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Musing My Patriotism

As I was driving home from work today, bumper-to-bumper traffic making that drive a bit longer, my mind started to wonder.  It started when I saw a bumper sticker on the truck in front of me - a simple one.  "Proud to be American."  I would say to anyone today that I’ve always been proud to be American and extremely patriotic.  But today I just had to think back at some of the milestones in my life that paved my trip here.

The first memory I have of patriotism was in Mr. Dvorak’s second grade class.  This boy kept getting into trouble because he would remain seated and refuse to say The Pledge of Allegiance with the class.  He told Mr. Dvorak that his mom told him he couldn’t participate because he was a Jehovah’s Witness.  At this point, Mr. Dvorak promptly sent him to the principal, thinking it was merely an excuse.  Mr. Dvorak got to keep his job (although he would have promptly been fired today, I’m sure) and we watched this kid sit on the floor during the Pledge of Allegiance every day for the rest of the school year.

I also remember very vividly my dad telling me about life in the military.  He told me a story of fate, about not being able to go on a communications interception mission he was assigned to do (the reasons escape me now) and how the entire team was killed in action within the first 48 hours.  I remember being so proud of my dad and how lucky I was to be born because of fate, not because he was afraid to fight for his country.

I remember when Ronald Reagan got shot.  I was in the library at school when it happened and some of the teachers running in with a look of horror on their faces.  I remember watching the TV the whole library period and I especially remember the teacher yelling at some students who were making fun of the President’s situation.  I was mad, too, and was happy that someone shut them up.

I remember being asked to sing the National Anthem at a basketball game in high school.  I think back to how nervous I was (it was just me - no piano, no music), and clearly remember choking up toward the end.  I was slightly off key for one or two notes, trying not to cry.  A couple of kids made fun of me.  I didn’t tell them why I missed those notes because it was something 16 year olds didn’t really brag about.  Except to one of my mentors - my music teacher.  He listened and said he was proud of me, but looked very sad.  He said something my father said before.  He said that kids in my generation didn’t know anything about war.  That it almost seemed that they needed a war in order to understand what being an American is all about.  A very prophetic discussion, I would say, and one I’m sure my son or daughter will never have with a school teacher.

I was so excited when I was old enough to register to vote.  I did so within days of turning 18.  I was a senior in high school.  I could share my excitement with my "geek friends" (yeah, we all had our noses buried in books), and they were jealous that I could vote and they couldn’t.  I also clearly remember that I registered as an Independent (gak!).  As I look back, my parents - who were registered Democrats - probably kept me from taking the full step over to the Republican party.  It didn’t take me long, though, once I moved out. 

I remember Desert Shield….then Desert Storm.  I remember the Heartland Heroes celebration that commenced when our troops came home.  It was at Rosenblatt Stadium and it was filled to capacity.  I remember being there with the company I worked for.  I also remember being incredibly intoxicated, but weeping openly while they played all the patriotic music.  I saw a lot of patriots that day.  But many were fair-weather patriots.  People that you would see a week later who were blasting the war, the troops, and pretty much anything else they could bitch about.  I was pissed.  Especially at my parents for their opinions on the war.  But they were Democrats and I wasn’t.

I remember that bitch Rosanne Barr butchering the National Anthem before a Padres game.  I was furious, absolutely furious.  Some people thought I overreacted.  I thought they under-reacted.  That woman should have been sent out of the country in my opinion.  Let her butcher France’s anthem.

I remember the day President Clinton was elected - not one of my better days.  I was listening to the radio broadcast initial results of the election as I was driving my car home from a repair shop in my hometown.  As I was hearing the news that Clinton was in the lead, I was almost hit head-on by a Greyhound bus (it was in the wrong lane).  When I slammed on my brakes, my ex-husband plowed into my rear-end.  Luckily I was okay, but knew the next four years were going to be hell.  And the bus driver fled the scene.

During the dark years, there was a bright spot. I met my husband, Eric, who introduced me to Rush Limbaugh and all that is Republican.  I had finally found my soul mate, someone with similar values and beliefs, and all around perfect husband.  We bought our first home and started a family.  My son was first - born in 1997.  Our daughter, Emily was born on May Day, 2001.  A year we will never forget.

I clearly remember the Bush election in late 2000, and remember that having him step into office was the best thing that could have happened.  I remember all the hoopla about the pregnant chads, the "rigged" election.  I also shudder as I reminisce thinking about where we would be as a country if Al Gore had been elected.  I truly believe there was a greater power involved in all of that.  A power that guided the right decisions to be made so America would be protected by a strong leader in her darkest hour.

September 11, 2001.  I worked nights at the time, at a fledgling Internet company.  That day was like many others.  My daughter, my infant daughter, woke me up around 9am or so, hungry for her bottle.  I took my time with her, changing her and cuddling her and preparing her formula.  As I sat down to watch Fox news, I was stunned.  They were reporting explosions at the World Trade Center.  For a few moments, I didn’t know they were planes - there was speculation that they were bombs.  The truth started to unfold that day - a day full of channel flipping and of disbelief.  My husband rushed into the house for his break.  He says he’ll never forget the look of horror on my face.  I’ll never forget the horror I felt in my heart.  I looked down at my daughter and wept.  Will she be safe?  What’s going to happen next?  I thought of the bravery of those passengers who made the decision "Let’s roll" and averted more tragedy.  They are heroes.

I knew I had to go to work that night, but I really didn’t want to and didn’t know why I should, but I went.  And I’m glad I did.  One of my team members had a cousin missing in the Pentagon.  She came to work just to keep busy.  Why the hell shouldn’t I be there to support her, I thought.  I’ll never forget the shriek I heard from her when she got the call from her aunt saying they found her cousin alive and that while she was hurt she was going to be okay.  The entire center applauded and there were many tears.  I sent her home when she got that call because she couldn’t stop crying - for joy.  There were many prayers that day - and no one was offended.  The TV was set up in the conference rooms and the break room so people could keep up on the news.  I remember the late nights I kept as I watched the news unfolding.  I thought about the trip that took me to NYC on business a few years prior to the fall of the WTC.  And feeling blessed that I could share that experience with people who would never get to feel those glorious buildings sway in the wind.  And feeling pissed that there were people who hated us so much just because we were Americans.

I remember when we started punishing the terrorist assholes in Afghanistan.  We were at war and I remember watching the team at Fox News during my waking hours both day and night.  I lost a lot of sleep watching "Mean, Green" Steve Harrigan telling us about the war.  I was shocked and awed, and thrilled to see freedom come to those who never knew what it was.

An event then occurred that will be etched in my mind forever.  On a van ride down to my parent’s house, my son asked me "Mommy, who is Osama Bin Laden?"  I was silent for awhile, and even a bit concerned about how best to answer that for a little guy not yet in kindergarten.  I told him that Osama Bin Laden was a very bad man who sent people to crash planes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.  Come to find out, our bright young reader had been reading the scrolling news bar at the bottom of the news screen and was now afraid that Osama Bin Laden was going to come and hurt us or send missiles to kill us.  I gave Bradley a brief lesson on Bush and the military and he was confident that we were going to "kick Osama’s butt."  A young Republican was born that day, bringing his sister with him. 

Emilybradleypatriots

Then the war in Iraq started and I, again, was up late at night watching the action and the updates.  I was very proud of our country and the military men and women who fought so bravely for our freedom and to defeat the terrorists who sought to destroy Americans because of who we were and what we represented to them.  I was never happier to see Saddam Hussein captured.  What a scab on the ass of the world.  To see his statues fall was bliss and one could almost hear the chains of oppression fall to the ground. 

Those fair-weather patriots started rearing their ugly heads again, questioning the war on terror, putting down troops and complaining about everything from gas prices to WMD.  And the moonbats were aplenty.  I was thrilled to see President Bush re-elected.  He was in Iowa and my husband and I made the "pilgrimage" to go see him speak.  What an inspirational leader Bush is.  It absolutely reaffirmed my belief in my party and in my country.  Why people can’t see the good in him befuddles me.  I hope every pansy-assed Hollywood idiot who made the statement "If Bush is (re)elected, I’m leaving the country" DOES.  Get the hell out…we don’t want you and we definitely don’t need you.  While you’re there, say hi to that beeotch Gwenyth, will you?

So as I look back to my journey as an American, I can clearly see where my patriotism was born and nurtured.  I hope that my children will always have the freedoms we have now and that they will hold their patriotism in their hearts as Eric and I do.  I still get choked up when I hear the National Anthem, and also get choked up hearing my boy say the Pledge of Allegiance.  Being an American is a gift - one to be cherished, and I will do so until my dying day.

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7 Comments
Beth said:

MERRI! Absolutely sublime, my friend!



Raven said:

hey Merri. I want to go kill some terrorists with yah. Let's roll.
Good soul baring.



Cao said:

Beautiful,Merri...just wow.



Kender said:

Phenomenal. You are awesome Merri.......simply awesome.



Ogre said:

I've got two 30-round clips loaded and ready to go!



Nicely Done

Da wife waves the flag furiously.



Merri, you're a Great American. Your raw 9/11 memories brought back similar thoughts for me and I'm sure for us all.

Several things became crystal clear and crisp in the wake of 9/11: the fact that people throughout the world hate Americans, hate freedom, and hate God. Worse: That many such people actually live in the USA, in fact were born here, in fact teach in our schools and universities, in fact have been elected to political office and appointed to the judiciary.

Well, I'd done 'patriotism' before 9/11, but in a lazy way. Thank you for sharing your patriotic path and reminding me yet again (even if painfully) of what this is all about, and then some.