of amazing, and the reports of his performances have been incredible.  I'll get to spend time with their youngest, Sophie, who is such a joy to be around.  In addition to piano, she has picked up a brass instrument called a baritone, kinda like a miniature tuba.  As I used to play one, I am so looking forward to watching and listening to her.  The oldest, Diana, should be coming home from her first year at college about that time, and I can't wait to hear her stories.  They should be epic.

Life at the USS Missouri has been a lot of fun.  I enjoy every tour I lead, and listening to the stories of people from all over the world never gets old.  I gave a tour to the Deputy Prime Minister of New Zealand, and a lion-hearted soul if there ever was one.  I continue to get positive comments from our visitors, and I'm a little squeamish to admit that never gets old, either.  A colleague is getting promoted in her Army Reserve unit and asked me to do the promotion.  I know how important this is in a servicemember's life, and I was surprised and humbled to be asked to contribute.  Oh, and she also wants me in uniform.  So, this Friday, I will once again don my khakis, pin on the anchors, pull on the hat, and be a Chief Petty Officer again, even if just for a couple of hours.  

So much of the last two months has been a reminder of how quickly life can turn, from good to bad, and back again.  The time when days were repeatable is long past, even for us in the silver hair set.  That life, despite the most careful planning, is patently unpredictable.  It requires fewer charts and graphs, and more nimble feet to dance around the things that barrel into our lives so unexpectedly.  And rudely.  But dance, we will.  And hope for good outcomes, and pray for the strength to survive the bad ones.  

And cherish each day, no matter what comes.

That Day...And What's Coming Next

Copyright © 2025

by Ralph F. Couey

It's been a week and a day since Super Bowl LIX, and I think I'm finally in a good place to reflect on the disaster that day for the Kansas City Chiefs.

First off, All Hail the Eagles!  They played a great game and hit on all cylinders in all three areas, offense, defense, and special teams.  They did everything a champion is supposed to do, and they certainly deserve all the props that go their way.

Now.

I think many of us wearing red that day knew that the jig was up by halftime.  They were down by a bunch, and while the defense put up a courageous fight, the offense and special teams...didn't.  I have been a Chiefs fan as long as there has been a Kansas City Chiefs.  Across that span of 62 years, I've seen some spectacular games.  I've also seen a bunch of clunkers, which included most of the decade of the 1980s.  In the 6 seasons, Patrick Mahomes has been the starter, this team and this city have witnessed an unprecedented run of success.  They've been in 5 of 6 Super Bowls, winning three.  Their appearance in the AFC Championship game, most years hosting, became so frequent that people began to refer to the game as the "Arrowhead Invitational."  As fans, after years of epically bad football, we became used to winning.  Dangerous habit.

My feelings after the game were...confused.  Of course, I felt bad about them losing, especially the humiliating way it happened.  But, and it took a few days to get there, what I really felt was the strange sense of...losing.  After all that success, the air came out of the tire.

There were three important things that came to mind.  First, Andy Reid called a terrible offensive game plan.  After a perfunctory attempt at running, he went to a plan that would have worked well if Tyreek Hill was still running around downfield.  The offensive line, a band-aid project at left tackle in particular, melted before the ferocious Philly line, the biggest one in the NFL.  Now, Mahomes on the run is usually a very dangerous thing.  But this leads to number 2: Patrick Mahomes had the worst game anybody can ever remember.  He was tentative, indecisive, and showed very little judgment in how he read the field.  He missed open receivers and was blind to some choice opportunities with open guys down the field.  His best weapon, the scramble, was crushed.

The third thing is very sobering.  Except for the defense, the Chiefs were completely flat.  At one point this year, they played three games in eleven days.  I was expecting them to be flat by that third game.  Their performance in the Super Bowl reflected a team unprepared to play the game.  That charge is laid squarely in the laps and the consciences of the coaching staff.  You can have the most fabulous collection of talented players in history.  But if there aren't the coaches to teach and guide them, maintain discipline, and run the game plans, then the team is useless.  The Chiefs have had, in the recent past, some of the most effective coaches in the NFL.  I don't know what they did in the two weeks before the game, but it wasn't useful or even good. 

So.

Now I've got that off my chest, there are some hopeful things to consider.

We all worry about Travis Kelce.  We all heard his remarks on the New Heights podcast, and my heart ached for him.  Clearly a proud professional and a lock for first-round HOF.  But he looked and sounded crushed.  You could see in his eyes the daunting climb of next season already weighing on him.  Missouri is a horrible place to be outside in July and August.  The heat soars into triple digits, and the accompanying humidity has to be felt to be believed.  I stayed out of it most of the time.  When duty called (lawn mowing), I donned shorts and a t-shirt and did my task.  Afterward, I fled indoors for the AC and a cold drink.  For NFL players, those horrendous days involve strapping on pads and running full tilt around in that sauna for hours at a time.  It wasn't fun cutting the grass, and it can't be fun doing it in pads at a full sprint.  That's what Travis sees.  He also sees a regular season that is 17 games.  The Chiefs have always been in the postseason, so they are actually playing 20 games per year.  Do the math.  Over the past 6 seasons, that's an additional one and a half seasons.  That's a lot of bruises, strains, contusions, maybe cracked ribs, any one of which would put us on the couch for a couple days.  The players keep playing.  The human body, even a professional athlete can only take so much abuse.

The decision is supposed to be made by mid-March.  I know that he's considering his options, and he has many, perhaps becoming a new Avenger, among other things.  But one thing we feel, as fans, is we can't see Travis closing the door on his career after a clunker.  

If Travis decides to hang 'em up, we will miss him.  Terribly.  Patrick Mahomes will miss him even more.  But he has earned this and should take this route before suffering some serious, even debilitating, injury.  Go live your life, my man.  You deserve it.

So, now the question begs, what happens now?  The Chiefs have a good nucleus of young talent, particularly at wide receiver.  They do have some decisions to make, some of them painful, such as a now 30-year-old Chris Jones.  There will be a few opportunities in the draft.  The offensive line needs a long-term fix.  But one thing can be expected to be present in 2025.

Even through all the angst after the game, there was also resolve.  This is a proud team; those who return will be steely-eyed in their determination.  This was a stain to be cleaned.  A dishonor to be righted.  And a humiliation to be expunged.  For those reasons...heaven help the rest of the AFC.

I fully expect the Chiefs to be back and winning. They will make the playoffs and be in a position to return to the Super Bowl.  Many are ready to bury this team.  That grave, however, will be for some other team.

The Cost That Must Be Paid for Freedom

 

Copyright © 2025

by Ralph F. Couey

Freedom is not free. 

This statement has become timeworn, perhaps even trite.  But its use, perhaps overuse, hasn’t diminished the fact that it is still fundamentally true.

In what was then colonial America, a group of restless idealists decided that after decades of mistreatment by Britain, enough was enough. After countless hours of fractious, even combative debate, they published their intent to break from the Crown and form a new country. 

This was an incredibly bold and courageous move against what was then the most powerful empire on Earth.  They were, in fact, committing treason, the punishment for which was death.  Also at risk were their families, homes, and everything they had earned and built.  The risk was enormous, but they did not hesitate. 

The war resulting from that Declaration of Independence was long, brutal, and costly.  The army suffered bitter cold, hunger, and sickness.  Desertions were common.  The war was almost lost on several occasions but for the dynamic presence of a Virginia planter, George Washington.  His inestimable leadership, strength, and tactical brilliance kept the army together and allowed him to execute a series of bold, brilliant attacks that eventually drove the British out of America.  

Even after such an improbable victory, the internal struggles continued.  What kind of government would it be?  A republic with a strong central government and subordinate states?  Or a confederacy characterized by a weak central authority and autonomous states? Some of these questions were addressed in the Constitution, which required 13 more years of arguing.  Other questions would take a costly Civil War to find the answers. 

What is most wonderful about this entity we call the United States of America is that we have not yet reached our final form.  It has been a continual experiment in freedom and liberty, constrained by responsibility and accountability.  This is why the Constitution was never intended to be a final product and would be amended repeatedly.  Many ideas have been tried and accepted.  Many others have been considered and cast aside.  We have made mistakes, yes.  But we have not, nor will we ever stop trying to get it right.  Today, we are still asking tough questions and seeking difficult answers.  Debates go on with the same passion as they did in that hot, humid summer of 1776.  We are still a young country compared to the history of this world, and we will always seek a better way, a better life.  We continue to challenge expectations, even accepted assumptions.  We remain convinced that no matter how magnificent our achievements are, we can always do better. 

As a tour guide aboard the USS Missouri Memorial, I talk to people from all over the world.  They have told me that what sets Americans apart is our absolute refusal to accept average.  As a culture, as a people, we are driven by excellence, and not just the hope but the expectation that we will not only succeed but even exceed the goal.  We compete to be the best.  We hate losing.  Even coming in second causes us to grumble and grind our teeth.  It has been that unrelenting drive for excellence that has resulted in our supremacy in so many fields: science, technology, engineering, math, bioscience, medicine, and the arts.  We won the race to the moon, to Mars, and the rest of the planets.  Today, Voyager I, Voyager II, and Pioneer X, three technological ambassadors built and launched by America, have left our solar system and started their journey into the galaxy.  There, they will travel for millennia, carrying a message from humanity to intelligence far beyond that we were here and that our restless, questing intelligence led us to the stars.  

It takes courage to challenge the unknown.  But America has never lacked that courage.  Our willingness as a country to accept that challenge does not come from government mandate.  It comes from us, from how our nation was formed:  Of the people, By the people, and for the people.  President John Kennedy once said, “For in a democracy, every citizen, regardless of his interest in politics, 'holds office.'  Every one of us is in a position of responsibility.”  We who are here today and those who will follow us will be the ones who determine if we will continue to reach beyond the stars or look only downward and dig our own graves.  We are a restless people.  Let us always be restless.  Our unwillingness to accept the present as permanent will always propel us upwards.  In that soaring journey, none of us can afford to sit quietly on the sidelines. 

We had a granddaughter named Zoe, who was born with a serious birth defect, missing a part of her fifth chromosome.  Now, there are 46 chromosomes in each human cell.  Cells are microscopic.  Chromosomes even tinier.  One might think that missing such an infinitesimally small thing might not be that big of a deal.  But in fact, it left her severely disabled. We lost her at the tender age of five months. 

Each of us is only one of over 330 million people.  Like a chromosome within a cell, that may seem small and inconsequential.  But in a representative republic governed by the will of her people, there are no small parts, no insignificant people.  

Nora Jones sang a song, “American Anthem,” in which were these words: 

For those who think they have nothing to share

Who fear in their hearts there is no hero there

Know each quiet act of dignity is that which fortifies

The soul of a nation that will never die. 

There’s no magic wand, no Jedi hand wave that can make that happen.  It is too easy to look in the mirror and decide we have nothing to contribute.  However, each individual American is a collection of unique gifts, talents, and abilities that can spring to life in the fire of passion and possibility.  The individual must open the door and choose to turn those gifts loose upon the world. 

However, for this nation to live, we must decide to live together.  We have differences, yes.  However, each individual has walked a separate path, a unique journey that has shaped their life and their feelings.  We don’t have to agree on everything.  But we must respect each other’s journey.  Instead, let us look at things we have in common that can unite rather than divide us.  Remember those remarkable days after 9/11 when we as a nation stood together, arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder.  And remember that an America thus united cannot be defeated.

There is no better example of this than the passengers and crew of Flight 93 on that terrible day.  If you had been in the airport that morning and encountered one of them and asked later for a description, you might have used the word “ordinary.”  As events unfolded, we know now that they were anything but ordinary.  In the face of grave danger, they decided together, stood together, and acted…together. 

John Wayne once said, “All battles are fought by scared men who’d rather be someplace else.”  The actions of those people on that day were called valorous, brave, and heroic.  Undoubtedly, they felt fear.  But that did not stop them.  The biggest difference, after all, between the courageous and the cowardly is how one reacts to that fear.  Fear can be allowed to collapse into mindless, paralyzing panic.  But at that moment, we must realize that something needs to be done; step up and act.  That defines courage, the willingness to push fear aside and do what must be done.  Once again, President Kennedy: “The cost of freedom is always high, but Americans have always paid it.” 

We live in perilous times in a dangerous world.  Once distant and indistinct, the drumbeats of war are now beating loudly.  We hear them from the West, from China and North Korea.  We hear them from the East, from Russia and Iran, and in seemingly every direction from terrorist groups all over the world.  It is a time when our greatest courage and strength is needed.  But it is also a time when we face serious divisions from within.  After 9/11, we recognized and embraced that we were Americans first, last, and foremost.  We found that unity at a moment when we truly needed it.  And we can find it again.  It was an impassioned Patrick Henry who proclaimed, “United we stand, divided we fall!  Let us not split into factions which must destroy that union upon which our existence hangs."  

The future of The United States of America ultimately depends on what we choose to do today, how we choose to act, and if we choose to stand together.  This is our choice and our responsibility.  Abraham Lincoln was speaking to Congress, but his words should resonate with us during these divisive times: “Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history. The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down in honor or dishonor to the latest generation.  We, even we here, hold the power and bear the responsibility.” 

The freedoms we possess and the freedoms we desire completely depend upon our willingness to pay the price and endure the cost of those freedoms.  The world is watching us, and as long as we continue to ring that great bell of freedom, those clear, strong peals will be heard beyond our country, the sound of hope for those who have none.  A desperate world has thrust leadership upon us. Let us rise and face that challenge. Let us accept that responsibility.  And let us lead with intelligence, strength, and compassion. 

In our nearly 250 years, the United States of America has accomplished much.  But before us is a future fraught with peril, a steep, rocky, and treacherous path over which we must walk, a mountain we must climb.  

We must face that mountain in the same way we always have, with courage, strength, and unity.  This is truly what we are as a nation and who we truly are as a people.  This is America!  We are Americans!  Nobody else can do this. Nobody else will do this.  Let us rise together, work together, and succeed together.  And together, we will bring humanity into the light of freedom!

Learning the What, and the Why Behind It

 

Hubble Ultra Deep Field © NASA/Hubble

There are about 10,000 galaxies in this image.

There is still so much to learn...

Copyright © 2025

by Ralph F. Couey

Like most writers, I have a lot of curiosity.  Most of that occurs in the normal pace of life.  I'll notice something and ask myself, " Why is that there?" or "How does that work?" and especially, "How and why did that happen?"  Those questions trigger in my brain a restless little gnome that proceeds to run around wildly in its allotted space, shouting for attention.  That tiny imp won't sit down and shut up until I've at least tried to answer the questions.

In the ancient, dusty past, that meant a trip to a library, sometimes at a university, to spend hours flipping through card catalogs, followed by repeated trips into the stacks to chase down sometimes obscure tomes containing the information I would be seeking, hoping that someone hadn't checked it out.  Then I had to sit down and read the book and take notes.  This is a process that would take hours, sometimes days. Younger folks these days, spoiled by the Internet have no clue about the sheer drudgery and frustration of research. 

The problem with books is that events move so fast these days that they're instantly obsolete once published.  Today, the world is literally available in our hands or even on our wrists.  I am constantly reminded and amazed that humans landed on the moon using a computer that was many times less powerful than my smartwatch.  The problem with such an avalanche of information is successfully judging the veracity of sources.  The 'Net is full of stupid people saying idiotic things, and care must be taken to ensure factual truth and not be taken in by an attractive stream of rhetoric.  That takes time, patience, and even courage, all of which seemingly are in short supply these days.

But I am careful, and my years as an Intelligence Analyst have given me the tools I need to separate truth from fiction, facts from wishful thinking, and what is truly right from what only feels right.  One of the adages from the Intelligence Community is once you know the "What" find out the "Why." Because the "Why" will explain the "What."

When we lived in Northern Virginia, I was taken in by the vast canvas of history that spans the area.  The Colonial Era, Revolutionary War, War of 1812, Civil War, the hard struggle from 13 colonies to a United States were all played out among those beautiful rolling hills.  I stood once on a battlefield at Yorktown, realizing that this piece of real estate had been fought over in three separate wars.

Deeply concerned about the widening divisions in my country, at one point I began to focus in on the Civil War.  What were the real issues that split the country?  Slavery is the easy answer, but I've learned the grim truth that the easy answer is a myth.  Human history is a complex interweaving of events, personalities, agendas, good and evil, and always the unhealthy lust for power and glory.  These kinds of chaotic non-linear influences always muddy the waters.

Gettysburg was a short 80 miles from where we lived, so I made numerous journeys, mostly by motorcycle (I was always looking for a reason to go riding).  In those early visits, I was pretty clueless.  I hadn't looked at the battle with any depth, but clarity arrived after I began reading and studying.  I knew that it was a, perhaps the pivotal battle of the Civil War, that with the Union victory, the South was on the defensive from that point on.  Now, I understood more about the flow of the battle, the tactics that worked, and those that failed.  I was clearer on the complex relationships between the senior commanders and their foibles and blind spots on both sides and how those relationships helped shape the battle's outcome.  

One beautiful autumn day, I climbed to the top of the hill known as Little Round Top and, with my eyes, traced the events as they unfolded across that battlefield during those terrible three days.  More importantly, I now understood not only the what but the why.  Why Confederate General Ewell did not attack the nearly undefended Culp's Hill in the waning hours of that first day.  Why the Union 11th Corps turned and ran like they did at Chancellorsville, allowing the Union troops to be outflanked. How thin the margin of survival was for the 20th Maine on the left end of the Union line on Little Round Top.  And why General Lee willingly sent his troops up Cemetary Hill into a meat grinder of artillery and rifle fire, a fight that cost him 60% of some of the bravest troops ever to carry a weapon into battle.

Gettysburg was a decisive victory that left the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia in tatters.  But it still took two more bloody years before the war ended.

I discovered in this effort that there is a difference between knowing and understanding.

A few years ago, I read an article from the New Yorker magazine written by Katherine Schulz.  It was an amazing piece that brought to light some unnerving facts about what was then a generally unknown or understood tear in the Pacific Ocean floor called the Cascadia Subduction Zone.  It runs some 600 to 700 miles (depending on who you read) underwater from Cape Mendocino, California, to Northern Vancouver Island, British Columbia.  There, some 60 to 70 miles offshore, the Pacific Plate is pushing beneath or subducting under the North America Plate.  For some time, scientists thought it was sliding smoothly (aseismically), a belief based on the complete lack of earthquakes in recorded history.  Then, it was discovered that the coastal mountain ranges are rising and tilting to the east.  New shoreline is being lifted above the surface of the ocean.  These, and many other indicators, showed that the fault was not sliding smoothly but was, in fact, stuck.  As the Pacific Plate continued to try to move eastward, that force was humping and tilting the land above it.  What does that mean?

Cascadia is a type known as a thrust fault.  As the years passed and through data from monster earthquakes off Chile (9.5 in 1960), and Alaska (9.3 in 1964), scientists surmised that these thrust faults, or subduction zones, existed all across that part of the Pacific called the Ring of Fire.  This was clearly evident by the massive quakes off Tohoku, Japan (9.1 in 2011) and the  Sumatra-Andaman quake and tsunami (9.3 in 2004) that would kill close to a quarter-million human beings.  These thrust faults were responsible for not only the largest earthquakes in recorded history but also for the generation of trains of tsunami waves, which devastated huge amounts of land and would kill hundreds of thousands.  

In 1996, a group of scientists from several different disciplines announced that not only was the Cascadia fault active, but it had ruptured in January 1700 along its entire length in an estimated 9.2 magnitude quake.  Tribal lore from the native peoples who populated the northwest coast told of a massive event, in some cases described as a fight between two gods, Thunderbird and Whale, that shook the land and then sent the ocean streaming inland.  Other researchers uncovered meticulous Japanese records that told of an "orphan tsunami" (not accompanied by a local earthquake) that sent a 16-foot wall of water ashore across 650 miles of central and northern  Japan.  That, plus tree ring records, mud cores pulled from the ocean shore, and good detective work, pinned the source at Cascadia.  

I was working for the Hawai'i Emergency Management Agency then, and one of the hazards they plan for is tsunamis. Hawai'i sits in the middle of the Pacific, surrounded on three sides by subduction zones arcing from Tonga through the Marianas, up the coasts of Japan and Russia, across the Aleutian Islands chain, and down the coasts of North America, Central America, and South America. When these faults rupture, it's almost always in the range of Magnitude 8.5 to at least 9.5, unleashing a trans-Pacific train of waves that could devastate the 50th state.  We had access to a system that monitored earthquakes from all over the world.  One disquieting thing I noted was that there was constant movement in all the thrust faults across the entire arc, with earthquakes ranging from the undetectable to the barely noticeable.  But Cascadia was utterly quiet.  Not even a hint of rumble.  Knowing what's going on down below, I found the silence ominous.  I still do. 

 I began to read everything I could about thrust faults and tsunamis.  I found a website that gave me free access to academic research papers.  I dove into those (with a thesaurus close at hand) and, over time, gained a better understanding of the magnitude of the possible threat.

I also understood better that earthquake prediction is, at this time, impossible.  There are some events that follow a comprehensible sequence of events.  A causes B, which results in C.  These are termed Linear.  But what goes on deep beneath the earth's surface is not linear but chaotic.  Scientists know the plates are stuck, and pressure is building, as evidenced by the changing landscapes at the surface.  But deep down, where the sticking point, or asperity, is located, they don't really know the makeup of the two surfaces, the temperature, or the elasticity and frictional coefficient of the rocks that are jammed together.  Without that information, any kind of accurate prediction just isn't possible.  To find out, you'd have to find a way to burrow about 20 miles below the surface of sea and land.  Oh yes, and find someone willing to pay for such an expensive venture.

The point at which the fault ruptures is unknown. As one scientist said, "All I know for sure is that today we're one day closer to that happening than yesterday."  Despite the uncertainty, a lot of good work has been done in those affected areas.  Schools, hospitals, and other critical infrastructure have been moved above the anticipated inundation line.  There are good evacuation routes, and local people know that when the earth stops moving after five to six interminable minutes, they need to get to high ground within about 20 minutes.  At least one community is building what's called a vertical evacuation shelter, firmly planted in the earth, which will allow people to evacuate upwards above the height of the wave.  These and other mitigation efforts will undoubtedly save a lot of lives.  Still, a good many of those quaint shoreline villages are likely to be swept clear by the waves.  Inland, the shaking will affect major metropolitan areas like Sacramento, Portland, Seattle, and Vancouver.  There are a lot of unreinforced masonry structures in all those cities, mostly bricks that will come apart like kicked Legos.  The high rises in those cities were built before all this was known about the monster offshore, so nobody really knows if they can withstand severe shaking of that magnitude.  The quake and tsunami will happen someday, and the resulting devastation may require a recovery time measured in decades.

I've also explored other subjects, such as the chain of events leading to the Chernobyl disaster, what happens inside a hydrogen bomb when it is detonated, the structure of supercell thunderstorms and tornadoes, how a massive star can explode in a supernova, how a galaxy 34 billion light-years distant was discovered even though the visible universe should only be 13.8 billion light years across, and even how DNA and RNA do their thing deep inside our cells.  I'll never understand the nuts and bolts of these things, but I have a general understanding.  And that's good enough for now

When I look at this world and the universe, I feel awe at how big everything is, what we've discovered, and especially what we still have yet to discover.  Perhaps when I've shuffled off this mortal coil, I'll be in a place where I can know and understand it all, and my curiosity will finally be sated.

But then again...maybe not!

A Day of Infamy; A Day of Grace

 

Sunrise, Pearl Harbor

December 7th, 2024

Copyright © 2024

By Ralph F. Couey

Images and written content

The sun rose, spreading its light into the clear sky, a moment of indescribable peace and tranquility. Across the harbor, the water lay almost glassy. It was eerily similar to another morning 83 years earlier, that Day of Infamy; December 7th, 1941.

That day, however, the calm was suddenly broken by the roar of aircraft and the shocking explosions that heralded the beginning of a new war.

This day, however, the peaceful calm remained intact. On the north side of Ford Island the destroyer USS Carl Levin and the submarine USS Hawai'i moved through the water with reverent dignity. The drawbridge connecting the island to Honolulu had been pulled aside, and the two vessels made their way through, passing alongside the grave of a ship that has always been the symbol of that attack. As they came abeam of the USS Arizona Memorial, a whistle sounded across the water and the white-clad sailors manning the rails came to attention. This has always been the tradition. When any Navy ship passes the graceful white memorial, they render honors in respect partly for the old battleship, but just as much for the 1,177 men who remain entombed within the ship.  

At the appointed moment, 7:55 AM, or 07:55 in Navy speak, there was a sudden roar from the south. A formation of four F-22 Raptor fighters from the Hawai'i Air National Guard swept in low. Just as they reached the memorial, one aircraft went vertical, knifing into the brilliantly blue sky accompanied by the roar of afterburners. It was the traditional "missing man formation," the moving salute to the fallen. Across the harbor, at the Arizona Memorial Visitors Center, a 103-year-old Pearl Harbor survivor rose from his wheelchair to render a salute.

Aboard the battleship USS Missouri, just a few hundred yards from Arizona's bow, staff members stood at attention, our throats tight with emotion. We work here every day, but the sense of history and honor that fills this harbor is always present in our hearts. We all clearly understand that the freedoms we cherish are largely due to those who fought and died for them.

This ceremony occurs every year, and it never feels old or routine. It means so much to us because Arizona was where World War II began for America, and Missouri was where it ended 1,365 days later.

Around 0758, the first Japanese bomb fell on Ford Island.   A couple of minutes later, three air-launched torpedoes slammed into USS Oklahoma’s port side. She immediately flooded and began rolling over.  Abandon Ship was ordered before 08:00.  Oklahoma would be struck by two more torpedoes, sealing her fate. Hundreds of men would be trapped inside. 

USS West Virginia, moored outboard of USS Tennessee, was struck by an estimated 7 torpedoes.  She listed 28 degrees, but prompt action by damage control teams corrected the list to 16 degrees.  She settled nearly upright on the harbor bottom.

USS Arizona was hit around 08:10, an armor-piercing bomb penetrated the main deck and exploded in a space where black powder was being temporarily stored outside of the magazines.  The resulting explosion lifted the battleship out of the water and tore her apart, igniting a fire that took two days to extinguish.  Her losses were over half of those from the entire attack, 1,175 men.

USS Nevada was executing morning colors, accompanied by the ship’s band.  The National Anthem was being played when two strafing Japanese planes swept past, firing at the assembled sailors, but only succeeding in tearing the flag.  In a magnificent display of courage, nobody broke ranks, and the band finished the Anthem.  Nevada then went to work, shot down several planes, and was the only battleship that morning to slip her moorings and head for sea.  She was hit by one torpedo, but prompt counterflooding kept her upright.  The sight of this gallant ship steaming along with the tattered flag at her tail was an inspiration to all who witnessed her sortie.  But the Japanese attackers, seeing her moving, dropped a cluster of bombs on her forecastle (the area of the bow forward of the gun turrets) causing severe damage and forcing a decision to beach the ship rather than risk her sinking in the channel.

In less than 30 minutes, the Japanese accomplished their primary mission, the destruction of the Battle Line of the Pacific Fleet.  A lot of other damage was recorded, and 2,390 Americans lost their lives.  Half the combat aircraft stationed on O’ahu were destroyed as well as severe damage to airfields and related facilities.  But there was some good news.

The aircraft carriers, Enterprise, Lexington, and Saratoga were all at sea during the attack.  Their destruction would have severely crippled the United States.  For over a year, they were the sole source of offensive capability.  All the dry docks were intact, which enabled damaged ships to be quickly repaired.  The fuel tanks scattered around the harbor, containing 4.5 million barrels of oil were completely spared.  That loss would have forced all surviving ships back to the West Coast. 

Later historical analysis would show that the reaction of the American sailors, soldiers, and airmen was swift.  Men, mostly young, who had never been in battle took immediate action to get anti-aircraft guns in action, in many cases hacking open ammunition lockers.  Below decks, men struggled to control the damage.  Many formed passing lines to move ammunition from below decks up to the guns.  The stories of heroism and gallantry were numerous.  16 men would receive the Medal of Honor, 10 posthumously. 

It was, as President Roosevelt later described it, a day of infamy.

There is so much to contemplate—not just the death and destruction of that day, but everything that occurred during the war, including the horrifying atrocities committed against the innocent. Worldwide, approximately 69 million people perished, 50 million of whom were civilians. The world was torn apart in unimaginable violence as opposing forces clashed across the globe.

As painful as that was, one blessing emerged. Humanity, capable of such violence, also demonstrated the wisdom to end it. General Douglas MacArthur summed it up best:

"Today the guns are silent. A great tragedy has ended, and a great victory has been won. Death no longer rains from the skies; the seas bear only commerce. Men everywhere walk upright in the sunlight. And the entire world lies quietly at peace."

It is essential for us today to remember December 7^th, 1941.  In a space of minutes, America moved from peace to global war, fought simultaneously in the Pacific and Europe.  But most remarkably, a nation with deep political divisions, immediately linked arms, stood shoulder to shoulder with a heartfelt unity that would propel America through three-and-a half years of war.  We learned a lot that day, and in the days that followed about ourselves and our nation. 

 Hopefully, these are lessons that will never be forgotten.

Veterans Day 2024

 

At the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific

Honolulu, Hawai'i

Copyright © 2024

By Ralph F. Couey

Written content and images

The United States has engaged in many wars over the centuries.  In every case, young men, and now young women willingly left their homes, mines, shops, factories, fields, and schools to take up arms to defend the cause of freedom, and their beloved country.  They fought in many lands, on and below the oceans, and in the skies above it all.  The met dangerous, implacable foes in battle, the violence in which surpassed the ability of countless scribes to adequately express.

They don't speak much of those times.  It may be that the don't wish the hell of their very personal nightmares to be transferred to anyone else.  Or maybe speaking of them brings the horror back.  I once met an old Marine, who had fought with the legendary 1st Marine Division at Guadalcanal and Peleliu.  I have long had a deep interest in the history of the Pacific War, so I was asking him about his experiences.  He responded by saying, "Son, I can't tell you about war.  Unless you've been there, there's no way you could possibly understand.  Thank God you don't."

It takes a special kind of person to endure such an experience.  It is never the scripted false valor seen in cinema, because it's based in fear; that very primal instinct for self-preservation.  In the film "In Harm's Way," John Wayne's character said, "All battles are fought by scared men who'd rather be someplace else."  All warriors feel fear.  They wouldn't be human if they didn't.  But the difference between the courageous and the cowardly is how that fear is handled.  Fear can send some into mindless, paralyzing panic.  Others push past that moment understanding that there is a thing that needs to be done, and they can do that thing.  Perhaps that's what defines courage, the willingness to push fear aside and do what must be done.  As President Kennedy said, "The cost of freedom is high.  But Americans have always paid it."  

Aboard my first ship, the Knox Class Frigate USS Ouellet, in the engine room, it was just another slog through a seemingly endless midwatch.  At one point, a flange connecting two lengths of fuel line failed.  Instantly a high-velocity stream of fuel oil sprayed directly in to the face one of the main electrical switchboards.  Balls of green lightning began shooting throughout the engine room, while the fuel flooded the space.  It seemed certain that a disastrous fire was about to erupt.  One of the sailors on watch, a third class petty officer, all of 19 years old, waded through the flooding oil, past the balls of lightning to the panel.  Working quickly, he not only shut down the panel, but managed to reroute electrical power to another switchboard, ensuring that the rest of the ship could have power.  No hesitation, no apparent concern for his own safety.  Of course, he received a nice medal for his efforts, and I can't remember the last time he had to buy a beer for himself at our ship's reunions.  

Now, we weren't at war, nor were we in battle.  But lives were at stake, as was the survival of the ship.  In the long history of ships at sea, more have died from fire than from almost any other cause.  But think about that for a moment.  19 years old.  People his age were flipping burgers and going to school.  All he did was save a ship and 177 lives.  

Where in the world do you find someone like that?

You can find them in uniform.  Those who have served, and those who still serve, who have put love of country before all other considerations.  We have never had as many combat veterans among us since the violent days of Vietnam, Korea, and World War II.  They will never speak of valor or heroism.  They may just mumble something like, "Just doin' my job."  They will never claim that mantle because for them, the title of hero will always belong to those who once filled the now-empty spaces in the ranks.

We live in perilous times.  We live in a dangerous world.  The drumbeats of war, once distant and indistinct are beating loudly once again.  We hear them in the west from China and North Korea.  they are sounding in the east from Russia and Iran.  They are sounding in seemingly every direction from terror groups throughout the world.  War has not yet been declared, but our soldiers, sailors, marines, guardsman, and airmen are being sent places where they are being shot at.  A disturbing number of their national leaders, safely ensconced in Washington remain blissfully ignorant of what these servicemembers are enduring so far from home.  Those safely insulated politicians know that it's always easier to send someone else to die.

To this renewed danger, there are fewer to send.  All of our uniformed services are seriously short-handed, an annoyance in peacetime, but a critical weakness in battle.  For really the first time, young people are not stepping up to serve.  They have failed to learn that the freedom they enjoy comes at a cost, one usually paid in someone else's blood, and in the deeper unseen wounds inflicted on a warrior's soul.  

They are serving every day.  The proof of their accomplishments lies in the quiet uninterrupted sleep the rest of us receive, that we can awaken safe and unafraid and live our lives in peace.

The freedoms we possess, the dreams we desire have been and will always be completely dependent on the willingness of those who choose to serve, protect, and defend the United States of America.  They will always willingly and without hesitation stand that watch.

Today, we honor them all.