The 11th hour of the 11th month in 1918.  The world ended “The Great War”.  That was what the the first war fought across the globe.  The War to end all wars.  Right- which is why ‘The Great War’ was soon to be renamed World War I.   But, The Great War is the appellation my father learned, too- and it was among the last sanctioned battles in which my grandfather (my mother’s father) was a participant.

To me, the words of President Wilson still resonate…

” To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day [what Veteran’s Day was first called- and the name by which it is known outside the US] will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations.”

My grandfather was a veteran of that war.  Sol Kuchlik was never sure of the date (or day) of his birth.  Because they didn’t track that well- and because my grandfather was a man in a hurry.  (You think I might be related?)  He was born on Chanuka (that he remembered well) in Minsk, now part of Belarus, then part of the “Pale of Settlement” associated with Russia.

My grandpa was a strapping young man with bright red hair.  And, strong.  Willing to do anything to get out of the Pale- and get to the ‘Goldena Medina’  (the name many European Jews had applied to America, ‘The Golden State’).  Crossing Europe by himself.  Getting to America and fending for himself, never letting anyone know how old [read “young’] he really was.  (Yup, I learned that concept, too.)

I don’t even know how he met my grandmother.  But, I do know he fell for her in a big way before he was asked by his boss to help Black Jack Pershing in a new war.  (Rumor had it that all three of them had met decades before.) Thinking he might have been kind of old for the job, but strong enough and smart enough to perform the special task his boss had in mind.

Like many a soldier, my grandfather wrote to his “girl” back home.  I have some of those postcards somewhere.  I remember finding them after he died and realizing that there was yet another part of this man I did not know. But, I know they married soon after he returned to New York and stayed that way until they died.

Every once in a while, I could get him to talk about his exploits.  Most of which he kept inside.  His normal response was to immediately pepper me with arithmetic (or math, as I aged) questions.  Ones that demanded instantaneous responses.  He wanted me to use my brain- quickly, adeptly, and to do great things.

Here’s to you, Sol Kuchlik.  I miss you very much.

And, every other Veteran.  It’s your day.  You earned it.

Despite the fact that the Autocrat-In-Chief denigrates you at every turn. How he subverts your mission for his political gain.  (I still cannot fathom how 70 million people voted for the depraved, degenerate criminal.  This is not an exaggeration- think bank to his payoff of prostitutes, women he degraded, his tape recording- the Access Hollywood travesty.)  America honors you- despite the actions of TheDonald.

By the way, this moment, 11-11-18 at the 11th hour, was the exact birth date and time for one of my dedicated employees, who wanted to go the extra mile when my personal life was falling apart. A veteran of another war.  Here’s to you, as well, Harry Thornton!  

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