Appomattox Insights: Veterans Day with Grandpop

I'd missed a few years of Grandpop's Veterans Day rides. Those years when I was all self-assured that whatever I had to do was the most important thing. I'm sorry I missed those years. I'm happy Grandpop waited for me to come to my senses. I'm not sure when he started his daylong treks to the highest point on the ranch, but as long as I could remember, each Veterans Day he saddled up and rode to the knob of Rattle Tree Mountain. The view there, among trees misshapen by fierce winter winds of the altitude, went on as far as the eye could reach. And was worth every minute of the three-hour ride to get there.

Everyone was welcome to ride along, and some years, back when I was young, we had quite the caravan of friends, relatives and sometimes strangers. For a few years, after the local newspaper wrote a story about it, folks pitched in a few dollars each to be part of it. Grandpop always gave the money to the local VFW.

We rode pretty much in silence today. Three days ago Grandpop had gotten word that his friend Buck Clayton had passed on. They'd served in Africa together, part of what became known as the Battle of the Bulge. I remembered meeting Buck a few times. Once he even joined Grandpop on his Veterans Day ride. I missed that one. "He was a fine man, loved his family, God and country," Grandpop said when he got the news about Buck. "Stood strong to defend them all." He and Grandpop had been together for three of the four years, "over there," as he puts it.

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