T E X A R K A N A M A G A Z I N E
A t the intersection of politics and culture, where our finances and reality connect, we find the shifting landscape of the past two years. Our circumstances and prospects for the future continue to be as unpredictable as the stock market and as unreliable as the recent, randomly forced mandates. Many Americans desire a return to their pre-2019 lives which were untainted by the coronavirus. Today is the tomorrow we feared yesterday, but hoped would never come. The light at the end of the tunnel has grown increasingly dim in the face of a vain and fickle political landscape that seeks to suffocate the future and kill the spirit of Americanism. The American spirit is our lifeblood and can be heard in the sound our heroes utter in silence from the grave. A growing number of Americans, myself included, have become unrelenting in our efforts not to return to a pre-2019 way of life, but to press forward towards a new reality. In this new reality, there is an increased focus on positive economic change and an opportunity to concentrate on personal growth. Greater than these are the acknowledgments of seeds planted and rooted by generations past that still bear fruit. However, there are others asking for change, but ironically those voices seek to silence the legacy and inheritance of America while covertly advocating for a new global agenda, a pseudo-Great Reset. Neither the rise of national socialism nor COVID-19 can contaminate our great national legacy. As we look to Memorial Day, are there lessons from our soldiers, seamen, airmen and marines that can be applied to our post coronavirus environment? There can be no honor or tribute without the sacrifices that are born through service. There can be no healing or mending without the wounds that are born through the pain of battle, and at the highest order, there can be no liberty or freedom unless they are born by the blood of patriots who consistently defeat the evils of tyranny. Remember always that war is indeed war. Regardless of where or when war is fought, foreign or domestic war is hell heaped upon men by men. Hence, we honor and remember the fallen as well as those who have endured the fiery furnace of battle. Memorial Day is solemn, personal and heartfelt as we reminisce about the brave. We who believe in freedom can never rest until the badge of selfless service is passed to the next generation. As the young become champions in battle and professionals in conflict, the old become stewards of history and tellers of great tales that describe the noble deeds of friends who have fallen. I am in limbo, left with detailed memories of watching a female Army Lieutenant and her team burn to death in a vehicle after an Improvised Explosive Device (IED) erupted in the night sky, transforming calm into chaos and binding flesh to metal while leaving an eternal stain on us all. The United States of America and its LEST WE FORGET BY CHARLES JORDAN
photo by Matt Cornelius
people charged me, and those I served alongside, with the inevitable task of transporting battle damaged vehicles, and the wreckage of lost humanity in and out of the Iraqi theater of operation. I am an eyewitness and participant in war with the first-hand aroma of the ultimate sacrifice. Death comes to us all, but death with valor is limited to a few. I am left with the harsh reality of watching three Marines die, giving their lives heroically for an increasingly deviant, ungrateful nation filled with entitled adolescent adults who use quick one-liners as weapons of warfare. Nothing can hold your thoughts captive like remembering the cruel nights turning to dark days of stinging loss. War is hell on your body and mind. The foolish continue to compare actual warfare to sociocultural complaining about fighting fallacies of injustice or perceived oppression from the safety of their parents’ basements while securely being indoctrinated by the unproven theories in academe. I remember. I remember the hurt that came with knowing a family member died in Iraq defending this great nation, having walked the same stretches of road that I walked, but called to be an eternal hero. While having his left leg and left hand blown off, the amputation of his other extremities caused a healthy 37-year-old to have a massive heart attack while in trauma surgery. If we forget that war is a personal endeavor that requires intimate sacrifice, we might be tempted to fall under the spell of those who believe healthcare, housing
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