Text of speech delivered by Cal Parsons
Honorable Mayor, Council members, fellow Veterans, first responders, community members and honored guests. I come here today to honor and acknowledge our Veterans, living and dead.
Veterans Day is different from Memorial Day as it commemorates all veterans throughout our country’s history. Memorial Day on the other hand is a day of somber reflection remembering those who were killed in action. As far as I know, only two of our community members were killed in action, both in Vietnam, David Allen and Tim Badostine.
Today we pay tribute to only a small percentage of what Americans can claim those who have earned the title of American Veteran. Today is a day to acknowledge all the men and women who served our country. We honor these men and women by acknowledging them, and to be grateful. They all gave part of their life serving our country. They all signed a contract and made an oath to defend our Country against all enemies, paid in full, in advance, up to, and sometimes including their life.
To all our veterans past and present, thank you, our community and country honors you. We will never forget what you have done for us.
Today I especially wish to acknowledge and honor our local Veterans. Interesting to note that we have (104) veterans buried in our cemetery.
I want to acknowledge and thank Cookie Sampson for giving me an article listing the names of local veterans in the Sept 25, 1985 edition of the Islander. I also want to recognize Tony Cervantes for complementing this list with the current VFW roster. I need to mention that both of these certainly do not include every veteran living in our community, past and present. (Names were read aloud from these lists in the speech given on Veteran’s Day).
We must never forget the strength and resolve of the American Warrior, never wavering, never yielding, locked on and focused like a bulldog fighting for our freedom and values generation after generation, to provide us with the freedom we enjoy today. All fellow Veterans in the audience please raise your hand to be recognized. Ladies and gentlemen, these men and women are the underpinning foundation of our country. They answered the call to duty, many directly in harm’s way. With deepest gratitude, we thank you.
Our Vietnam Veterans served with great honor. They came home for the most part treated not with gratitude or support, but with condemnation, ridicule and neglect. To them, and to all who have served in every battle, every war we say it’s not too late to say thank you. We honor your service. We are forever grateful.
Our veterans stood watch ensuring our freedom remains as it is today. Stood watch throughout all our wars and conflicts. Stood watch and did their duty as their individual jobs dictated and demanded. Stood watch and engaged when necessary. And they are standing watch today. Woven into the fabric of our country are those who served while wearing the cloth of our nation.
No one knows the cost of war more than Ginny Allen who lost her son in Vietnam. Or my combat vet buddy Earl Clark, humble, unassuming, every day puts on a plastic leg, and for all the years I have known him, I have yet to hear a bad word from his mouth. Or my platoon sergeant Jay Kellogg, Medal of Honor recipient, a consummate Marine. Or our late Uncle Rich. In combat, there are no unwounded soldiers.
Every Veteran has a story of how they joined the service. I’d like to share mine: I graduated from Avalon High in 1968 with 42 robust classmates. The darkness of the Vienam war was raging at the time. Most, but not all the men joined a branch of the service as their fathers did, I was no exception. I was troubled by the posture of all those fleeing to Canada, which I viewed as cowardly. And I thought of all those men I looked up to as a child and through school growing up. Men like Chepe, Kiko, Pancho, Vernon, Pastor, Tane, Louie, Martine, Carl Koehler, Tomcat. All solid family men, all respected community members, allI served their country. There was really no question of whether or not I would serve, the only question was which branch.
With a troubled mind, I hiked with my dog Spike to Silver beach with a clunky Big 5 sleeping bag, a pack containing a cast iron skillet, hammer, nails, a worn out handsaw, potatoes, beans and a fishing pole. I scrambled that first night to build a shelter out of driftwood, racing against the clock due to a pending storm, finishing the roof lined with plastic trash bags just in time before half dollar sized raindrops pelted the shelter most of the night. In the morning, Spike and I were dry, he was curled up and asleep at my feet. I decided to stay in Silver until I had clarity and peace of mind….not knowing on the front end how long that would be.
Those 5 days camping alone went slow at night, and quicker in daylight hours. I pondered all the times me and my friends had camped there over the years, hunting goats and pigs, setting battered lobster traps we found on the beach and refurbished enough to catch dinner. We watched the tide come and go, explored the mountainous piles of driftwood, flotsam and jetsam cast up at the high tide zone, explored the hills and canyons, pondered the universe after a fair share of red mountain wine, and just hung out enjoying each others company and talked story, added driftwood to the campfire and watched the embers as it must have been throughout the history of humanity in ancient times. My mind was incessantly and constantly processing, constantly thinking, day by day by day as the waves pounded the shore in the background, the daily cycle of night and day, the fresh water stream continually flowing to the sea over the polished stones and boulders, the birds singing, the goats in their daily routine of walking the steep hillside, the stars rising, the moon tracking across the sky, the morning sun breaking the darkness of night. The endless ebb and flow of the eternal pulse of all that is …one heartbeat at a time….one breath at a time…I came to the realization that I was part of it all.
On the 5th day I had clarity. I saddled up, and walked slowly out of Silver canyon with my dog. I took my time and looked at the overwhelmingly steep canyon walls studded with cactus to the left of me, and the more lush but just as steep canyon walls to the right. I watched my footsteps navigating stones and boulders, my troubled mind finally at peace.. I knew I might never see this place again. Following what my heart was telling me, I decided to join the Marine Corps, quite honestly, to see if I had the mettle to become one, and to serve my country. “Serve first” was my mantra. If I die, so be it, I will die like a warrior if possible. If I don’t, so be that. A few weeks later I joined the Marine Corps in Newark, New Jersey. Then rest are details.
I wake every morning with gratitude. Grateful to be alive. Grateful for my freedom. Freedom to speak in favor of what I feel as right. Freedom to speak out against what I believe is wrong. Grateful for a few friends, a loving family, a remarkable community, and a country like no other. And when I’m dead, I will be buried in our cemetery with military honors next to my friend David, and all those the men and community members I love and respect. I’m good with that.
May we think of freedom, not as a right to do as we please, but as an opportunity to do what is right. The greatest thing you can say to a veteran, and say it with conviction from your heart, is Thank You for your service to our country.
