(Independence Day, almost upon us once more, is a good time to revisit old and true ideas. Case in point is this letter from a year or two back.) Kari and Darcie-- Henry Jordan Morton said that when his turn came to go ashore at Normandy during World War Two, the hardest part was wading through all the bodies of those American soldiers killed in earlier landings. Kari and Darcie remember Henry Jordan Morton as their grandfather. I was named after his brother, Joe, who fought against the Germans in North Africa, as I recall. Henry’s brother-in-law (Big Grandma’s brother), Carl Harleen, whose last name is my middle, was a naval photographer, stationed on the light cruiser, Honolulu, which was torpedoed. Beyond the fact that they were all family from Batavia, Illinois, that they were all in their 20s and that they all had signed up for very hazardous duty, they shared a single motive. They would fight to keep their democratic country free from the fascism that had taken hold in Germany and Italy and from the expansionism of Japan. They would risk everything for that. As you know, of course, democracy is a very difficult, often aggravating form of government, requiring the constant attention of a well-educated public. Winston Churchill called democracy “...the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.” One thing that makes democracy so difficult yet so appealing is the vote. We all get a say. Legally. That’s the appealing part. Those who would take away our right to vote are indeed--especially when you consider all the blood shed and lives sacrificed--attacking a sacred promise. So, you have to wonder about those who, for one reason or another, chose to throw away that right without even a fight. Henry Morton would weep at such a thought. He and I were usually at odds politically: he conservative, I liberal. We argued heatedly and at length. But, both of us ascribed to the Voltaire idea: “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” He, as you know, survived the invasion at Normandy and after that the Battle of the Bulge, and some other things to become, in the end, your grandfather. Uncle Joe survived North Africa, though I think he was wounded. Carl Harleen survived the torpedoing of his cruiser and many dangerous reconnaissance missions flown off the fantail in an open-cockpit pontoon plane. I don’t know about the Terjesons and Leightys of that generation; I’ll look into it. Or, maybe you should. Of the wars we have direct knowledge of, WW2 was the one fought most singularly to preserve our freedom. Since then there has been Korea, Vietnam, Afganistan, Iraq, for the most part. Several of our family and close friends have served militarily; we need to thank them. Thank Rick Terjeson, a Navy officer; Robbie Morton, Navy; Robbie’s sons, John and Jake, Army; Doug Austin, a Marine officer (Vietnam), his son, Mitch, Marines. Hope I didn’t miss anyone. Jim Morton (uncle Jim) and I both failed our physicals during the Vietnam conflict. Disappointing, at the time--probably, for obvious reasons, for the best in the long run. I thank those who served. But, having served does not mean you are automatically right, politically. Henry Morton told me once that being a soldier was easy because the ordinary soldier didn’t have to make many decisions; he just had to obey his superiors--follow orders. Henry Morton--soldier, advertising executive, community leader, scholar, husband, father, grandfather--never blindly followed an order in his lifetime. — Dad — 6/16/2018
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AuthorPrize-winning journalist and teacher of English, history and philosophy who now lives on Harstine Island, Washington, with his wife, Dee. Father of two daughters and five grandchildren, all smart and beautiful beyond description, of course. Books
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