"My Oath Of Enlistment Has No Expiration Date!" Robert Rice The American Veterans' Last Salute March... (A War Story...About Love) One Veteran's Glorious Gift To America's Veterans...

This is one column that is both easy and yet incredibly difficult to write. I really don't care to write anything that might seem in any way self-serving. Dad and I really do want to help others as best we can, and the cause of service to others is what this column is all about.

There is one group of people who never complain about my writing. They are silent and respectful, because they must be. They are the dear honored departed who once lived as we do now, but now lie at rest in our nearby cemeteries. Among those whom all of us have most recently revered are our veterans, and particularly those who have gone on before us. I've heard one astonishing statistic, for example, that puts the number of veterans lying in Lakewood Park Cemetery at over 3,200.

No, this column will not and cannot be self-serving for my family. Please do not read it as being thus.
Still, there is a wonderful story here that does involve my family and all American veterans. It's one of those stories that just has to be told.

That our veterans are one of our most valuable national resources is a given. The passing of America's last WWI veteran reminds us that America's WWII veterans are now leaving us at an estimated rate of over a thousand lives every day. With my 91-year-old WWII vet dad, that point comes home to me daily in no uncertain terms. Others have noted that Dad's generation saved a world from tyranny and dictatorships, and went on in the post-war era to build a national economic juggernaut second to none. Whatever happened on the beaches of Normandy or in the forests around Bastogne (or for that matter, on those deadly chemical weapons training grounds where my father served) was all left behind, as families were raised and lives were rebuilt.

As human beings, we want to believe that we can compromise and come to agreement with others. We believe, we must believe, that there has to be some way, somehow, that people can learn to get along in peace...and yet, sometimes...there comes that line in the sand where principles are involved that cannot and must not be compromised. That's where our soldiers come in. They stand between us and many others who, quite frankly, would like to see our country vanquished.

I think that I'm starting to ramble on a bit here. It's just that there are so many facts, so many angles to all of this story. "Human interest," I think they call a story like this, so let me come to the point.

My dear late mom, Betty Rice, passed away nearly seven years ago. She and Dad were married for nearly 60 years. I knew that I had to get Dad busy very quickly after she died. Because he was a retired band and orchestra director, with musical composing and arranging experience going back to the days before WWII, I thought that if I could teach him about the computer and a music-writing program, maybe that could help him pass the time and ease his grieving.

We loaded up a music program into a laptop computer and started from square one. Dad had to learn that a "mouse" doesn't necessarily squeak. He learned how to get online, read e-mail, and how and why he should save his work. He found that lesson out rather abruptly when he was on about page 35 of writing his autobiography when the computer 's power failed, and he lost every bit of his project. Still, he took to writing music on computers like ducks take to water. When the laptop's screen began to dim over time, we found him an over-sized screen to ease his eyestrain. In the past seven years, Dad has created many compositions on the computer, and, with my help, has created full band marches for Garfield School, Lakewood High School, St. Edward High School, Lakewood Catholic Academy, and for the All-Ohio State Fair Band. (He had already composed a "Harding March" for the school where he taught in Lakewood.)

Not long ago, Dad received several packets in the mail. One was from a Pennsylvania state representative awarding Dad a medal for his WWII service. The other was a packet of appreciation sent from the U. S. Army. After receiving that packet, my then 90-year-old father wanted to go straight down to the recruiter and re-enlist! Dad believed, with all of his heart, that his oath of enlistment had no expiration date. He seriously wanted to get back into uniform! After a few days of talking about all of this, Dad and I came up with a more constructive and realistic way for him to continue to serve his country.

We discovered that the veterans of this country apparently had no song of their own. There were any number of songs honoring our Armed Forces, but songs for veterans? None that we could find. Now, here was a mission that was right up Dad's alley!

In an incredibly short period of time, "The American Veterans' Last Salute March" was born. This was a full band march written to be played by any number of small ensembles, as well as for a large band. We enjoyed doing it together as a father-son project. Basically, Dad created the music, and I wrote the words.
During WWII, Dad noticed that during a march-past, the melody of a song was often carried by only one section of instruments. For most of the march-past, the reviewing stand would hear only the other parts of the piece. Dad came up with a brilliant system that is still in use today in the services, where all parts are written for all main sections of the band, so that not only will the melody not be lost in a march-past, but virtually any small combo can form, and be given melody and harmony parts to play, when deployed in the field or at a hospital.

This past Memorial Day weekend, "The American Veterans' Last Salute March" was featured by the Cleveland area Letter Carriers Band at several area cemeteries. A community John Shepherd remembrance was held in North Royalton at their Unitarian Church by the municipal cemetery where Revolutionary War survivor John Shepherd (117+ years-old) is buried. The Cleveland Shrine Band performed on that occasion, and at all three of these occasions, Dad directed the bands while I performed drumming duties. At the Shepherd event, Dad and I were presented proclamations by Congressman Kucinich's office, and Dad also received an American flag that had been flown over our nation's capitol.

"Glorious gifts" indeed come in many packages. They comprise the summation of the positive time and talents that everyone, everywhere gives to others, every day of our lives, both in this country and around the world. These gifts are especially apparent when they come from ordinary people who do extraordinary acts of kindness that benefit others, with little or no hope of return for themselves.

Hats off to America's veterans, and to you all, especially those of you who serve others in whatever way that you are able. Hats off to Lakewood's hundreds of civic volunteers, and to our safety forces, our teachers, and our municipal and school support personnel.

Hats off, too, to all dads everywhere, and especially to you, Dad. Happy Father's Day. Thank you for your own glorious gifts to the pulse of this city, and to our nation.