I don't do this often, but I wanted to tell you a non-stamping story. After lunch today we went into Iron Mountain to welcome the 46th MP Company home from Iraq. I doubt that you would see a story like this on a national newscast. But in small town America, families still line the roads along the route that the two bus-loads of our young men and women travel to get back to the National Guard Armory in Kingsford. (I so wish that I'd had my camera with me! I didn't, so my friend Hope sent me a picture that she took.)
First came the police cars with sirens, then firetrucks from counties all around. Next rode a 147-motorcycle escort, many with double riders. (Someone else counted them!) Finally came our troops. I think they were touched. I know that I was. It was all pretty blurry behind my sunglasses. . . We rejoiced with those who came home physically unharmed. We ached for those who had come home earlier and are going through months or even years of rehab due to injuries. And we cried for the family of Jim Priestap, our only local young husband, father, son, and brother who won't see his family again this side of Heaven. We thank them all. And we thank God for bringing them home.
