Purple Heart

Memorial Day weekend brings me back to my early childhood growing up in Wisconsin. My father would grill out hamburgers and hot dogs with a beer in his hand. This was a rare day when us kids could enjoy soda and chips, Charles Chip’s in a big tub if we had them. They still make them today.

My father grew up in Indianapolis, IN and my mother in Muenster, IN. The Indy 500 was a tradition for my father listening to it on his transistor radio. Now, we have the luxury of watching it live on TV. They taped the race playing it later that night on TV. For some reasons, I remember the race on Monday’s, not sure when it changed to Sunday’s. For me, it was probably the most important holiday my father celebrated. I can’t confirm this but looking back those are the memories that tell me so.

Memorial Day is also a remembrance of those soldiers who have fallen in battle. A few years back it took on a new meaning. My Uncle told me the story about when my father went into combat during the Korean war; in which, he received the Purple Heart.

My father was a Marine who lost a part of his face due to a mortar. Once a Marine, always a Marine. I never had the guts to ask my Dad before he passed what happened. Thanks to my Uncle, I know the reason my father loved Memorial Day, besides the Indy500.

The mortar that blew up injuring my father, killed his best friend. The unfortunate part is this happens all too often. A person is saved while another tragically lost fighting the evil of this world. Millions of people are alive today because of the sacrifices of others lost on the battlefield.

It is a shame we do not learn from the sacrifices of war by allowing millions of babies to be aborted every year. This means millions of other people can’t enjoy the freedoms these service members died for in battle. A modern-day war against an unborn baby. Even Pope Francis agrees, he says killing an unborn child is like hiring a hitman to solve the problem.

Every year, more babies are aborted than all the soldiers killed in battle since the beginning of the United States. More babies die every day than all the US soldiers who died during the Revolutionary War which gave us these freedoms.

My dad did not have faith in God when we were kids. I am not sure if this is a direct result of losing his friend that day. My uncle asked me if I wanted my Dad’s childhood Holy Bible which means at one time he believed in God. War can do that to you. I thank God for saving his life.

My life is dedicated to making his legacy live on. My next journey will be a new life into politics, one my mom knows very well being an alderwoman for many years as well as mayor for 12 years. She was the first Wisconsin woman mayor. Big steps to follow, an amazing woman filled with the highest integrity.

My mom groomed my early years, God groomed my adult years. My name Donald means “World Ruler” and Smith means metalworker i.e. blacksmith, gunsmith, goldsmith, etc… God has groomed me to embrace the political arena to bring hope and peace through belief in God as the Creator to govern our lives.

Every Memorial Day give thanks in remembrance of those who lost their lives. God Bless the United States of America.