Monday, April 21, 2008

Am I A Fireman Yet??


In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness,she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up & fullfill all his dreams.
Now that was no longer possible. The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true. She took her son's hand and asked, 'Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?'


Mommy, 'I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.' Mom smiled back and said, 'Let's see if we can make your wish come true.' Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big As Phoenix .
She explained her son's final wish and Asked if it might be possible to give her 6 year old son a ride around the block on a fire engine. Fireman Bob said, 'Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day.

He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slickers like we wear and rubber boots.

They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix , so we can get them fast.' Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck . Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedics' van, and even the fire chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible. One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.

The chief replied, 'We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system, that there is not a fire? It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room? About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window-------- 16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him. With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the Fire Chief and said, Chief, am I really a fireman now?' 'Billy, you are, and the Head Chief, Jesus, is holding your hand,' the Chief said. With those words, Billy smiled and said, 'I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing..' He closed his eyes one last time.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Just Another Soldier


I stand on a Pedestal you put me here.

You don't know me not even my name.

You call me a hero. I'm no better than the rest.

Many came before me and now lay to rest.

I wear a flag on my arm and my name on my chest.

I'm just another soldier.


I lay my life on the line for my country and this land.

I'm way across the desert fighting in the sand.

My brothers falling around me going home in flag draped box.

Yet I'm still standing solid as a rock.

I will not quit because my brother is gone.

I took my oath I will carry on.

I'm just another soldier.


I know some can't be here though they wish they could be.

I'm here for you my neighbor because freedom don't come free.

Don't worry that you can't be here my true brother or my friends.

I'm fighting in your place.

If I fall down and die don't let them call me a disgrace.

I'm fighting for the politician who gave himself a raise

but won't put on a uniform and join me in this place.

I'm just another soldier.


I will stay till my mission is done or until the war is won.

My family of brothers we will all come home.

For the ones who came before us and those yet to come.

We all volunteered, knew the cost,

and that not every battle would be won.

None is better than the rest.

We just do what we were trained to do.

Some will die and some will come home.

Remember we're all brothers and soldiers to the end.

I'm just another soldier.


The ones that died around me.

They are the heroes that I see.

They gave there lives so others could be free.

Their families cry for them while mine waits for me.

So please don't call me hero.

I'm no better than the rest.

When I die they will bury me in a flagged draped box just like the rest.

Please just don't forget to pin my medals on my chest.

Because I'm just another soldier.

No better than the rest.


Copyright 2005, Bruce A. Harbison, All Rights Reserved
Bruce Harbison is currently deployed in Iraq

Red Shirt Fridays



Last week I was in Atlanta, Georgia attending a conference. While I was in the airport, returning home, I heard several people behind me beginning to clap and cheer. I immediately turned around and witnessed one of the greatest acts of patriotism I have ever seen.


Moving thru the terminal was a group of soldiers in their camos. As they began heading to their gate, everyone (well almost everyone) was abruptly to their feet with their hands waving and cheering.


When I saw the soldiers, probably 30-40 of them, being applauded and cheered for, it hit me. I'm not alone. I'm not the only red-blooded American who still loves this country and supports our troops and their families.


Of course I immediately stopped and began clapping for these young unsung heroes who are putting their lives on the line everyday fo r us so we can go to school, work and home without fear or reprisal.


Just when I thought I could not be more proud of my country or of our service men and women, a young girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old ran up to one of the male soldiers. He kneeled down and said 'hi.'


The little girl then asked him if he would give something to her daddy for her.


The young soldier, who didn't look any older than maybe 22 himself, said he would try and what did she want to give to her daddy. Then suddenly the little girl grabbed the neck of this soldier, gave him the biggest hug she could muster and then kissed him on the cheek.


The mother of the little girl, who said her daughter's name was Courtney, told the young soldier that her husband was a Marine and had been in Iraq for 11 months now. As the mom was explaining how much her daughter Courtney missed her father, the young soldier began to tear up.


When this temporarily single mom was done exp laining her situation, all of the soldiers huddled together for a brief second. Then one of the other servicemen pulled out a military-looking walkie-talkie. They started playing with the device and talking back and forth on it.


After about 10-15 seconds of this, the young soldier walked back over to Courtney, bent down and said this to her, 'I spoke to your daddy and he told me to give this to you.' He then hugged this little girl that he had just met and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He finished by saying 'your daddy told me to tell you that he loves you more than anything and he is coming home very soon.'


The mom at this point was crying almost uncontrollably and as the young soldier stood to his feet, he saluted Courtney and her mom. I was standing no more than 6 feet away from this entire event.


As the soldiers began to leave, heading towards their gate, people resumed their applause. As I stood there applauding and looked around, t here were very few dry eyes, including my own. That young soldier in one last act of selflessness turned around and blew a kiss to Courtney with a tear rolling down his cheek.


We need to remember everyday all of our soldiers and their families and thank God for them and their sacrifices. At the end of the day, it's good to be an American.


RED FRIDAYS ----- Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing Red every Friday. The reason? Americans who support our troops used to be called the 'silent majority'. We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for God, country and home in record breaking numbers.

We are not organized, boisterous or over-bearing. We get no liberal media coverage on TV, to reflect our message or our opinions. Many Americans, like you, me and all our friends, simply want to recognize that the vast majority of America supports our troops.Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity and respect starts this Friday - and continues each and everyFriday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening message that...


Every red-blooded American who supports our men and women afar will wear something red. By word of mouth, press, TV -- let's make the United States on every Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming football game in the bleachers. If every one of us who loves this country will share this with acquaintances, co-workers, friends, and family. It will not be long before the USA is covered in RED and it will let our troops know the once 'silent' majority is on their side more than ever; certainly more than the media lets on.


The first thing a soldier says when asked 'What can we do to make things better for you?' is......We need your support and your prayers.


Let's get the word out and lead with class and dignity, by example; and wear something red every Friday.