Since the beginning of time when men first walked on the earth till now, humans have all shared a common sense of community, family bond, tradition, having each other’s back, loving those close to you, standing up for your beliefs, and going into war if needed to protect your home, family and country. “Patriotism” is something that was bred into us from TV shows, radio, movies, books, magazines, and even commercials playing on the TV during breakfast in your home telling you to join the military and defend your country or be a patriot. From elementary school through high school, barbecues and even at sporting events the flag would be present and we would stand and place our hand over our hearts and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. We listen to the national anthem as we look at our flags brilliant colors waving in the wind remembering and understanding what has happened in our short existence as Americans to ensure our freedom. Then the time finally comes as we graduate from high school and we choose the next step and direction in our lives. My twin brother and I both chose the Marine Corps. why not? The Marines are bad a##. My grandfather did it and I saw no greater challenge than to do it myself. I either could…or couldn’t. I either was or was not the metal. I learned a lot in the Marines. I learned that “heart” prevails over all. You can be strong and you can have endurance but if you have ”heart”, you will be amazed at what you can accomplish. So when I joined the military, I did my time. I served with my brothers and enjoyed the hell out of their company. Each one of them were unique. Many of us almost died. Some of us did. To this day it is definitely hard to deal with. When I say their names out loud, it makes me cry so I try not to. The feeling doesn’t dim. It doesn’t go away. Then when you come home, all of a sudden you are around civilians and start hearing people call you names like monster or baby killer. You hear comments like “ F*** you for your service, you should have died over there, I wish you would have been blown up. I sit here and think about some good ol’ boys that went with us that didn’t come home. Some of them were newlywed’s. Some were fathers. Some were just super funny good ol’ boy’s. They were the best that the U.S. had to offer and they didn’t all come back home. That weighs on my mind every day and I still remain patriotic. When people say that we should have died over there, that really sucks to hear. Then I get invited to a website here where people like my dad that is not only a father figure but also a Patriot, a biker, a woodworker, an active member in the motorcycle community created a place where veterans can come together whether in the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force or multiple branches and tell stories or talk about illness, suicide, or any other issues we are facing without getting laughed at, ridiculed, or made fun of. Instead we hear “thank you for your service “. Every time I hear it I feel like I am not worthy of the thanks. I am sure that everyone of my brothers and sisters in arms feel the same way. We usually say we barely did sh#t. That’s what we say. We don’t feel worthy of your thanks when some of our brothers and sisters died while serving. I think all of us veterans need a place like this to remember and keep our fallen brothers and sisters alive in spirit. It’s groups like these that make us feel welcome and part of a community. To my father I say “thank you for the work you are doing to help veterans”. And to all of my brothers and sisters, I look forward to connecting with you here and I thank all of you for your service. Semper Fi.