In supporting their uniformed relative, army families embody the utmost contribution and commitment to their fellow countrymen.
The Job and the Yuletide joy
Being a police officer usually means that you and doctors are the only people that get introduced at parties by their occupation. "Hi, this is Mark, he's a doctor..." “Hi, this is Simon, he’s a cop… Better behave!”
Pretty in Projects
Im sure we are all familiar with the hit T.V shows from the 90’s that showcased the sumptuous homes of our favorite celebrities. millions of viewers would sit around watching and gaping at the fabulous furnishings and amenities that our influencers spent millions of dollars and wish they could live like that, even if only momentarily. I was one of those viewers.
Blue polyester glistens in the sun as I find myself back at the table, hard at work on another project. A light sea breeze whips my hair as a draw a thin, white line across the bottom of the garment. Carefully, I measure the distance, making sure the line is straight and accurate. I look off into the distance for a minute and soak in the cool, dry breath of sky that surrounds me. But the moment passes and out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimmer of something shiny and metal on the table next to me: a pair of gold shears calling my name. I slip my fingers into the grooves of the handle and open them slightly, positioning them along the line I mapped out only a moment ago. I guide the blade from one end of the line to the other, slicing the fabric as I go. And as I open and close and open and close the long, sharp tip, a familiar sound enters my ears like a metronome, keeping the time: Schick, schick, schick, schick.
My Country is at War
Hi, I’m Sana. I'm a 10-years-old Syrian girl and I’m alone. They dragged me away from my parents to bring me here, in a refugee camp, to take me away from war and conflict. Even if they are only fighting in neighbouring countries, they are close, too close. War, with a capital "W", is surrounding us, it’s never far away. My big brother was recruited to fight in this endless war, he was only 13. It's been two years since we last saw him. He is probably dead by now, like many other children I knew. Death is surrounding us, it affects everyone. Whether it's our loved ones, our friends, our acquaintances or even total strangers to us. A lot of people are dying, not to say the whole world is slowly dying, even me. War kills us, it kills everyone, even strangers who didn't have time to become known.
“Why is she the one doing this? She isn’t even wearing a proper uniform!” The Girl Scout mother didn’t care that Megan and I were near enough to hear her snarky comments.
Pop Tarts, Jergen’s Lotion and Young Ladies of Fine Breeding
I was a military brat. My dad was in the Air Force, and we lived all over the U.S. and the Europe. We lived in the UK, Montana, Florida, Germany, Texas, and New Mexico. At my dad’s last station, we were at Holloman AFB in New Mexico. As my parents knew it was my dad’s last tour before he was going to retire, they bought a little house and planned on staying there permanently.
Advice for Military Families Searching for a New Home
You've dedicated your life to your country as a member of the armed forces. The time has come to find a home of your own where you can enjoy the rewards of your service with your family. Whether you are on active duty or you have transitioned into civilian life, take the following advice for military families on the quest for their dream home.
“48, 49, 50. Ready or not, here I come!” My dad shouted as he made his way toward me. “Now, where is my little girl?” He lifted the blanket I was under and flicked it off; a grin on his face.
My Private Life
So where were we? ah yes, 1982 South Central Los Angeles. Like I said in part 1, my dad Moose was prideful to an extent, he insisted I go to private school. So I did , from kindergarten until ninth grade, I was a good old "Catholic School Kid." I won't mention the name.
My Private Life
Preface Dedicated to Stephanie,
Antonio Alago Acevedo
By Roberto Alago My Father was a Master Mechanic and responsible for the creation of many tools, while he was working for the US Air Force. He served in the civil service from 1945 - 1971. He wasn't always a Mechanic; he started out as a Shoe Shine Boy, a Store Clerk and a Carpenter. When Ramey Airfield began construction in 1936, he became a Contractor Carpenter.
I am a very weary soldier. We have been through hell and back these last two interminable years fighting for king and country. Now the war is over, and we are slowly making our way back home. I cannot help but think of a couple of stanzas of the song Going Home.