Monday, March 15, 2010

The Price of Freedom


Since September 11, 2001, I have lowered the flag in my front yard on numerous occasions to honor the sacrifice of a soldier, sailor, marine, or airman who had recently paid the utmost price for my freedom. In each instance I have said a prayer for the family of the departed hero as my flag lowered to honor their sacrifice. During the official period of mourning, the sight of my half-masted flag was a quiet and eloquent reminder of the fact that "Freedom Isn't Free".

On Friday night I went out to my flagpole and, once again, lowered my flag to half mast. But the prayer I offered that night was for my own family this time. Earlier that day my cousin, SFC Glen Jacob Whetten, joined the ranks of those who have given the last full measure of devotion for their country.

The flag in my front yard flies at half mast, and I see Jake now every time I pass it. When the official word gets out and flags across the state lower to half mast, I will see Jake. And I will cry. I am more intimately acquainted with the price of my freedom now. The Hall of Heroes is no longer a nameless, faceless group of men and women from ages past. It now has the name and face of someone I know and love, someone I looked up to and prayed for.

SFC Glen Jacob Whetten, United States Army
March 19, 1978 - March 12, 2010
Operation Enduring Freedom

3 comments:

Tawna said...

Thank you, Paul!

johnsonteammom said...

My heart goes out to my extended family wherever they are. I didn't know him, but to carry the name Whetten, I know is a grand thing. Peace to you. Stacy Whetten Johnson

Armed US Citizen said...

Paul, this was wonderful and I appreciate it so much. We have both expressed our patriotism and our love for that supreme price so many have paid to allow us to live in such a wonderful and blessed land. It does hit so much closer to home, the Hall of Heroes holds my brother now. And he believed to his very core in how great his duty was. He inspired my awe and how sweet it was to talk of freedom and it's price with him. I take some peace from the fact he died doing what he loved. But that only masks the hurt and pain of losing a brother.

My brother died for MY freedom and for the freedoms so many take for granted or seem so willing to trade away. I will not let them make a mockery of the sacrifice he made.

Thanks again primo for the nice words!

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