Memorial Day is an especially tender day for my family. My grandfather, Second Lieutenant Irving Wesley Hunt, was killed in North Africa fighting in World War II about two months before my mother was born. I think one of the reasons I love this picture is that it shows my grandparents frozen in time with what seems like a lifetime ahead of them. They weren't afforded the luxury of that lifetime together, but I know that my grandfather died doing far nobler of a thing than most of us could ever dare to accomplish. He sacrified his life, not only in the defense of his country, but fighting a far greater battle against hatred, evil, and horrible discrimation. My grandmother never remarried, did a wonderful job raising my mom as a single parent, and got to see all four of her grandchildren grow up. I can only imagine what it would've been like had she been able to share it with him, but I do know that it must have been some reunion when she got to heaven 65 years later.
My mom has a sideboard in our house decorated with this picture, among others, the American flag that was presented to my grandmother, and his Purple Heart. Above it hangs the certificate that accompanied his Purple Heart and a tribute letter from President Roosevelt. It would serve us all well to remember the text of the letter, and give thanks each and every day for everyone who 'more than self their country loved and mercy more than life.'
He stands in the unbroken line of patriots who have dared to die that freedom might live, and grow, and increase its blessings. Freedom lives and through it, he lives - in a way that humbles the undertakings of most men.
