In high school, I ran into lonely young man with a keen intellect.   He was full of life and future promise.  Many nights we would sit in his 1940 coup until well after midnight, discussing philosophy, science, religion, school, cars, women, politics and airplanes.  Not necessarily in that order.  We went camping and fishing together and thrived on our talks.  It was if our minds were one, each searching together for life's truths.  Young men tend to be idealistic, as we were, but it was the beginning of a life-long friendship.  This young man was talented by every measure.  He could have been anything he wanted to be.  Instead his choice lead him down a path he could have never imagined, much less desired.
 
After high school, we went our separate ways.  He joined the Army and my knowledge of his Army life was sparse.  Occasionally, I would receive a letter or a post card with a short note.  He told me of his relationship with a German girl that had soured and made him ill to the point that he lost his sight and he ended up in San Francisco's Presidio Hospital.  I remember thinking at the time that the story was a little strange.  I visited him in the hospital.   I was told later that his sight returned after two holes were bored in his skull to relieve the pressure.  His recovery extended into months.
 
He eventually was discharged and later married and had one child.  I did not see or talk to him much after he married.  I remember he became quite religious, for good reason it seems.
 
Several years ago I visited him.  He had quit his job and could no longer work.  He was confined to his home and could barely walk.  His legs had ballooned up to nearly three times their normal size.  I never asked him why, not wanting to embarrass him.
 
Not long before he died, I was told he was in the VA Hospital, so I went to visit him.  I finally got up the courage to ask him about his legs.  As he sat by his hospital bed, he appeared unshaven, somewhat disheveled, wearing a maroon shirt, an Army ranger hat and shorts, which exposed his legs.  They were grotesquely immense and covered with white scales and red blotches.  He could only get around in a wheel chair.
 
He began his story by telling me that he was a prisoner of war in Vietnam for well over two years, prior to the U. S. military build up.  He had been sent into Vietnam with a small special forces unit for intelligence and reconnaissance.  Because his mission as an Army Ranger was secret, he maintained his German cover story.  He explained that as torture, his captors would put him in a cage suspended from a rope and then lower his body in the river, with just his head showing, for days at a time.  The river was essentially a human sewer.  The doctor's believed that river fungus attacked his legs, causing the bloating, scaling, blotchy and unsightly conditions.   He lived with this fungus the rest of his life.  The doctors could do little to treat it.
 
I asked how he escaped and he said that Army helicopters flew over and blasted the prison camp.  He described buildings disintegrating, while trucks and bodies were flying through the air.  His two guards were distracted by the attack and one ran off.  The other guard looked away for a second, which was my friend's opportunity.  He grabbed a shovel and removed the guard's head, reached down and picked up the automatic weapon and ran into the jungle.  He wandered for days with no idea where he was until he found himself somewhere in Thailand.  Friendly soldiers took him to safety.  He was transferred to Presidio Hospital in San Francisco where his injuries from captivity were treated.  That was when I visited him, not having any clue to his real ordeal.
 
Unfortunately, the doctors couldn't do much for him and he was transferred to an old soldiers' home to live out the rest of his painful life.  He lost his battle with life on July 4th, 2006.  I was one of the few friends he had, as he was estranged from his wife.  His son, a pilot for a major airline, lives out of state and visited his dad as he could.
 
So why is his story relevant to Veteran's Day?  Because he is one of hundreds of thousands of brave men and women that were ordered by our government to sacrifice their lives, limbs and minds in the defense of our Constitutional freedoms.  But now those very freedoms and our property rights are under attack by our own Government.  We must fight with a government that has subscribed to the doctrine that environmental protection trumps constitutional liberties, while they steal our land.  This same government promotes defeat, hopelessness and makes victims out its citizens.  It strips them of their pride, their dignity and their independence.  If we look away from this battle and do nothing, we dishonor the sacrifices of my friend and many other brave souls who endured and are enduring, unimaginable hardships across the front lines from our enemies, so that all of us can remain free.  I ask in his name that you join with me in making sure that the foundation of this great Nation, our Constitutions, are forever protected and vigorously defended.  I ask that together we take up our weapons of legislative and judicial actions and civil disobedience in this fight against our Government, so that my friend's sacrifice and those of his brave brethren will have not been in vain.
 
We must recognize that our government's attack on our constitutional liberties is endless.  This country of WE THE PEOPLE is supposed to be a country of WE THE PEOPLE, not THEM THE GOVERNMENT.   WE THE PEOPLE have been hiding under a rock and if we allow the destruction of our Constitution, it won't be the Twin Towers that will have tumbled down, it will be our whole way of life and the very foundation that made and kept us free.  For without our Constitution we are just another country immersed in socialism, mind-numbing mediocrity and vanishing liberty. 

Ron Ewart, President
NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF RURAL LANDOWNERS
P. O. Box 1031, Issaquah, WA  98027
425 222-4742 or 1 800 682-7848
(Fax No. 425 222-4743)
Website: www.narlo.org
Think about forming a NARLO affiliate in your state.

WE'RE REALLY COUNTING ON YOU TO HELP US CONTINUE THIS FIGHT.
 
To donate to NARLO, send us a check or money order by U. S. mail to:
 
NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF RURAL LANDOWNERS (NARLO)
P. O. Box 1031, Issaquah, WA  98027
425 222-4742 or 1 800 682-7848
(Fax No. 425 222-4743)
E-mail: info@narlo.org
 
You are welcome to use the printable form on our website at: www.narlo.org/membershipapp.html.
Or to make a credit card donation to NARLO, visit our website at:
http://www.narlo.org/donate.html
 
 
DONATE AN ITEM:
 
You are also welcome to donate any article or item of value that is just sitting around taking up space,
that you don't need or want any more.  We accept computer or office equipment of any kind, old books,
coins and stamp collections, cameras and binoculars, saleable art, hand or electric tools,  stereos, tv's,
radios, amateur radio equipment, IPODS, cell phones, microwave ovens, old 33, 45 or 75 RPM
records, CD-ROM discs, antiques, small appliances, etc.
 
Send the item, UPS or Fed EX, pre-paid, to:  4451 308th Ave. S. E., Fall City, WA  98024.
 
or send it by U. S. Mail, pre-paid, to:  P. O. Box 813, Fall City, WA  98024.
 
Do you have a house, lot or land parcel that you aren't going to use or build on, anywhere in the
11 Western States.  Or a car, truck, boat, trailer, airplane, or an ORV, snowmobile or jet ski,
that is just sitting around.  We also willingly accept donated real estate or vehicles.

Good Neighbor Committee
P.O. Box 155 - La Salle, CO  80645
info@goodneighborlaw.com

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