Exhibit A006
Gather a chair, take a sit down, and perk your ears. I'm gonna tell you about how it was, back then.
Fred grew up in a family of four boys in a suburb of Baltimore. His family never had much, and he never was told that he could be anything he wanted to be. On the contrary, he dropped 8th grade because his family depended on his paycheck. He worked with his hands, making things, fixing things, learning how they worked. He would find crystals by the railroad tracks and fashion radios out of them with some wire and headphones. He worked hard, because he had to. He didn't quit on himself.
Barb came from a family a little better off. She spent her days with her family in a clean neighborhood miles away from the city. Her childhood was spent with good times and family. She learned charity and love from her mother, and values and morals from her father. She was a lucky girl who got through high school, made many life-long friends, and learned to type.
The two met, and married, and the Korean War started drafting young men into service. Fred's number came up, and he shipped off to basic. He gained a reputation quickly, and moved up through the ranks. He was a strong, confident leader, who earned the trust of his men and the favor of his superiors. When he shipped out, he was placed into an engineering division. He stayed there for nearly an entire tour of duty, when he suddenly fell into a catatonic state for unclear reasons. He was airlifted out, treated until he came around, and was sent home. All the while, Barb wrote letters and kept up hope. She was faithful, and he was brave.
The two settled down and started a family. First two boys, then a little girl, and finally another boy came along. They raised them in the style of their parents, a fifties ideology in a seventies world. They were taught the same values: to do your best, no matter who's watching; to stick to your values because they are all you've got; give respect first, earn it second; a man's word is his most valuable possession, don't abuse it; life isn't fair, but it's more fair when you work hard; judgment is a tool of the weak minded; etc....
Fred, a man with an 8th grade education, had nonetheless taught himself to learn. By the time he settled down, he was working for Westinghouse as a project manager for military missile defense systems. He owned a farm house and a few livestock way out in the country. He learned and taught EMT training, and volunteered for the local ambulance.
Barb was raising a family so close knit, it would take over 25 years for any of her children to move more than 10 miles away. Regular gatherings, lots of grandchildren, holiday traditions, and frequent contact have passed her family values down. She cooks, she cleans, she organizes, she volunteers. She will never get old, even to the day she dies.
Last month these two celebrated their 50th anniversary, and I was there. I was there because these two are my grandparents. They are my inspiration, and it is my most prominent goal to make them proud. I do service because they have shown me its value. I work hard because that is what my grandfather taught me to do. I stay calm and focused because my grandfather taught me to lead by example. My grandmother made sure I understood other people, and that I had compassion.
When I go away, when I'm homesick, it's not for my parent's house. It's for sitting around the table at my grandparent's farm, chatting about family and friends, warm, full, and comfortable.
If you ever want to see me lose control, go ahead and threaten them. I don't mind prison so much.
Fred grew up in a family of four boys in a suburb of Baltimore. His family never had much, and he never was told that he could be anything he wanted to be. On the contrary, he dropped 8th grade because his family depended on his paycheck. He worked with his hands, making things, fixing things, learning how they worked. He would find crystals by the railroad tracks and fashion radios out of them with some wire and headphones. He worked hard, because he had to. He didn't quit on himself.
Barb came from a family a little better off. She spent her days with her family in a clean neighborhood miles away from the city. Her childhood was spent with good times and family. She learned charity and love from her mother, and values and morals from her father. She was a lucky girl who got through high school, made many life-long friends, and learned to type.
The two met, and married, and the Korean War started drafting young men into service. Fred's number came up, and he shipped off to basic. He gained a reputation quickly, and moved up through the ranks. He was a strong, confident leader, who earned the trust of his men and the favor of his superiors. When he shipped out, he was placed into an engineering division. He stayed there for nearly an entire tour of duty, when he suddenly fell into a catatonic state for unclear reasons. He was airlifted out, treated until he came around, and was sent home. All the while, Barb wrote letters and kept up hope. She was faithful, and he was brave.
The two settled down and started a family. First two boys, then a little girl, and finally another boy came along. They raised them in the style of their parents, a fifties ideology in a seventies world. They were taught the same values: to do your best, no matter who's watching; to stick to your values because they are all you've got; give respect first, earn it second; a man's word is his most valuable possession, don't abuse it; life isn't fair, but it's more fair when you work hard; judgment is a tool of the weak minded; etc....
Fred, a man with an 8th grade education, had nonetheless taught himself to learn. By the time he settled down, he was working for Westinghouse as a project manager for military missile defense systems. He owned a farm house and a few livestock way out in the country. He learned and taught EMT training, and volunteered for the local ambulance.
Barb was raising a family so close knit, it would take over 25 years for any of her children to move more than 10 miles away. Regular gatherings, lots of grandchildren, holiday traditions, and frequent contact have passed her family values down. She cooks, she cleans, she organizes, she volunteers. She will never get old, even to the day she dies.
Last month these two celebrated their 50th anniversary, and I was there. I was there because these two are my grandparents. They are my inspiration, and it is my most prominent goal to make them proud. I do service because they have shown me its value. I work hard because that is what my grandfather taught me to do. I stay calm and focused because my grandfather taught me to lead by example. My grandmother made sure I understood other people, and that I had compassion.
When I go away, when I'm homesick, it's not for my parent's house. It's for sitting around the table at my grandparent's farm, chatting about family and friends, warm, full, and comfortable.
If you ever want to see me lose control, go ahead and threaten them. I don't mind prison so much.