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Friday, November 11, 2016

Veteran's day

Our family farm since WW2
I've sprung in part from the union of two heroic soldiers. My grandfather wore a uniform, while my granny Z did her underground work in civilian garb. It's come to this. Home Farm was once the homestead for refugees of war,  a literal "new beginning" for a pair of young lover-fighters, my grandmother and grandfather, each idealistic and rebellious. After the war they faced the McCarthy era persecutions in their adopted country and my grandmother moved back to Europe. Later, the farm became the home of my step-grandmother, on her strange way down from rooted German aristocracy. Built on sacrifices and hard work, it's been my home farm.
love the flag
It's come to this. I'm terribly sad today that my grandpa, grandmothers and all the family members of Michael's who lived and fought in the last World War are all dead. Their stories live on, but the voices are gone. I fear that the silence of our war veterans will clear room for us to repeat big mistakes. Once again. Lessons (stories) today hail us to never forget that we have sprung from heroic Veterans.
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