Two friends and I were among a couple of thousand people to turn out yesterday morning for Richmond's first-ever thank-you parade for post-9/11 veterans.
What a glorious morning it was along the Boulevard in Richmond, from Kensington Avenue to the Carillon (itself a memorial to the dead of World War I) in Byrd Park. The weather was perfect. Flags waved everywhere. The marching units were crisply in step (except when parade-goers walked right up to them to shake their hands), and the marching-band music was really -- really! -- good.
When I got back from the Air Force in Europe right before Christmas in 1969, there wasn't much of a welcome back here in the States, and certainly there was no parade. Many Americans were beginning to be fed up with the war in Vietnam, and they were in no mood to celebrate veterans and their service. The welcome I got was from my family and friends, and, for me at the time, that was enough. I was just glad to be home.
But I must admit that yesterday, as we stood in the bright sunshine to enjoy the half-hour parade, wave to the veterans and shout out "thank you," I was proud of Richmond.
And grateful.
About 10 feet from me was a man of about my age, standing alone, wearing a cap that noted his service in Vietnam. He stood straight and tall as he nobly saluted every post-9/11 veteran who passed by.
And they returned his salute.
That's the memory, of a salute of pride and gratitude, that will stick in my mind for a very long time.
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