The 4th of July:).  It's only fitting that the day we show gratitude for being a free nation is the day I am compelled to remember a loving father who taught me to love America.  My earliest memories include fatigues, airplanes, my own dog tags, the PX, commissary, TDY, calling myself an Air Force brat:) and soooooooo much more:  

We were walking down the biggest hall I had ever seen.  I was in a blue dress and every foot step echoed.  The man behind the desk was asking me all kinds of questions, that I was sure he already new the answers to. When he asked me if I was married was when my 5 year old eyes, as big as saucers, looked up at dad searching for understanding as to why this man was seriously asking me this question.  Dad just looked at me with a huge grin and almost laughed and said, "it's ok just answer the question". Those are my memories of receiving my naturalization papers.  It was official,  I had documentation that I was an American citizen. 

I'll never forget two dark shadows in our living room in Commerce City, Colorado, holding each other and sobbing.  I'm not sure if it was really late at night when he told her, or if the mood was just so depressing that my memory made it dark.  We moved again, and I was only 7 when we walked him to the bus station and said goodbye for a whole year:(  I can still see mom wearing an apron, sobbing. I remember the gloomy feeling as I sobbed too.  The bus finally pulled away and the longest year of my young life began.  He was in Korea and we were in Nampa, Idaho.  It was a long year but there were happy memories made living by family.  I was having my 8th birthday party with lots of friends, presents and games, but I was mostly excited because we were waiting for dad to call any minute to say we could go to Mountain Home Air Force base and pick him up:).  That was the best birthday present I have ever recieved. 

We would be stationed next at the  Air Force base in Haun  Germany.  My only memory of living on an Air Force base, and where I learned what it meant to be an American.  When first arriving in Germany we lived on the economy, which meant we lived in a little german village.  Children our age shouted words at us that we didn't understand and threw things at us, I was afraid of them.  Our bus stop was across the street from theirs and not only did I worry about what they might do to me, on my way to the bus stop, there was also that huge Germany Shepard.  He would see us coming, eye us first, then start barking, then bark louder and meaner and then start slowly moving closer, then be running at us barking furiously until his chain ended and yanked him backwards.  As long as I hugged the rock wall of the shoe factory as I walked, he couldn't reach me, but what if that chain broke!  Going to the bus stop was traumatic everyday!  We were picked up by a huge greyhound type blue military bus.  We were taken to the base surrounded by tall wire fences topped with barbed wire, where most people were wearing uniforms and doing all kinds of saluting and stuff.  Living in a German apt was very different.  The kitchen was very small and everything looked so different than what we were used to.  The bathroom was a cold, scary room with just a pull chain toilet that was huge and looked like it could swallow me.  I remember liking the bedroom upstairs because the ceiling was slanted and things seemed miniature just for us kids.    One day dad bought a set of ski's and he taught us to ski on the steep logging road by our bus stop.  German children were skiing and sledding all around us, but when dad was there, there was nothing to fear:). 

When we moved to base housing we lived on the 4th floor of the huge apt building.  Dad enclosed the balcony with a wire fence so there was no chance of us kids falling.  There were two stairwells in each apt building and two apartments on each level.  That meant you could trick-or-treat 8 homes in record time, and 8 more if you could brave walking through the attic to get to the other stairwell, with only flashlights to show the way.  Jerry had assured me there were ghosts and every other kind of scary creature living up there.  There were tons of these apartments, and we came home with pillowcases full of candy every Halloween :). 

We still rode the big blue buses to school.  I remember waiting in the apartment for as long as I could before going out into the bitter cold to catch the bus, but being careful to get there in time because they didn't wait for anyone, military life was proper and prompt!  We went to school in a barracks that was converted to classrooms.  ( not sure what a barracks even is, but I think it was living quarters for the GI's:)( what's a GI:)?  .  The playground was a few swings and some merry go rounds and dirt surrounded by high chain link fences.    In the fall and spring when the weather was still nice we would get off the bus after school at the stops that were a little farther from our apt and see if we could get home faster than the bus.  This was done to try to get home before 4:00!  Twice a day the national anthem would play on loud speakers positioned all around base housing and on the base.  When the anthem played everything came to a complete halt, cars, buses and people.  It was like a giant game of freeze tag.  If you were outside you froze in your tracks, stared up at the closest American flag putting your hand on your heart at attention singing the words of the song in your head until the music stopped.  Nothing moved during this time except the flag, if it was moved upon by nature to perform to the music. It was a wonderful privilege and responsibility given to even the smallest child; a time when you felt patriotism as if it were something tangible running through your veins and over filling your heart and soul until it was leaking from your eyes and running down your cheeks!    ............  but sometimes you really needed to make it home to the bathroom before 4:00!!!!

  Haun was on top of a plateau and leaving the base to travel the world meant winding for hours, it seemed, down the mountain, passing oil trucks all along the way.  I'm sure I was car sick every single time:(.  Base housing was surrounded by a thick forest of skyscraper tall trees and thick undergrowth.  We tried to explore every inch of the forest and the next bush was the biggest and best fort of them all.  There were huge openings in the middle of every bush it seemed.  I was too much of a scaredy cat to go exploring by myself, so I was a burdensome tag along everywhere Jerry went, constantly asking him if he knew the way home.  He put up with me, I'm sure, so I didn't tattletale.  My favorite adventures were going to pick containers full of wild berries.  I remember acting and feeling like I was a character out of some fairy tale.  The last of the 3 years we were there rabid wolves were found in the forest and roaming base housing.  That was the end of all our great adventures:(. 

I have no memory of the sad news that dad wasn't going to retire after 20 years in the Air Force.  Our tour in Germany should have been his last, but our country needed him in Thailand for another year, but without us:(.  Dad got us settled in a small town close to my grandma. I must have blocked from my memory the day of his departure from my life for another year.  It was just before school started though, and I was the new kid once again:(.  My 6th grade teacher had also taught my mother when she was in school.  He was a kind older gentleman who drew way to much attention to me the first day of school.  Being shy and insecure I was mortified and honored all at the same time, as Mr. Smith told the whole class more about me than I knew myself:). Mom must have given him my whole life history when she was registering us for school.  He told the class that my father was in the military and I had been born in England and lived in Germany and on and on.  He made my life seem so glamorous and everyone was oohhing and aaaahing until he asked me who the queen of England was, as if I were an expert on English history just because I was born there and had recently visited her castle.  I had no idea,  and even if I knew I was so shy I would never have been able to speak with all those eyes on me.  When he finally answered for me in disappointment and turned his attention to other important information we needed to know the first day of school, I was humiliated:(.  I made a ton of friends that day inspite of it all.  Maybe they were relieved to find out I was a normal kid just like everyone else who didn't know who the queen of England was. 

Later that year my friends were getting all excited about some program someone started to get people to write to the soldiers serving in Vietnam.  I wrote to dad and thought he would be so proud of me supporting my country by writing to the soldiers.  I think it broke his heart to think I would write more to total strangers than to my wonderful father who had served his country since his mother signed for him to join the marines'at the age of 17.  It would be years before life didn't revolve around me and I could appreciate his example and the lessons and experiences his military life gave me.    I remember knowing he was coming home from Thailand soon.  He would meet mom in California then they would drive home together meeting us at grandmas house where we got to wait for them.  For weeks before his return I would have a hard time going to sleep at night worrying that something would happen and the plane would crash on his way home. That would be worse than having him gone for a year.  I remember telling Heavenly Father to keep Dad as long as it took to ensure he wasn't killed in an airplane crash coming home.  I don't know why I worried about that so much.  He was home safe and retired in 1969, and we became civilians like everyone else. 

July 4, 1977 was coming and I had an overwhelming need to be home.  20 years old now, I lived in Provo, utah.  I finally was able to take a bus to Twin Falls, Idaho and mom said she and grandma and Marcie would drive that far and come and get me.  We visited the falls but I couldn't enjoy the site seeing, I wanted to be home.  He was leaning on the washer and I was leaning on him with his arms wrapped around me just like old times.  I don't remember lots of conversation that night, but I do remember family prayer in the hallway before we went to bed.  It was perfect and he was soooo happy.  Marcie and I were camping in the backyard in the tent when I woke up as I heard him open the back door, and imagined him looking things over, before he left for work.  He had to fly a fish and game worker around so he could count deer or something.  I ignored the spirit prompting me to get up and go hug him goodbye, all three times.  It was a gloomy feeling that came over me when I heard the door shut and knew he was gone. 

That night after receiving the news of the crash and daddy was gone, I was sure the world had stopped spinning, but it hadn't, the city fireworks were as noisy, big and beautiful as ever that night, and every 4th of July for the past 37 years; to remind me that I am the daughter of a man who gave much of his life so America could be the land of the free and the home of the brave.