Like most, I get misty thinking about my personal connection to this somber holiday.
My grandfather (dad's dad) Samuel John Crute, was killed in action in North Umberland, England during WWI. None of us know much about him as my dad was only three years old. A small framed photo of the toddler was recovered from the pocket of his uniform which I believe my brother, Samuel Reid Crute still has today.
My favorite uncle (ma's brother) Albert M. Salisbury was a veteran off WWII and the Korean War.
It wasn't until after his passing a couple of years ago that his wife, my Aunt Ruth, informed me that he had been one of the first American liberators on the scene at Auschwitz. He never spoke of it and refused to discuss it - even with her. Imagine my pensive contemplation for never having a clue and the life impressions of what he likely witnessed.
Both of my brothers served in the military: the aforementioned Samuel Reid Crute and Richard Allen Crute.
“True bravery is shown by performing without witness what one might be capable of doing before all the world” - François de la Rochefoucauld