©Scott Sines
My dad had a very clear vision of what it meant to be a patriot. Like a lot of people my age, I started becoming politically active in the late 60’s and early 70’s. My friend Rex Johnson and I joined the debate team and we argued against the war. A wonderful teacher named Mrs. Potter was our debate coach and taught us how to research.
My father and two of his brothers were veterans. My activism was not well-received in the family and my uncles were not shy about letting me know. Family arguments boiled over and one night I overheard an uncle ask my Dad how he would feel if I was one of those bearded beatniks on the evening news protesting the war. He said he didn’t agree with my views but he said he would be proud of me for thinking for myself. Everything changed for me after that. When the Kent State massacre happened he got really upset.
He said that he didn’t fight that awful war to see our military turn guns on our own people. The lasting lesson, probably the most important thing he ever taught me was that we don’t know if we have rights unless we use them.
