We love living on our cul de sac which is in so many ways a reflection of what America represents. To the right of us are a retired couple who emigrated from Guyana whose parents were from India. He was a preacher here in the city and she worked for the Department of Education as an analyst. To the immediate left of us are Sara and Pedro, also retired. Pedro is originally from Mexico City, emigrated to Miami where he played jai alai, and worked for a large computer company. Sara, who grew up in Florida, taught high school. Two houses to their left are James and Aretha. Aretha runs an African American foundation and James, one of the hardest working stay-at-home dads that I know, maintains their house better than anyone in our neighborhood. Just to the immediate left of Sara and Pedro is Luther's house.
In early November, I was awakened in the middle of the night by an ambulance that was parked in front of Luther's house. He passed away the next day. A week later I attended his funeral at the National Cemetary just outside of the city.
Luther was the first person to greet us when we moved into our Tallahassee home four years ago. At that time, he was 89 years old, and he walked around our cul de sac several times each day, sometimes with a walker, sometimes with his canes, and sometimes on his own. He was always trying to “stay fit” as he would say. His caregiver was with him much of the time but occasionally he would venture out and walk by himself. He loved to talk and tell stories and laugh. He laughed mostly at himself. He often laughed at his declining health and his inability to do simple things. I will miss his laugh.
I had many wonderful conversations with him on our cul de sac the past four years. He loved to talk about his family members and would describe in detail what they were doing with their lives. He was so proud of them. His wife of more than 50 years was originally from Vietnam. She had passed away a few years ago. He was curious about my family, and I would tell him what each of my four children were doing each time we met on the cul de sac. Family was the focus of almost every conversation we had. Luther often said that family was the most important thing in life, and I agree completely. I will miss our conversations about family.
He rarely talked about himself; he was very humble. I did find out that Luther had served in the US Army in Vietnam. Like most Vietnam vets that I know, he didn’t talk about what happened while he was “in country” and I didn't ask.
It wasn’t until the funeral that I saw a picture of Luther as a vibrant, young man, dressed in his uniform, so very handsome and strong. I learned that he had served 30 years in the US Army and had retired as a Colonel. He was a Green Beret. He had served literally all over the world including Germany, Lebanon, South Korea, Vietnam, Laos, and Thailand. He had received many medals over his career, perhaps the most important, the Silver Star while he was in Vietnam.
I didn’t personally know anyone at Luther’s tearful funeral that day except all the families from our cul de sac. I knew what many of his family members were doing with their lives and I knew Luther loved them. People enter our lives at many different times during this life journey. I believe many of them are put there for a reason if we take time to listen and look. Luther was one who entered my life for a brief time. I only knew him through our conversations. But I had to be at his funeral to say goodbye to this humble, family man who was a true American hero. I will miss him and our talks on our cul de sac.
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