This is a piece I put together to honor not only all the men and women who have served and still serve today and their families but especially of the men who have served in my family. In order:
Retired Chief/First Sergent of 27 years My father Larry Scanlon
Active Duty Tsgt Chris Peasron of 16 years My Husband Chris Pearson
Honorably Discharged Sra Jay Scanlon of 6 years My Brother Jay Scanlon
All of The United States Air Force!
Below is a poem a 16 year old girl wrote for Veteran's that has been published. Its very fitting and I felt should be read. The story tells itself. No need for me to ruin it! So Thank you again to ALL OUR SERVICE MEN AND WOMEN AND THEIR FAMILIES.... FROM OUR HOUSE TO YOURS, FROM OUR BORDERS TO THE BORDERS YOU ARE PROTECTING RIGHT NOW, WE THANK YOU, HONORABLY AND WITH DEEP GRATITUDE.
When I See an Eagle
Marie Frankson
When I see an eagle, I see a great nation
which has been founded on the principles of
equality and freedom for all.
When I see an eagle, I see our flag flying high.
I see happy children playing and smiling and laughing and singing.
When I see an eagle, I see a melting pot of blacks and Hispanics, Italians and Indians, Native American and Irish which make up our country.
When I see an eagle, I see no more bondage,
no more terrorism, ethnocentrism, racism, and hate.
When I see an eagle, I see our troops fighting for what is right, fighting to keep us free.
When I see an eagle, I see America standing tall and strong and proud behind her servicemen and women.
When I see an eagle, I salute and say a silent prayer of thanks for the troops who protect us.
From the author: I am Marie Frankson and am 16. I wrote this poem to show that we should stand behind our troops and stop with the "Don't support the troops" stuff. This poem was sent overseas and is hanging up in every office of the different military branches. It was also published in a book for a contest. It was one of the winners of the contest. A soldier, killed by a car bomb in Iraq one week after being deployed there, was buried with the poem in his pocket.
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