Wearing The Hat With Pride

As I was leaving a college basketball game, I noticed this tiny old man walking out the same door as me. He was wearing an orange coat and a hat that seemed bigger than his head with the words"WWII Veteran. Served With Pride" in gold letters across the brim. I stuck my hand in front of him.

"It's always an honor to shake the hand of a World War II veteran."

His hand was seemed shriveled, yet was surprisingly strong. I asked him where he served.

"I served under General Patton," the man said proudly. I've read about Patton, but I've never heard what he was like from a first hand account.

"He was a terrible cusser, and all the glory went to him for everything," the man replied. "But he was an incredible general. He knew where to put every man to get the most out of him."

"I worked in military intelligence, and it was my job to spy on the Germans. But to do that, I had to cross Russia. The Russians detained me for five days in a dark room because they thought I was spying on the "Motherland." They said they were going to put a bullet in my head when the five days was up if I didn't confess. They fed me black biscuits and water, and I thought they were going to kill me. But they let me go."

I asked him where he served.

"I was one of the first into Austria and Rome. In fact, I was able to get a hold of a Nazi flag before they were all taken down. I keep it at home as a souvenir."

My wife collects snow globes. This man collects flags from dictators he helped overthrow. I collect conversations with people. Each one teaches me something new about the human spirit and uplifts me in some way. Some put a smile on my face, while others bring tears of admiration to my eyes.

This conversation was one of the latter.