And hearing the news that my childhood friend Stephen was killed by cowardly jihadi scum while he slept in his barracks in Beirut, Lebanon. We grew up together in the little town of Ellington. Went to school together and played baseball together. His Dad was our baseball coach. He was a man's man... and a real tough coach. There was a reason we won ball games. But IMHO, Stephen's death broke him.
It would have been bad enough had he been killed honorably on the field of battle, but this.... this cut deep and hard. Killed by a truck bomb while they slept. My wife was away for a funeral and I cried myself to sleep alone the night I had heard the news. 42 years removed and I am tearing up just typing this.
I was in the Army Reserves at the time, but did not wear my uniform to his funeral service. I wanted to be there as everyone else was; as a school mate, fellow athlete, and friend. We all stood and cried together at the cemetery for Stephen.
I wear this memorial patch for him on my biker vest.
Now you know the source of my deep hatred of those rag-headed goat fuckers and want them either expelled from My Country or dead.
Preferably dead.
EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.
Grave yard dead, as Jerry Clower would say.
ReplyDeleteSorry for your loss my friend
Perhaps it is time for mending fences.
ReplyDeleteFill the gaps the same way Vlad Dracu set the example.
@Anonymous: I am a big Vlad The Impaler fan, and of lining the roads to his kingdom with the impaled bodies of his enemies. It sends a pretty clear message.
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