Young Men With Dreams

Finally, tonight, the Valley Baseball League will begin its season.  Fans have waited since last August for today to arrive.  Throughout the winter we check the league website, eagerly awaiting the appearance of the new schedule.  It is printed and posted on my refrigerator almost as soon as it appears online.  In spite of my excitement, I look at the calendar and I can't help but think of what this date and tomorrow's represent.  Just as we are about to officially welcome a new group of young men to New Market and other Valley towns, I can't help but think of the young men from the Valley, who 65 years ago tomorrow morning, stormed the beaches of France.

I knew those guys who fought in World War II.  They were my father and his friends and the men who lived up and down the block.  They were old men to me, but now I am a father and with a father's eye, I Iook back on those old men and I see them as the boys they were.  Just young men with dreams.  They were just ordinary guys to me growing up, but now I see that they must have given thanks every day that they were allowed to live the rest of their lives in ordinary circumstances.

We should never forget the sacrifice of those who fought in WWII, both on the front-lines and at home.  That is why everyone should venture to Bedford, Virginia and see the National D-Day Memorial and learn about the "Bedford Boys."  The little town of Bedford, halfway between Lynchburg and Roanoke sent 32 of her sons into the Army.  Nineteen were killed on D-Day alone.  Learn their story.  Walk through their town; the factories and churches and homes are still there.  You will be touched.

I would like to believe that if those who died on the beaches could see us tonight in the stands, excited to be at a ballgame, helping another group of young men pursue a dream, that they would nod approvingly; that they would perhaps say with satisfaction, "This was worth the sacrifice."  Therefore, at some point tonight we should each take a moment and reflect on the fear and anxiety that those boys felt and be ever so grateful that they did their duty.  Then cheer louder, clap harder, breathe the June air more deeply.  It's the best way to say, "thanks."

"Across the Beach"
The National D-Day Memorial, Bedford, VA
Photo courtesy of Sarah Gisriel

Comments

[Melissa Dodge]

Thanks for the reality check, Austin. I do think they would be gratified to know that that their sacrifice has been well spent in the small cities and towns which enjoy the simple pleasure of baseball in it's purist form. As the daughter of a Viet Nam vet I know well the worry, pride, and prayers expended by the loved ones and communities that have sent their soldiers off to war. My next trip to France will include a visit to Normandy. My best friend lives in Paris and she says that she has never experienced anything as moving as the memorial located there.