While my father was going to spy school at the Pentagon, we lived at Ft. Meyer, VA overlooking Arlington Cemetery. In fact, I could walk through Arlington Cemetery to get to my school. I was maybe 12 or 13. I can remember my mother standing at the window washing dishes crying uncontrollably as military funerals took place. The sounds of the horses hooves, followed by gunfire and taps could not be ignored, and it wasn't, at least not by my mother. I was a frequent visitor to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and grew up with a sense of loyalty and sadness for those who gave their lives for freedom. Much later, as an Army Viet Nam Era veteran, I lived the true meaning of Arlington Cemetery when I processed in our guys from Viet Nam at Aberdeen Proving Grounds. Although it was all over, I saw the sadness, and experienced the fearfulness of those who made it back to the World. As a woman, I never went to Nam, but it was something I could feel, and smell, and taste in the men who sat before me. Most people today have no idea what freedom costs, either to win it, or keep it. We juggle our priorities and morals and keep silent in the face of murder and death. This is not what our men fought for, and I think about them today, having fought to keep us free, and gladly gave their lives for an ideal we called the American dream. Since then, we also have men who died in Iraq and Afghanistan, and I remember them all. Thank you for your service, and sacrifice.