Heroes

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This is an unexpected but very personal blog. Steve and I have been on a brief road trip for the past ten days - exploring Rocky Mountain National Park, enjoying red rock country in Moab, UT with friends with lots of hiking at Arches and Canyonlands National Parks, drinking in the beauty of Colorado and indulging in a sybaritic weekend at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. But today this road trip turned into something very different that has caused us to pause, think about and honor some important American heroes.

Tonight we had the opportunity of seeing some real American heroes. The Warrior Games - http://www.teamusa.org/warriorgames/ - are an annual celebration of the spirit, tenacity and grit of America's wounded warriors. The carnage of war is no respecter of gender, ethnicity, size, education or background and tonight we saw both the bitter results of our country's decade long wars but more importantly incredible triumphs over these personal tragedies. The US Olympic Training Center and the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs host these games to recognize the endurance of the human spirit and the determination of these men and women to overcome the unexpected in their lives.

I watched a young mother, with her months old son swaddled against her chest, lean over to kiss her wheel chair bound husband as he took a time out from competing for the wild Marine contingent in basketball. Her hand stayed on his shoulder and he reached up to kiss his young son. Why did he choose the Marines? Was it his ticket out of a life with few choices, or was he an Academy graduate? Either way, the IED or bullet that put him in a wheelchair brought him to a new place and unknown choices. Tonight he wasn't just a man playing competitive basketball but a hero. I sat behind a woman whose red T-shirt honored the twenty men in her son's Marine battalion who had been killed in 2008 and she was here to cheer on the survivors. A row of rowdy, active duty Marines pounded on the floor and benches cheering on their buddies, passing on the heat and excitement of top flight athletic competition.

The basketball being played on the court was rough, and when one of the blue clad Navy wounded warriors tumbled from his chair, he was quickly pulled back up by one of his red clad Marine opponents and then they were both off, locking wheels and fighting for the ball. No quarter was given, or sought, on the court, and men who had years of no look passes behind them, struggled to retrain muscle memory to learn the rim shot from the seat of a wheel chair.

At the sitting volleyball games, children with blue and white painted faces cheered on their Air Force dads. This is a family celebration, where moms and dads are cheered on by kids, parents, and loved ones...and where wounded warriors, some of whom are only beginning to find their way in an unexpected life, can feel the resurgence of pride...and the cheers of a crowd. A young, neatly dressed man gave up his bleacher seat for us, insisting that we sit, and when we went to thank him when we were leaving, we saw the passion and belief that these games bring to life. Turns out he is the aide to Air Force General William Shelton, who was there this evening in his fatigues, to cheer on his Air Force comrades. The young man talked about how much the Wounded Warrior Project, and the Warrior Games, has meant to the men and women in our armed forces and has helped them restart a new and difficult life.

The athletes were fully there in mind and body. It didn't seem to matter if a limb were missing when going for a spike at the volleyball net or if only one eye could focus on the free throw. Some of the wounds were obvious and others less so, ranging from traumatic brain injuries, PTSD, and internal injuries. For these athletes, what mattered was the here and now, not the what was before.

It doesn't matter whether your politics are blue or red...these wounded warriors belong to all of us. They chose, for myriad and complex reasons, to join the military, but they didn't chose to become wounded warriors. However, once here, their spirit, passion, and adaptability is playing out on new and unexpected battlegrounds of athletic competition. It gives you pause to see these men and women - and yes, there were two women on the volleyball teams - and realize that they are here because of our foreign entanglements over the past decade. Do they regret their choices - I don't know but I doubt it.

As someone who grew to adulthood during the Vietnam era, the one enduring but painful lesson learned for many of us was not to turn our backs on those who fight our wars. Tonight we had the opportunity to recognize and celebrate the tenacity, courage and brutal openness and inspiration of our wounded warriors and it is an experience we will never forget.

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Comments

[Liz Gibson]

Thanks
Anne Marie, thanks to you for the reminder to us to thank these others. A beautiful post. Liz