Preparation for Memorial Day - Cigar Asylum Cigar Forum

I would like to extend a huge THANK YOU to all that have served, are serving, and all those who have given their lives for our freedom.

:-)

I got this email from my fiance's father who is a retired Marine. I thought I would share this with the rest of the community.

It is the
VETERAN,
not the preacher,
who has given us freedom of religion.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the reporter,
who has given us freedom of the press.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the poet,
who has given us freedom of speech.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the campus organizer,
who has given us freedom to assemble.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the politician,
Who has given us the right to vote.

It is
the
VETERAN
who serves
under the Flag,

God
Bless them all!!

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Pictures continued...

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Very cool and very true!
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:-) and a big :-) to all who serve and have served.
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Here! Here!

:-)
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Been flying my POW/MIA flag out front all week. Usually fly it the week before and after Memorial day and the same goes for the 4th of July. Thanks to all of those who have served to give me that freedom to put that flag up. Too often those who have given themselves to their country get overlooked.
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Good stuff Jim!! :-) :-)
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Image

Day is done...
Gone the sun
From the lake...
From the hills...
From the sky.
... All is well...
Safely rest
God is nigh.

Fading light....
Dims the sight
And a star....
Gems the sky....
Gleaming bright
From afar....
Drawing nigh
Falls the night.
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Awesome posts! Thank you for the reminder. And thanks to all who are serving or have served!:-)
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Image

On a drizzly D.C. morning, in the middle of July,
My brother brought me downtown to the Mall;
Past the watchful eyes of Lincoln, 'neath a weeping summer sky,
We crossed the street to the little green and visited The Wall.

I remember I was nervous then, I guess a little scared,
'Cause I wasn't sure how I'd react at all;
To see the names of the servicemen who'd been recorded there:
Who'd heard the final roll call and assembled at The Wall.

Someone might stoop to leave a rose, a letter, or a poem;
A message to a young man loved and lost,
To show they still remember those who never made it home:
Who built The Wall so long and tall, and paid the bitter cost.

And every name's a father or a husband or a son,
Or a daughter or a brother or a cousin to someone;
Or a name might be a classmate or a friend you may recall:
There's nearly sixty thousand fallen names still waiting at The Wall.

As I watched the lines of people that walked by in slow parade,
I read a different story in each face;
And I couldn't help but wonder at this pilgrimage we'd made,
And what common bond, if any, might have brought us to this place.

There were tourists, and the curious, and some veterans who came,
Still others who sought an answer to it all;
But the only thing I'm sure of is: we left not quite the same,
With our memories alive and well, and waiting at The Wall.
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