Legacy Matters

He lived the life he sought

I am so grateful for our soldiers who put their lives on the line everyday and who are doing remarkable, if often unreported, good works.  Only the Aussie  Arthur Chrenkoff takes the time to report the Good News from Iraq and Afghanistan on a weekly basis, by taking time to read the reports of what's going on with the society,  economy, reconstruction, humanitarian aid, and security. 

Thankfully, those reports are republished for a wider audience by  Winds of Change and OpinionJournal (free, but registration required).  Chrenkoff's good news reports  are essential reading for those who want to know more about what's happening than the number of people killed by the latest car bomb.

I read a number of military bloggers, like BlackFive, the Mudville Gazette and the stories they report.  I am continually struck by the intelligence and the character of our American soldiers, who, from my vantage point in the blogosphere, seem far more mature than their classmates here at home.  At first, I attributed this to the fact that dealing with the very real possibility of dying forces you to grow up pretty damn fast.  Of course that's true, but I wonder if the possibility of doing good, of fighting evil isn't just as compelling.  Or is it that those who see their true wealth in the character they build are more attracted these days to the military than to banking.

Sgt Michael Carlson of St. Paul, Minn, was killed on January 24, 2005 when his Bradley fighting vehicle overturned in Mohammed Sacran Irag.  He was 22.  Written as a senior in high school,  his "credo paper"  was featured yesterday in the Wall St Journal, entitled One American Soldier.  A fallen hero, he was buried at Arlington National Cemetery, leaving behind a grateful nation and a Great Legacy.

I'm saddened by his death and the great loss to his family.    Still, I'm  grateful that Michael Carlson wrote his credo down.  I've no doubt that this will be one of his family's greatest treasures, read and passed on with reverence for generations to come.  Here are a few excerpts.

I admire my Father more than any other person on this planet, not for being a mechanic, not for being a tough guy. I admire my father for his ambition. For 30 years he has gone to work everyday, for 30 years he has come home, gone to the garage and worked 10 more hours. I don't know how he does it but I do know why. He does it for us. He wants my brother and me to have everything we need and most of what we want. Lots of people say that the best way to learn is by the example of others. Well, then I have one of the best teachers there is on how to be a man, how to treat others, and the work ethic. I mean he is not perfect by any means but is anyone really perfect! I think that he is pretty close.

Sometimes I wonder if my dad ever thought of college. I wonder if he's happy. I sometimes even feel sorry for him. What I mean by that is that I look at him and see a guy that has spent his entire life working. That is what he does. He works. If my mom never brought up the idea of a vacation he would never think twice. He would work to the day he died. I love hard work, but how do you go to the same dead end job everyday knowing that you will be doing it forever.

Every now and then someone that had my dad fix their car will stop by and need something, and every time I talk to them they start talking about my dad's work. They compliment him on paint jobs he did 20 years ago that still look like they are brand new. That reminds me of another trait I have taken from my dad besides my hard work ethic. "If you are going to do a job, do it right the first time, because a job not done well is a job not worth doing," so the saying goes. I take that personally. If someone has an honest complaint about my workmanship, I will bend over backwards to make it right. If people are going to pay you good money to do something then you had better do a darn good job. That is why I usually work alone, then, if there is a problem I know whom I can blame.

My dad hasn't taught me everything though, a lot of it I have learned on my own too. I still got a lot to learn still, but I have figured out things like how to deal with people you don't like or those that don't like you. I also learned why when cutting a frozen bagel you cut away from yourself, I got the scar to prove it. My dad calls this type of learning "the school of hard knocks." Some of the knocks are harder than others.

I love sports. I love football, wrestling, weight lifting, skiing and hockey. I love the thrill of competition, the roar of the crowds, the agony on the faces of your opponents as the final seconds tick off the clock. However, I don't want to do it as a profession. I think it would be fun for a while then it would get boring. I guess the point that I am trying to make is that when I am on my deathbed what am I going to look back on? Will it be 30 years of playing a game that in reality means nothing, or will it be 30 years of fighting crime and protecting the country from all enemies, foreign and domestic.
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I want my life to account for something more than just a game. In life there are no winners, everyone eventually loses their life. I only have so much time; I can't waste it with a game. I don't want those close to me to look at me and tell me that I was good at a game. I want to be good at life; I want to be known as the best of the best at my job. I want people to need me, to count on me. I am never late; I am either on time or early. I want to help people. I want to fight for something, be part of something that is greater than myself. I want to be a soldier or something of that caliber, maybe a cop or a secret service agent.

I want to live forever; the only way that one could possibly achieve it in this day and age is to live on in those you have affected......