The sky above was black and blue, its usual bruised condition in November. Ah, November! With its limited hues of brown and gray and its naked trees; branches reaching upward in prayer for snowfall that will linger on limbs and blanket the barren ground with diamond dust.
My father, a Korean War veteran, always said that a Korean winter reminded him of a northern Maine November. I was on my way to the Caribou Veterans’ Cemetery to look once again at the flag that flew in my father’s honor and I thought suddenly of a photo I had seen on the Internet of a young solder recently back from Iraq. He was lying against a solid brick building with his possessions scattered around him; a backpack, duffel bag, and water bottle. The young man was dressed in camouflage and the caption under the photo claimed that he was homeless. The photo also included pedestrians walking by him, their eyes straight ahead with no obvious notice of the young soldier at their feet.
It is because of him and the tens of thousands before him, and after him, that we have the ability to scurry on by; heading to our jobs or our homes or the gym or the shopping mall. It is because of his sacrifice and the sacrifice of so many others that we have the right to choose, to criticize, and to become whatever it is we imagine ourselves to be. Yet, here he lies alone on the street with no place to go and no one to embrace him and thank him for his service to a nation that is not perfect but remains strong and free.
As I stand beside my father’s flag, I cannot help but wonder how many other homeless veterans roam American cities and towns with no safe place to sleep, little food to eat, and inadequate clothing. In a nation of such great wealth and prosperity, there should be no tolerance for homelessness, be it man, woman, or child. I strongly believe that taking care of our precious American people should be our purpose and our priority. And, we should hang our heads in shame with the knowledge that some of those people who put their lives on the line to protect you and me are reduced to living on the streets.
I drove around the cemetery, acknowledging the untold stories we will never hear. We are fortunate to have a veterans’ cemetery here in Caribou, Maine. Both my Mom and Dad passed away before the cemetery was constructed, so they are buried elsewhere. If my father were still living, I know his request would be to be buried with his comrades.
Veterans Day is on Monday, November 11. Most of us have a relative or a friend who is a veteran, and many of us are veterans ourselves. Let’s take a moment on November 11 to honor those both living and passed who have strived to sustain the superiority of this great nation. Let’s support all endeavors to end homelessness.
Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
