In January of 1970, I was discharged from the Army and returned to Old Dominion University to finish up my first degree.  With my short hair and rippling muscles (yes, long ago!), I walked into the Student Center for the first time.  On the left side was a long table with 7-8 students sitting around it, when one tall, lanky student with dirty long hair and ratty jeans pointed at me and said “Look, a baby-killer!”  The students at his table laughed and turned away from me.  Being tightly-disciplined, I ignored his comment and let him live.  But, I still remember him, even after 45 years, especially on Veteran’s Day.

I have no idea whatever happened to him.  Even after letting my hair grow and becoming a lazy college student myself, I rarely returned to the Student Center before I graduated.  But, if the Good Lord would let me pistol-whip one person on this planet, I would have to track down that hippie-punk.  Perhaps, I could then let bygones be bygones and put it behind me.

Until then, I will just remember those veterans I was honored to serve with . . .