An Unusual Homecoming

I had been at many a homecoming, but this one was different.  I wasn’t used to being a “civilian” standing on the shore, watching the ships come in, but that’s what today was.  I was on the shores of Fernadina Beach, just that.  I could see the signs across the St. John’s River, welcoming daddys, husbands, brothers, sons, home, but I wasn’t one of them.

I looked up at my dad, who stood tall and proud.  I can’t remember a time when my dad slouched when he stood (unless he was leaning on something).  He was always at attention.  As we had walked down to the river’s edge, many people stopped Dad because he had a USS Enterprise command cap on.  They talked to him about it.  “Tell your son ‘Thank you!’ for serving our nation.” 

One man noticed a small little ribbon pin on the cap and asked about it.  “I was in ‘Nam.” Dad said.  Even though I had known that fact, it still floored me to hear him say it.  It wasn’t spoken of in our house, but we all knew.

That man shook my dad’s hand and thanked him.  “Sorry we didn’t give you the proper homecoming the way we’s giving these men.”  There were a few others around that followed suit.  Until that moment, I had only seen my dad cry once and that was when we left a church.  He didn’t cry when Uncle Leonard or Great Gramma Borton died. 

But, now?  Gentle tears rolled down his face. I wasn’t sure what those tears meant.  But, I knew that he moved by something. And I felt my own tears form. 

As we made our way through the thankful crowd, cheering my dad as he walked, I saw no less than 50 American flags blowing.  Chants of “USA! USA!” filled my ears and my dad was shaking hand after hand, trying to not take away from the boys coming home.

A cheer to our right made us look.  There she was.  The gray aft of the USS Saratoga.  She was home.  And all I could think of was Jennifer and her family on the opposite shore, waving there banners, and wiping the grateful tears.

It would be later, in talking with Jennifer, that I found out that her dad faced where the civilians were.

As the Toga got closer, cheers grew louder and somewhere, a small voice started singing “God Bless America.”  Little by little every voice on that beach sang those words.

There was pride and patriotism on that beach.  Flags waved.

Jennifer told me that her father, and those men on the starboard side of the ship, had come off, wiping their eyes.  They had heard the cheers…the singing…and read the signs.  They were moved that people who didn’t know them personally would welcome them with all the love of a family.

Most of them had been in Vietnam and, like my dad, never received a homecoming like this.

Over 20 years later and this day still brings tears of pride.  I will never forget that die, no matter how old I get.