The Man Below Me and to My Right

Deliberately, each of his withered fingers wrapped around the arms of his wheelchair one by one until the old warrior’s claws trembled.

When Pastor Chuck began to pray, every head bowed and every eye closed. Except mine.

I was watching the man below me and to my right. The way he was fidgeting in his seat had me curious.

The Sunday before Memorial Day, Pastor Chuck invited former and active military to stand. Here and there across the room men and women stood. Younger men and women from recent desert campaigns were quick to their feet. Silver-haired, square-shouldered men from Vietnam stood more slowly. Bald-headed men clutched the seat backs in front of them and arose..... READ MORE