The Great Gray Squirrel Debate of 1969

In 1969 State Representative R. C. Godwin appointed me to serve as a page in the NC House of Representative. Mr. Godwin was a friend of my father's. When he retired he encouraged my dad to run for his seat. My father won and held that seat for many terms. Upon Dad's reitrement Beverly Perdue served in that seat for a couple of terms before moving on to higher office.

I served as a page for a week and stayed with my father's first cousin, Elsie Barker Houle. Elsie's mother was my grandmother's first cousin and her father was my great uncle Ebbie Basil Barker. Apparently Barker men were attracted to Henderson women. Elsie was a family favorite. She was a classic southern lady with a underlying current of mystique. Sort of a Julia Sugarbaker (Dixie Carter) type.

Upon arrival the Sergeant of Arms and the Clerk of the House gave us our orientation. Our duties included distributing copies of legislation, delivering messages, running errands and delivering proposed bills from the legislators to the Speaker's desk. When the House is in session we were stationed around the chamber to be instantly available to the members.

The General Assembly from time to time decides to designate a plant, animal, activity or concept as the State "whatever". (See Chapter 145 of the General Satatute for a complete list.  http//www.ncga.state.nc.us/gascripts/Statutes/StatutesTOC.pl?Chapter=0145) We have a State song, flower,dance bird and many other things. My father was instrumental in making the State Reptile the Eastern Box Turtle. He was fond of saying the turtle had to stick his neck out to make progress.

During my tenure as a page the members decided it was time to have a state mammal. I guess the rat was out even though Secretary of State Thad Eure was fond of saying he was the oldest rat in the Democratic Barn. A member stood and introduced legislation to make the gray squirrel the State mammal. That member and several cosigners gave great speeches in favor of the measure. Eloquent speeches of the virtue and beauty of the gray squirrel were given. Their playfullnes and industriousness of storing their food were espoused. It looked as though the legislation would pass unopposed.

The Dean of the House sat in seat six.That seat is on the front row on the center isle. If the House had been a Baptist Church that would have been where the Chairman of the Deacon Board sat. In 1969 I was quite young and that gentleman looked really old. I was sure he had been serving since Reconstruction. While not quite that old, he was born in the nineteenth century. All of the members gave him deference and proper respect. He was a Southern lawyer with great communication skills. He was sort of a Senator Sam Ervin type of character. I am certain they were friends.

He stood, and said "Mr Speaker, I rise to oppose this legislation". A hush fell over the floor and the gentleman commanded everyone's attention. He continued, "If we pass this legislation in time groups may form to protect the gray squirrel and to prohibit the lawful taking of the same by hunters. Should that come to pass the population of the gray squirrel will multiply exponentially. Everyone knows that the gray squirrel eats nuts and that would prove very dangerous to this body". With that he immediately sat and the members of the General Assembly almost fell out of their chairs. That is the only debate from that week that I remember.

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Fall Full of Southern Traditions

It is a special time of year. High school ball on Friday nights. See my my Blog Post about Friday Nights with Burke Taylor. Then tail gating on Saturday and watching college football. Many spend hours getting ready for hunting season. Blinds and stands to be built or repaired. Scouting for game trails and looking for birds. Fall fishing provides many hours of fun and excitement for its disciples. 


Of course some take an annual pilgrimage to the NC mountains to witness God's handiwork as the colors of fall reach their peak. It is a time to be thankful to our maker as we move toward Thanksgiving and Christmas. Fall Festivals and Bon Fires bring folks together. Who doesn't enjoy a good pig pickin'?


One of my personal favorites are partaken in months with the letter "R" in them. I am talking about an old fashion Oyster Roast. Johnathan Swift is quoted as having said, "He was a bold man that first ate an oyster". The brave among us slip over to the side and open them raw. We let it slide off the half shell right into a waiting orifice. Sounds of appreciation and exclamations of saltiness follow. I always wondered why folks just don't add salt if the oysters are not salty enough. The oyster opening table is a great area for fellowship. The congregation stands patiently waiting for the roaster to dump a basket of steaming hot bivalves. Hands work with skill and speed. It is amazing to see how quickly a half bushel can disappear.  Conversation resumes and the waiting for the next batch begins. Soon the usual sophomoric jokes about the  aphrodisiac qualities begin. There is always an individual who is especially skilled with an oyster knife who will open oysters for those disciples who gather around his station. It is considered bad form not to shuck a few for your spouse. Your dipping sauce recipe is always a topic of conversation. Some opt for melted butter, some cocktail sauce and blends of both with dashes of Texas Pete and Horse Radish. When you hold your roast this year please use the contact info on this page to invite me. I will shuck a few for you.


Those of us who were born Southern by the Grace of God and those who have become Southern by the purchase of Real Estate are truly blessed. Fall is a wonderful time of year and I encourage you to enjoy the culture of a southern fall. 


If you need lessons on southern speech, culture or need to become southern by purchasing real estate I am available.


Please consider leaving a comment of about your favorite Fall tradition.


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11 22 and 9 11 Numbers Not to be Forgotten

Dates I will always remember. On November 22, 1963 I was returning from recess at Fort Totten to our classroom at Eleanor Marshall School when a distraught lady pulled her car to the curb. Our teacher went to her car to check on her. When she returned she explained that the President had been shot. We were living in a fearful time. We had drills to practice diving under our desk in case of nuclear attacks. The news was full of riots and demonstrations about issues that we were perhaps too young to understand. Multiple leaders were assassinated. Our society went through very dynamic changes. Eventually as time progressed things seem to improve.

Fast forward to September 11, 2001. While having my morning coffee a report came across the screen that one of the Towers at the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane. I left home to go to the Tent River Coffee Company to join the discussion at the table where all of the worlds woes were solved. Soon after my arrival the second Tower was struck. We watched and listened as it became apparent that our country was under attack. Rage, fear and confusion were experienced that day. The country's psyche would never be quite the same. I had not been born when Pearl Harbor was attacked but I imagine the feelings were much the same.

America will not forget the heroes of that day. People who ran toward the flames and destruction to protect others. Since that time two million young Americans have seen combat to make us safer and to improve the lives of those living under oppressive regimes. The America in which I live is still a wonderful place to live and I will always be grateful to those who have made it possible.

Gary Barker
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Our Three Guys - Signers of the Declaration.

Joseph Hewes represented North Carolina at the Continental Congress of 1774. He was living at Edenton at the time. At the beginning of the year 1776, Hewes was appointed as the first ever Secretary of the Navy John Adams often said that Hewes "laid the foundation, the cornerstone of the American Navy." Alongside General George Washington, Hewes became one of the greatest military achievers in American history. He was also involved with the secret committee of claims, which further promoted the independence of the colonies. Hewes was one of the primary reasons why North Carolina  submitted to independence before any other colony. Hewes was initially faced with an ill equipped navy of which to fight the British Navy. To remedy this, he provided his own extensive fleet of ships, outfitted them, and chose the most capable of men to captain these ships. John Paul Jones was one of these captains for whom Hewes was instrumental in providing a command. (Used by Permission Wikipedia)

John Penn was a signer of the United States Declaration of Independence and the Articles of Confederation as a representative of North Carolina. Penn was distantly related to William Penn, founder of Pennsylvania. Penn was elected to the North Carolina Provincial Congress and elected by that body to the Continental Congress in 1775 until 1780. For the 1776 signing of the Declaration of Independence, he was part of a three-man North Carolina delegation that included Joseph Hewes and William Hooper. He also served on the Board of War until 1780, when he retired to the practice of law.  (Used by Permission Wikipedia)

William Hooper was an American lawyer, politician, and a member of the Continental Congress representing North Carolina from 1774 through 1777. Hooper was also a signer of the United States Declaration of Independence, along with fellow North Carolinians Joseph Hewes and John Penn. Initially Hooper supported the British colonial government in North Carolina. As Deputy Attorney General in 1768 Hooper worked with Colonial Governor William Tryon to suppress a rebellious group known as the Regulators who participated in the War of the Regulation. The Regulators had been operating in North Carolina for some time, and in 1770 it was reported that the group dragged Hooper through the streets in Hillsborough during a riot. Hooper advised that Governor Tryon use as much force as was necessary to stamp out the rebels, and even accompanied the troops at the Battle of Alamance.Hooper’s support of the colonial governments began to erode, causing problems for him due to his past support of Governor Tryon. Hooper had been labeled a Loyalist, and therefore he was not immediately accepted by Patriots. Hooper eventually was elected to the North Carolina General Assembly in 1773, where he became an opponent to colonial attempts to pass laws that would regulate the provincial courts. This in turn helped to sour his reputation among Loyalists. Hooper recognized that independence was likely to occur, and mentioned this in a letter to his friend James Iredell, saying that the colonies were “striding fast to independence, and ere long will build an empire upon the ruins of Great Britain.” During his time in the assembly Hooper slowly became a supporter of the American Revolution and independence. After the governor disbanded the assembly, Hooper helped to organize a new colonial assembly. Hooper was also appointed to the Committee of Correspondence and Inquiry. In 1774 Hooper was appointed a delegate to the First Continental Congress, where he served on numerous committees. Hooper was again elected to the Second Continental Congress, but much of his time was split between the congress and work in North Carolina, where he was assisting in forming a new government. Due to matters in dealing with this new government in North Carolina, Hooper missed the vote approving the Declaration of Independence on the Fourth of July, 1776; however, he arrived in time to sign it on August 2, 1776. (Used by permission Wikipedia)

All of the signers were men of courage risking all of their goods, lands and lives. During this time of celebration of their act, it is right that we should remember. 

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An Old Friend - The Jet

For 37 years we had a view of the F -11 Tiger Jet as we traveled Dr. M L King Jr. Blvd. It was painted as a Marine Aircraft in those years. If you traveled from the mall area to downtown it was there to remind you of the close ties between New Bern and the Marines stationed at Cherry Point.

Photo by Nan Griffin Barker

Recently Swiss Bear and the community had the jet restored and painted in Blue Angels colors. The jet served as the Solo plane on that team's 1966-67 season. Now when I travel from my home in Bridgeton to New Bern, I will see the Tiger fully restored on a pedestal at Lawson Creek Park. It will be a constant reminder of the affection and appreciation New Bernians have for members of our Armed Services.

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Thanks to All - Tryon Palace Survives

Democracy can work. When the NC budget crisis threatened to close Tryon Palace and the NC History Center  the citizens of the area and state went into action.

The Palace Restoration has been an engine for tourism that has created a demand for retirement properties in our area. The efforts of the community leaders for the last 40 years created a town superior to other small towns in the region. All of that progress would have been jeopardized if the proposed budget had passed unchanged.

The community went to work to influence the General Assembly. Mr. Bob Mattocks, members of the Tryon Palace Commission, Commissioner Tyson, Rep. Sanderson, and Sen. Preston all worked tirelessly. Swiss Bear, the Chamber and the Downtown Merchants collected petitions. Tom Ballance and others made trips to Raleigh to continue the lobbying efforts.

We extend our thanks to all of the above. Their efforts led to hundreds of our citizens responding with letters, emails, phone calls and posting on various social network sites. The Legislators responded to an outpouring of public support.

The Tryon Palace Commission will have a tough task to realign their efforts within the budget provided. Some of it will be painful but I am confident they can continue to provide the educational experience to our citizens and visitors. I am sure that we will be less likely to take for granted this tremendous cultural resource in the future.

Thanks to all who participated in this cause.

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Getting Paddled - The First Day of School

One of my most vivid memories occurred on the first day of the eighth grade. I remember thinking we had finally arrived. As an eighth grader in a grades one through eight school we were going to be kings for the entire year. The fall of 1967 certainly had promise. Those hollowed halls were at the time one of the oldest continually used public school facilities in America. My grand mother and father had attended school at this location. Now we were the kings, the masters of our domain. It is good to be king.

The opening bell sounded, we took our seats. The intercom speaker crackled and Mr. Hardison's voice welcomed us to school. He then called my name and five of my running buddies and summoned us to the office. I thought of naming the names but have decided against it. I wouldn't want to undermine any of my friends authority in their present positions by having them too closely tied to my escapades. When we inquired to the purpose of our summons we were informed he intended to exact corporal punishment upon our persons. He observed the horrified and quizzical expressions on our faces. He then told us that we had not yet committed any infractions. He went on to state that ours was a preemptive paddling. It was his opinion that most of the trouble in River City  the previous year had been caused by the group assembled. He wanted to set the proper tone for the year. So much for being King.

I have told this story many times. I have found that people born after 1970 just do not understand the world in which the "Baby Boomers" lived. I often hear I would have told my parents. The parents of that day did not give their children a presumption of innocence. I never once considered going home to tell the Admiral that the Principle had paddled me for being the center of all that was wrong at the school for the preceding year. He would have investigated. I did not want the principle and my Dad having any conversation. A second paddling would have been certain along with long periods of confinement.

A good paddling was an act of grace. You misbehaved, were caught, felt guilty and then were punished. Once the paddling was completed you were completely restored. No further ramification or guilt was required. I would like to tell you I was a model student after that day. I can't. The teacher / student ratio in that day was about 1 to 30. The teachers managed quite well. Mrs. Ipock said that she liked to practice her tennis forehand by paddling her students. From my experience she must have gone undefeated that year.

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Swimming with the Mullets

You hear of people swimming with the dolphins. You have to travel to exotic places and pay the porpoise's trainers big bucks to commune with the aquatic mammals. I found an economic substitute right here in Craven County.

We live in a townhouse on the Neuse and our POA pool has not been opened yet. We are still waiting for the Health Department to inspect and let us open. I really wanted to swim and didn't feel like driving to the Y. So I decided to hit the river. At the Y you have to  swim a lot of laps to swim any distance. In the river I swam one lap. A quarter of mile out and a quarter of a mile back. On the return trip I swam through a school of mullets. I actually hit one with my right hand. As I was swimming they were jumping around me. So if you feel the need to swim with water bound animals just go jump in the river.

My lap pool

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North Carolina folks are the best.

I went to photograph a clients home yesterday. When I got there I found they had moved another family into their home. A mother and two young children had their home damaged by the tornado. Both families' fathers are deployed defending our nation. My client wants to sell and always has her home immaculate. You would think she would avoid the hassle of having two extra kids and one adult in her home. There was no hesitation. She did what she could to help out her neighbor.

This morning I read the Sun Journal article about Trader Construction. I went to work for Trader 41 years ago this June. It was a great place to work. I spent my school vacations during high school and college digging foundations, pouring concrete, hanging steel and driving dump trucks. It was a great education while I was pursuing a degree in Civil Engineering. The folks working there always seemed like family. They took care of their own. This week the company jumped in with men and equipment to help a nearby neighborhood. They responded to a call from County Commissioner Steve Tyson. Steve was out in the field accessing the damage and had plans to raise money to help the neighborhood. He called Trader for an estimate and the estimate turned into a donation.

Many of our community regularly help those trying to recover from disasters. Teams have gone to Louisiana, Mississippi and Haiti. We have great neighbors. I love North Carolina folks.

My First Senior Class Party (The Citadel)

One of the first time knobs (freshman) got to leave The Citadel campus was for our first Senior Class Party. The senior classes have traditionally thrown off campus parties on Saturday after the formal balls held Friday nights. Southern debutantes flock to Charleston for the Homecoming, Ring Hop, Parents Day and other formal dances that were held on Fridays. Saturday the party would move off campus to a location with less discipline. In my day our favorite location was the Folly Beach Pier. The name fit.

The Senior Class always threw a great party. Attendance was highly encouraged. Ticket sales funded the event. We had some really great bands. Most parties had two. Typically there would be a rock band and a beach band. They would play alternating sets. We had many bands that went on to great success such as The Showmen (predecessor of the Chairmen of the Board) and Sha Na Na. Bowser stole the beer I laid on the front of the stage. I must have been holding it for a friend.

We got to leave campus so that we could attend. The Commandant even allowed curfew to be an hour later. Freshman and Sophomores had to be in an hour before the upper class men. An additional unofficial privilege allowed was that we could wear civvies at the party. I went stag. There had not been an opportunity to explore the area for the local girls. One of my classmates from  the Charleston area had his car parked off campus which several us planned to use to get to Folly Beach. Once we arrived we changed into our civilian party clothes and joined the frivolity.

We enjoyed our brief freedom with enthusiasm. Typically these parties were BYOC. (Bring your own cooler). When the time to leave approached somehow my classmates had disappeared. Getting a ride would not be a problem but my missing uniform was a crisis. I sought out my squad sergeant whom I affectionately called Mr. Matthews for advice.

He was a junior and was allowed to return to campus wearing what we called a blazer uniform. It consisted of a blue blazer, white shirt, Citadel tie and grey pants. He also had the uniform in which he left campus which he offered for my use.Wearing a sergeant uniform to return to campus didn't seem to be a great idea but it was vastly superior to trying to return to the barracks in civilian clothes.

I had my ride drop me off behind the Padgett-Thomas Barracks. Mr. Matthews was a smaller man than I. His pants were two inches short and lacked three inches closing in the front. His dress blouse lacked more than four inches in the chest and the sleeves were short. His hat looked comical sitting on the back of my head. I was a sight with junior and sergeant stripes on my sleeve. My only hope of survival was to develop the swagger of a junior. The juniors and seniors would not return for another hour. My hope was to pull off one great bluff. I planned to stroll in the front gate and walk across the quadrangle. I hoped I would look like a slightly disheveled junior returning a little early. Freshman year you run while bracing within the open areas of the barracks. You don't earn the right to walk on the quadrangle until second semester of your sophomore year. If I could fool the corporal of the guard and the other sophomores hanging around the galleries I might just make it to my room and live.

As I turned the corner to walk to the front sally port I saw an Air Force Major approaching. I rendered a very proper hand salute and kept walking. Then I heard that terrifying word, "halt". He returned and looked me over with a very stern expression gracing his face. Then he smiled and asked me if I was a knob. I answered affirmatively. Knobs have a haircut that makes you resemble a door knob and thus the name. I was so glad this alumni officer was a spiritual man. He said, "May God have mercy on your soul. Carry on."

As I passed by the Corporal of the Guard I gave him a grunt to acknowledge his existence. He had questions in his eyes but lacked the courage to question an upperclassman. I cocked Matthew's cap further back on my head, opened the blouse further, and shoved my hands in the pockets. With a blend of swagger and a fained element of stagger I began my trip across the quadrangle. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a row of sophomores lining the rail of the H Company third floor balcony.

They didn't recognize this strolling junior and walked down to the stairwell and caught me when I reached the third floor. They had figured that a junior after partying a little strong had returned to the wrong barracks. I heard, "Barker" and a string of other comments deleted by the author. The committee of sophomore's were unsure of what to do with me. Finally one made a comment relating to my anatomy and sent me to my room. The crisis was over but the Class of 75 always held me in a slightly higher regard.

Gary Barker is a member of the Class of 1976
The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina

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When Gerald Ford Visited The Citadel

I was sitting in the snack bar of Mark Clark Hall having one of those fabulous chocolate shakes with a couple of classmates when we noticed some suits. Knowing that the Vice President was soon to visit, it was easy to identify Secret Service agents. They were the advance team and had just arrived. As true Americans their first stop was for a cheeseburger in a building named for a true American.

I decided to engage them in a conversation. Eventually they asked where the weapons on campus were stored. I told them that the personal weapons of cadets and the pistols of the Pistol Team were held in the armory maintained by the US Army ROTC unit. You could just tell that they were thinking that it would be easy to control that situation by a lock down. Then with perfect timing I delivered the punch line that each cadet had a M-14 in his room. Trying to remain cool they tried not to react but you see them tense. Then I revealed that the firing pins had been removed. The agents relaxed. I just could not leave it alone. I explained that an inserted 16p nail would make an M-14 fire at least once. I had no idea if it would work or if the nail would fit where the pin had been removed but it sounded good. Their radar went back up.

Going back to the barracks I was enjoying the thought that we would have to turn in our rifles and we would get to parade without them. Cadets love mischief and I thought I had disrupted our world. To further entertain myself I told my fellow cadets that the Secret Service was prepared to shoot you if you made a strange move while you passed in review. For the uninitiated that is the point in the parade where you would be very close to the Vice President holding a rifle. I was still certain that our rifles would be collected.

The joke was on me. The rifles remained in our room gun racks. Several weeks later, the day of the parade arrived. Everyone was excited, we had heard a rumor that some College of Charleston girls were going to streak at the parade in front of the VPOTUS. We were hoping that we would be incensed. (Ray Steven's song lyrics) The company first sergeant inspected each rifle. I had to believe he was looking for nails. I started in on my fellow cadets telling them they would be shot if they tripped or mishandled their rifle when they were close to Vice President Ford. I was having a ball right up to the point when I saw the sniper on the roof of the Padgett-Thomas Barracks.

Gary Barker is an alumni member of the Citadel class of 1976. You can follow him on Facebook or visit his Website.

Friday nights with Burke Taylor

In the 1960s New Bern High School athletes did not have a better friend than Mr. Burke Taylor. Mr. Taylor was an automobile dealer in New Bern early in that industry's history. He originally sold Oldsmobiles and Cadillacs. The story, as I was told was he received a medical diagnosis that his time was limited. He sold his business to Mr. Don Deichman. He continued to live and decided to sell Dodges which he did for many years. However he did continue to drive Cadillacs. He was a classic southern gentleman. He wore a  Stetson Rancher style felt hat. The type that has a narrower brim. He smoked great cigars. He helped young people when they wanted to start a business when banks wouldn't. You could see folks stopping by his office to seek advice and make payments for personal loans.

Mr. Taylor was a dear friend to my grandfather. As a physician my grandfather always wanted to have dependable transportation. He made house calls. So the family story goes he bought a new car each year. I guess buying dozens of cars will endear you to an auto dealer. My father retired from the military and moved back home when his father was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Papa passed away after we had been home less than eighteen months. Mr. Taylor became a father figure, mentor and best friend for my Dad. When my Dad entered politics, Mr. Taylor always served as his campaign manager.

For years and years Mr. Taylor was the biggest booster for New Bern Athletics. When trophies were passed out to the athletes Mr. Taylor had paid for them. If the school had a need I am sure he got a call. He was so appreciated by the school that during home football games he had a parking space inside the fence just behind the end zone. His influence was so great that the athletic director would arrange the same privilege at away games. He would invite my dad to go to all the New Bern games with him. We would pile into his huge Cadillac. Dad and Mr. Taylor would be in the front. My sister, myself and Mr. Taylor's grandaughter Juliet would be in the back. Usually the away game trips would include a stop at Wilbur's or King's for good old NC style bar-b-que. Good friends, good food and a great ball game, what could be better?

He was a great mentor for my father. Mentors can be such a blessing. Unfortunately time seems to remove them from your life. Often times you don't appreciate what you have until they are gone. I wish I could ride in the backseat of a big 1966 Cadillac and listen to Mr. Taylor and my Dad one more time.

Don't fly a dead bear!

I hang out with a bunch of guys who know how to properly display a flag. We have a Master Gunnery Sergeant, Master Chief Petty Officer, a couple of Sergent Majors, and a Chief Master Sergeant. If you display "Old Glory" improperly you will definitely hear about it. Any one of those guys are likely to pull out a "Flag Manual" out of his back pocket. Some of these guys have flown on Marine One or served as crew chief on Fat Albert with the Blue Angels.  You can't find a more patriotic group.

I am not sure that anyone has taken that zeal and applied to our City flags. I am not sure there is a manual for the red, yellow and black. My wife dislikes the display when the Bear is lying on his back. I think it shows the Bear in distress. I told her that I would blog about it if she would take some photos. I hope others will join our crusade to keep our Bear climbing upward and onward. Please forward this blog to folks that have pride in our City.

Proper Display

Dead Bear Display

Proper Bear on a Banner

Fly the Bear. Keep him travelling upward and onward. Please no dead Bears.

The First Social Network

Breaker...Breaker...One Nine....Hey Cheese ya got your ears on?

Such as that could be heard heard on the CB radios in old cars cruising through Trent Woods on a summer night. We didn't have cell phones, laptops or Facebook but we had a Social Network. We would jump in the car and fire up a CB radio.

I realized while writing this whole generations reading blogs and using Facebook have never used a CB radio. Most wouldn't even know about CBs if they hadn't seen a rerun of the "Dukes of Hazard". We were networking a couple of years before the beginning of filming of "Moonrunners".(1973) The film was the inspiration for the TV show. The stock car in the movie was named Traveler. (R. E. Lee's Horse) In the show the car was the General Lee. I always thought they must have been watching us to get the ideas for the show. We were up to mischief and trying to outwit Trent Wood's Roscoe P Coltrane.

People developed their own vocabulary to communicate their thoughts via the airwaves. So it is not surprising that we have new words and acronyms that are used on Facebook and in Text messages. So I am LMAO remembering my old "handle" the River Rat.

My Favorite Super Bowl Moment

I joined my friends in the lounge at our local Elk's Lodge to watch the game. We had a great assortment of game food. Our lodge is made up of locals and retirees. Quite often a majority of those present are vets. We have an unusual number of guys that have served the US Military and reached the highest enlisted ranks.

I often wonder what is going to be the highlight of the night. A multimillion dollar commercial or an extraordinary athletic feat. My greatest moment came early. During the National Anthem the screen showed a group of our troops standing at attention in a tent in Afghanistan.

As I write this I am having trouble seeing the screen. The thought of our troops standing during a televised National Anthem in a tent in a war zone has had a profound effect on me. When the image above flashed on the big screens at the game the crowd erupted. This was my favorite moment.

Much has been made of our nation's "greatest generation". My father was a member of that group being a decorated veteran of WWII and Korea. That group truly saved the world from a looming darkness.The guys that responded to the threats of WWII had a clear vision of what was at risk and believed that our nations survival was at risk. We had been attacked.  I am very appreciative of the groups that served in the Korean and Viet Nam wars. During the Korean and Viet Nam conflicts many young Americans were drafted. Their service was no less heroic.

Our current group of service men and women are all volunteers. They have chosen to serve when the threat to the homeland is more difficult to discern. In my business of selling real estate I have been privileged to serve many of these young people. I have been stunned by their sacrifices. Many have served multiple combat tours. Considering that we have been sending our young people to the Middle East since Desert Shield in 1990. Afghanistan saw our troops arrive in 2001. We invaded Iraq the second time in 2003. Our young people still pull tours in Japan, Korea and Germany. I have concluded that the current generation is "One Great Generation"

Their standing at attention for a televised National Anthem preceding the Super Bowl is an image that will stay with me. Their deep display of patriotism has become my favorite Superbowl memory of all time.