Happy New Year! Another year of freedom passes in the central plains!

Today my thoughts go to our military members, many of whom are from the central plains ‘red’ states; folks that are conservative and believe in freedom, life, liberty and the 2nd amendment. Folks from families with a long proud American heritage that are only a few generations removed from their stoic ancestors. Ancestors who fought the arduous prairie conditions way back when.

I am in no way purposely excluding others in my comments and just making comments on a small slice of America that I know.

My travels include…  … an annual trip to Montana from central Texas each year for the last 4 years.   Local U.S. Highway 83 out of Abilene, TX takes me straight to South Dakota where I then travel west-northwest to my part of heaven in Montana.  I have also traveled and hunted areas of the central plains nearer to Texas and Oklahoma quite extensively for the last 12 years since retirement from the Navy.  My dad moved to this part of Texas around 73/74 so my view of the central plains dates back to the mid-seventies.

The residents of the central plains states have my utmost respect. I have learned much about them in my upland bird hunting travels. I now see that my small local plains community has a common thread; kind folks with a strong work ethic and sincerely proud to be an American.  Folks who aren’t afraid to turn a wrench, plow a field, run a merchant store, feed cattle, etc.   Strong communities who rally behind one another in tough times.

Small town signs that read “We support our troops” in merchant windows and sometimes banners across main street greet returning troops. Yellow ribbons are on main street light poles while merchants and waitresses often wear a yellow ribbon on their lapel. The townsfolk are proud of their military ‘boys and girls’.

During hunting season you will often see banners stretched wide proclaiming ‘welcome hunters’.  It’s not a gimmick, they are truly glad to see hunters who are vital to the local economy.  They know we travel there from all all over the U.S.

Every small American town has a gathering place. You’ve all seen it, it’s that one ‘unofficial’ cafe where the elders of the community gather for early morning coffee to discuss everything from crops and weather to politics and ‘when the boys’ will be back home.

So similar are the cafe’s that on a cold morning in a Nebraska while eating breakfast, I could have closed my eyes and swore I was back home in Clyde or Cross Plains had it not been for the Nebraskan accent.  Farmers and ranchers dressed in worn blue jeans, grease stained Carhartts, frayed ball caps and hard worn work boots.   Merchants were there too sipping hot coffee and chatting prior to the opening of the local stores while retirees, seemingly relaxed, enjoyed the happenings that make up small town life.  The local law officer was there as well, chatting it up so to speak.

All of these small towns have yet another important gathering place. The local veterans memorial.  A stone with names of those who served and those who made the ultimate sacrifice. Usually located somewhere near town hall or the county courthouse. The carved names on the gray stone are the only mark through time that tell a story of someone long gone.

The names on these memorials are a vital part of each towns history.  Often times, families who were unrelated 65 years ago are now related.  Perhaps one of the fallen heroes of the ‘great generation’ had a son who later married a young woman from another local family.  The memorial is about more than respecting veterans, it is often a remembrance of family heritage and the extremely high price that was paid on foreign shores to build their community.  Whole generations and family bloodlines are often lost when they made the ultimate sacrifice.

As I grip my shotgun on a cold January day, I promise to think how lucky I am and to ignore annoying thoughts like the  weather is cold or my dog didn’t do so well.  I promise to grasp the fact that what I am doing is a result of hard fought freedom.  I promise to be proud that I am able to quietly pursue my hobby without fear of reprisal.

I promise to think about the soldier, sailor, airmen and marine that is gripping a cold steel weapon on the front lines.  I promise to step forward and genuinely thank the ’stranger’ in uniform now matter how shy I am.

I promise to thank ‘em for all that they do to protect a free America, an America free of radicals whose religion instructs them to kill all of us ‘infidels’.  I promise to never forget 9/11 and the fact that the radicals brought the war to our shores by cowardly killing American citizens. 

I am unashamed about supporting strong leadership who have the resolve to do something about it.