A salute to Jordan Moehnle
Two days from now, I will have the privelege of watching a boy become a Man.
In 1993, there was this scrawny little kid across the street from us when we moved in. He was about 8, the same age my son is now. He was fairly quiet for a boy, I never noticed him coming home bloody from a bicycle crash, or with a black eye. He didn't seem like a rough-and-tumble, ball of spit-and vinegar that many boys are at that age. I even think his Mom didn't allow toy guns in the house.
As the years went by, his hair went from long to short and back again like that Barbie Doll with the ring on her back. He started wearing glasses for his eyesight. In a lot of ways he seemed aimless, or at least he didn't vocalize what his desires were...or were not. I knew he liked the usual suspects in terms of music and other pop culture and that he liked to go shooting with the men up in the canyon. Jordan enjoyed shooting the AR the best, and he was good at it. Although I am much older than Jordan, he always put up with his Dad and me constantly ribbing him with a good-natured laugh, followed by the illegal and excessive consumption of brewed beverages.
Along came 9/11.
Jordan was now about 14. He saw his country attacked in an event that made the Pearl Harbor sneak attack seem almost honorable, and it must have affected him deeply, because in four years, Jordan was in a Marine Corps recruiting office, volunteering for duty in a time of war. 48 hours from the time I'm writing this, Jordan will be a United States Marine, a trained infantry rifleman prepared to do his duty for God and Country.
I asked Jordan in December what his reasons were for joining the Corps. His response was clear: " I live in a pretty good country, and it's time I did my part"
Not bad for an 18 year old. Not bad at all.
I wish him God's protection and thank Jordan for his future service to his country.
I envy his decision to test himself, and to 'do his part'.
Welcome to the brotherhood of Men, Mr. Jordan Moehnle.
In 1993, there was this scrawny little kid across the street from us when we moved in. He was about 8, the same age my son is now. He was fairly quiet for a boy, I never noticed him coming home bloody from a bicycle crash, or with a black eye. He didn't seem like a rough-and-tumble, ball of spit-and vinegar that many boys are at that age. I even think his Mom didn't allow toy guns in the house.
As the years went by, his hair went from long to short and back again like that Barbie Doll with the ring on her back. He started wearing glasses for his eyesight. In a lot of ways he seemed aimless, or at least he didn't vocalize what his desires were...or were not. I knew he liked the usual suspects in terms of music and other pop culture and that he liked to go shooting with the men up in the canyon. Jordan enjoyed shooting the AR the best, and he was good at it. Although I am much older than Jordan, he always put up with his Dad and me constantly ribbing him with a good-natured laugh, followed by the illegal and excessive consumption of brewed beverages.
Along came 9/11.
Jordan was now about 14. He saw his country attacked in an event that made the Pearl Harbor sneak attack seem almost honorable, and it must have affected him deeply, because in four years, Jordan was in a Marine Corps recruiting office, volunteering for duty in a time of war. 48 hours from the time I'm writing this, Jordan will be a United States Marine, a trained infantry rifleman prepared to do his duty for God and Country.
I asked Jordan in December what his reasons were for joining the Corps. His response was clear: " I live in a pretty good country, and it's time I did my part"
Not bad for an 18 year old. Not bad at all.
I wish him God's protection and thank Jordan for his future service to his country.
I envy his decision to test himself, and to 'do his part'.
Welcome to the brotherhood of Men, Mr. Jordan Moehnle.
posted by Marc at
2:24 PM
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