Letters to My Granddaughter, Epilogue 

[November 20, 2024]  Here is some good news. That skinny small-town boy from the Deep South – and born on the bayou (like the 1969 CCR song) – turned out okay. I would marry and have two children; the happiest days of my life were their birth and their growing up. Nothing is more important or fulfilling than the family. Of course, being an educated and informed Christian is what sets the standard for proper moral values to live by.

I also spent a couple of months shy of forty years in the U.S. Army, advancing from the rank of Private to Brigadier General. In the Army, I met one of my life’s goals of being an Infantry “Buck“ Sergeant (like in the TV series Combat!) and then later being commissioned as an Infantry Officer, finishing my career as a Combat Engineer. Those years were often extraordinarily difficult but worth it; the hardest part was being separated from those I loved.

However, my military service was a small accomplishment relative to the amazing experience of meeting and working with some of the greatest people that America ever produced, both on and off the battlefield. They are why I’m so rich, not in money or fame but in family, friends, and acquaintances. They are the ones who ensured that I was a steady, ready, relevant, focused, and honorable man.

These letters I wrote were originally conceived to inform my granddaughter (and grandsons) about my life growing up, mostly growing up across the southern and southwestern states.  What I discovered along the many moves from town to town is that no matter where I was, my neighbors were always kind, helpful, hard-working, and darn good people to be in the company of, and they had families too that would grow and prosper. And yes, I did run into some really bad folks along the way that needed my attention.

Growing up, the young men that I looked up to were recently returning from WWII.  They were widely and rightly recognized as the Greatest Generation of our times. These men secured America’s greatest achievements, and we would write their names in our country’s history. I tried to model myself on them, those real men who were properly labeled as heroes.

Now, in my retirement years, people I meet will often ask if I miss living in the South: fishing, hunting, boating, living outdoors camping, and knowing all the good folks who live there. In these letters, I write fondly of “my people,” mostly living in Louisiana and Arkansas and later in Texas, those often living at the lowest rung on the socio-economic ladder.  Indeed, the nostalgia is strong. The siren song of the South still sings in my consciousness, calling me back, much like the 1974 hit song “I’m Coming Home” by a very famous singing group called The Spinners.

There should be little doubt about my love for the South, my family members who still live there, and those great folks I’ve known all my life. The best answer to the question I can give – whether I would live there again today – is not as important as those who remain my friends in the South.  I now have good friends who live all over America and, yes, across the world.  I do my best to stay in contact with them because I owe them for enriching my family and myself.

After I retired, I found some benefits to actively working in a small Boy Scout Troop. Seeing those boys learning the skills I learned across the rural areas of southern and southwestern states is emotionally comforting. My outdoor skills are a little rusty now, which is certainly true, but I picked up a few new ones, like how to keep my cellphone charged and use the GPS in my car.

Hey, if there is a useful tool, learn how to use it wisely and know how to do without it. I learned that when tragedy hits, all you might have are your skills, attitude, experience, and physical health.  And I have a spare paper map of the northeast U.S., a compass, and a tourniquet in my car’s glove compartment and a first aid kit in the trunk, just in case.

There is no need for me to get philosophical now that letters are at a close, but the “Letters to My Granddaughter” series is definitely at an end. I will occasionally write an article about an episode about growing up that I think might be of interest. I hope you enjoy these additional stories. Some are included here in my blog, and a few I may later publish.

An unexpected consequence of writing these letters is that I was able to see what I learned as a kid translated into success, or sometimes failure, in adulthood, and it benefited me greatly in the Army.  One early childhood example is that I owned and used guns for hunting. The link to the Army is obvious as I regularly qualified in the Army with pistol and rifle at the expert level. I also gained a deep respect for guns, gun safety, combat shooting, defensive use, lawful and ethical uses, and gained a better, more refined skill set in their employment when I retired.

I learned that the most important thing in our life on Earth is your family. That means putting out the effort to find a partner that you can marry, have children, and grow old with together. True, I wasn’t always that good at picking good women to date, and I sure dated some real doozies and some crazies. Close friends called some of them “wild.”  I called them “whackos.”  Common advice my good friends gave me was, “Drop that girl now.”  Of course, I would fail to listen to their advice and I paid a high price. Always pay attention to your friends.

As I write this epilogue, I sit in my easy chair with a cup of hot coffee; my dog sits at my feet. My lovely wife Nancy – who cares for me as I recover from knee replacement surgery – is what any man would want in a real woman. I learned that a good wife, children, and grandchildren matter more than any career or “things.”  But you must set reasonable standards and not allow creeping narcissism or other bad behaviors to destroy the family from within.

Now that I have been retired for a decade, I can read, think, and discuss with others what I’ve seen and learned and verify some details I overlooked or misunderstood. I’m still in contact with folks who live in Mer Rouge and Bonita, Louisiana – where most of my stories originate – who were able to provide names, confirm events, places, approximate dates, and answer some of my odd questions.  This is what spare time can provide to an old foot soldier.

Several family members have requested me to put these letters into book form so that others can enjoy my tales of growing up. My story is not so different from others, and there is not much that stands out here to merit such a book. I’ll decide that later.

I will dedicate these letters to my grandchildren, which is the obvious thing to do, but also to my parents and siblings, all major players in my life. To all of them, THANK YOU.

————

NOTE: See all my letters here: https://www.theleadermaker.com/granddaughter-letters/

————

Please read my books:

1. “55 Rules for a Good Life,” on Amazon (link here).
2. “Our Longest Year in Iraq,” on Amazon (link here).