The picture above is my father Richard Troshak. He was the
son of an immigrant, who spent much of his youth in an orphanage. Before he was old enough to drink,
the pic you see above was snapped and he was in Germany serving the United
States Army in World War II. He also served a few years later in the Korean
War. He passed away in 2009, after a long successful life and marriage and
having helped raised myself and my two siblings with my mom. I felt a need to talk
about him and his brothers and sisters in the military, as I cleaned out an email-box
full of "Memorial Day Sale" messages and watched the local news.
Apparently the most important thing we need to know about the holiday is that
there are a lot of people on the beach at the Jersey Shore and the water is
fine, so jump in.
Memorial Day is a U.S. holiday that was created as a day to give respect to the people
who gave their lives in the cause of keeping the country free. You might not
agree with the political parties or the president or whatever, but the reality
is that the U.S. has it pretty good compared to a lot of other places. There will always
be ways things can be better, but we always have a chance to make them better
because of the sacrifices of a lot of brave and selfless people. If my dad were
here he would have probably scowled at the TV like I did, and thought about the
people that he trained with and served with that didn’t come back. Like me he
probably would have wondered if we had lost sight of the fact that since World
War I over six hundred thousand Americans have died as a result of actions
classified as war. That’s over six hundred thousand loved ones who gave the
ultimate sacrifice so that we could be free to worry about the water
temperature at the beach and whose house we are going to for a barbecue on
Monday.
Earlier this year I covered a concert by the group Flogging Molly for
Phawker.com. I had never seen them and I had always connected them with my dad, although
he probably never heard a note they played while he was alive. I took dad to
his first concert, when he was seventy years old, to see Johnny Cash at the
Keswick Theatre. Cash was on tour for his first American Recordings album and it
was a magical performance. Dad bought me a vinyl copy of that album from the
merchandise stand at the show that is a prized possession of mine. The singer of
Flogging Molly, Dave King, is an immigrant from strife torn Ireland who has written a lot of songs about his father and family. The song that always makes me think of my dad is one that King dedicated to his dad (who coincidentally bought him his first Johnny Cash record) called “What’s Left Of The Flag.” It is the story of a father who with his
dying breath still believes in freedom and loves his country, no matter how rough it's history has been. I am listening to
it right now thinking about how lucky I was to have my dad for so long and
about all those people who weren’t as lucky as me. I am not trying to ruin your
picnic, so fire up the grill. I am asking you to not lose sight of why this day was originally set aside as a holiday. Take a moment Monday to think
about all the people who weren’t lucky enough to keep their loved one as long
as I was, and to thank them for their sacrifices and your freedom.
