His name was Jack. I'm guessing it was over 15 years ago that I first had the privilege to meet him. We got off to a rocky start, but Jack, a former marine and a bit rough around the edges, was a good man. And he had a heart of gold.
I didn't get to know Jack well until the last year or two, when he had recurrent pain due to all the mileage he'd put on his spine over the years. There was the Marine Corps, but before that, there was college basketball. Jack played for the Colorado Buffaloes. And from what I'm told, he was pretty good!
Jack passed away a few weeks ago due to complications from a surgery that had been done to fix something in his spine I couldn't fix. His passing was sudden and unexpected. I'd never been to a Marine's funeral before. Jack's was held on Election Day. It was unforgettable.
It was the way the Marine Corp detail handled our Nation's Flag ... that's when I lost it. They slowly, carefully, as if handling the most precious thing the world, unfolded the flag. While holding it horizontally open as if to present the Stars and Stripes and their fallen soldier to God and God alone -- taps was played. (That's when I ran out of Kleenex.) Then, just as carefully as the flag had been unfolded, it was re-folded. Then holding it at attention, one soldier saluted the flag in absolutely silence, in slow motion. The flag was carefully passed to the other Marine, who repeated this supreme act of honor. Then the flag was presented to the family with these words:
"On behalf of the President of the United States, and the United States Marine Corp, I'd like to thank you for your father's faithful service to his country." I couldn't swallow.
Rarely, if ever, do we get an opportunity to see what makes up the heart of a true patriot. Only in death did I get a chance to catch a glimpse of the sacrifice and service that Jack had made for my freedom, and yours. He never spoke about it. But on Election Day this year I really was proud to be an American. And I was glad to have had the privilege to be friends with Jack Froistad. I'll miss him.
