I attended elementary school during the 1960s. Because I was so young, the Vietnam War was somewhat abstract, though a constant presence in the nightly news and in the classroom. I can’t tell you how many personal letters and crayon-colored pages we (kids) sent to the troops in hopes of buoying their spirits. I don’t know what organization coordinated this, but it seemed our handmade packages along with cookies went out a couple of times each school year for several years. I’m certain the same thing was happening at schools all over the United States in those days.

As I got a little older and the conflict dragged on into the ’70s I became certain I would be drafted. Poor people like me weren’t lucky when it came to the draft lottery. So I decided if the draft was still in play when I became old enough I would volunteer to join the US Navy. My dad served in the Navy during World War II and that just seemed right. He and four of his brothers served in that war as did my mom’s four brothers. It would have been anathema in my family to even consider dodging the draft should it come to that.

But as it turned out, the draft ended in 1973. Lottery numbers were still drawn for young men born as late as 1956, but no one was called up. I was born in 1959. Knowing how close I came gave me even more reason to respect and honor the brave Americans who went to Vietnam, and especially those who didn’t come home. I thought about them often and still do. It’s good we have a day to honor those veterans even though the occasion has turned mostly into a giant retail sale.

Take a moment to thank a veteran today. I’d give anything to thank my dad again.