Someone to Sit in the Foxhole: A Grandfather’s Speech That Changed Everything

tiles. He’d begged me not to be embarrassing.

I stood there in my best blazer, the one that smells like mothballs no matter how many times I dry clean it. I had a stack of index cards in my shaking hand. Prepared remarks about discipline, patriotism, and the post office pension plan.

I looked at their faces. Blank. Bored. Lonely.

That’s the thing nobody continue reading …