The Veteran.

You see a strange assortment of people if you keep you're eyes open. In a downtown metropolitan area there can be a lawyer in a three piece suit right next to the goth, dressed all in black with chains hanging from every loop on their clothing. A little while later, the secretary running across the street, trying to beat the light spills her coffee all over the ground, but she keeps going so she can get to the office on time. The street musician sitting on a corner with an old dented saxophone, filling the morning air with music straight from his soul. And then, alone, unnoticed among the trash in alley sits one man. And that man, is the man with a story like no other.



It was in the summer of '53. He took his first breath. A few months down the line, he was walking. His first birthday came around in the summer of '54. His mother smiled with joy as her son toddles toward her. His dad beams with pride as he thinks about it seems like just yesterday he met that little boy. Fast forward a few years. It's the middle of fall. The leaves have all changed color and are dropping of the trees. It's 1963. He's ten years old, and hears the new that JFK was killed. It shocks him, but plants a seed of determination in his heart that will drive him to serve his country. 1968. Springs come around. He'll be fifteen in the summer. And sitting with his friends in a mom&pop shop, he hears over the radio that Martin Luther King Jr. is dead. Once again, that patriotic seed in him begins to move. He wants to speak out against the injustice in the world. He want's to make a difference. A few years go by and it's the summer of '71. He's 18. His mom's crying. Her little boy is all grown up. His father is still beaming with joy. His son has grown into a handsome young man with strong morals and pride for his country. Two days later, his mom is in hysterics. Her baby boy has enlisted. Soon he's in training. Months go by, and he is broken physically and mentally. The training is taking it's toll on him. Then it's over. He gets a few days reprieve. He goes home, tells his parent's he loves them. Kisses his high school sweet heart goodbye, wondering if he'll ever see her again. And then he boards a plane, and is shipped off to Vietnam.

Writing home every week he tells his parent's only the few good thing's he sees. He never mentions the terror. The sleepless nights in the jungle. He writes to his girl, telling her in every way he knew that he loves her. Then one day, she stops writing back. His company gets orders to move. Advance on enemy territory. He sees his companions get cut down right beside him. His skin gets seared as the whole jungle goes up in flames. As he loses consciousness a medic helicopter touches down next to him. Waking up in the hospital, he learns he lost his right hand and part of his foot. Shortly after he gets a letter saying that his father had died of a heart attack. Relieved of active duty, he returns home, only to find something that doesn't resemble home anymore. The white picket fence is gone. The house is in shambles. His mother is in the hospital with tuberculosis. Soon after, she passed away also. His GI bill doesn't cover enough to support him. It can barely keep clothes on his back and food in his stomach. He's forced into tenement housing. One night he starts coughing up blood and he gets rushed to the hospital. They tell him he's developed cancer from exposure to Agent Orange. He's given six months to live.

Now it's 2009. That man is homeless. Sitting on the side of the road each day, a cardboard box for shelter, a tattered jacket all the warmth he has. As the world rushes past him in three piece suits and luxury cars, he thinks back on all he's seen in his life. He still loves his country. He wonders how he survived so long with the doctors said he had such little time. He never regrets what he had to give for it. He still has all the letters his family and sweetheart sent him in the military. He keeps them in a handmade wooden box, tucked under his arm. He also has a picture of his parent's on their wedding day. They both look so young, so happy. The picture of his highschool girl is worn from being looked at so often. Tears creep into the corner of his eyes as he wonders whatever happened to her. He hopes and prays to God that she's happy, wherever she is. And he continues to sit there. Alone. Unnoticed. Around the corner from his alley the sound of a saxophone cries out into the night sky. Cars speed past. The sun set's. And the world keep's turning.