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Some things turn out to be harder than you expect. For me, I like to go into things a little head strong and overly confident, then figure out I’m in over my head. Most times I like to think I figure it out and get the job done. Such was the case when Morgan Hill’s Eddie Bowers asked me to read the Honor Roll at the Veterans Day ceremony downtown just a few weeks ago. I couldn’t turn him down, as he has almost single handedly kept this tradition going. I’ll say that I was completely confident at the time that I would have no issues doing it.
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I felt that way up until about 20 minutes before the ceremony. As I watched the crowd grow and reviewed my lines, I felt a stirring of emotions that I wanted to quickly get away from. I’m not sure if I can say exactly what I was feeling, but it wasn’t the type of emotion that I wanted on public display. Yet I had committed, so I was going to see it through.
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The weekend before, I had flown to London to reunite with some friends from Pamplona, Spain. I noticed when I arrived that almost everyone was wearing a little paper and plastic poppy flower on their suit jackets. I asked a good friend of mine who was wearing one, Angus MacSwan, what the significance was behind the poppies. He explained the poppies were sold to raise funds for Veterans on Armistice Day, which in case you don’t know is the 11th of November. It is the date that ended the First World War and why we celebrate Veterans Day on that day. He went on how it is derived from a poem by John McCrae, called “In Flanders Fields.”
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Fast forward back to the ceremony, where I was wearing one of those paper poppies that Angus had generously bought me after our conversation. The memories of that conversation came forth in raw emotion. I guess you could say that the emotion I was feeling was a combination of pride and sorrow. Memories of those who had come and gone; and were unable to enjoy something special like our little ceremony.
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I was already tearing up when it came to my turn to speak. I thanked everyone for coming out that morning and stated that I would try to get through this. On the first paragraph my voice broke and I had to take some time to compose myself to keep speaking. Somehow I was able to get through the Honor Roll and thankfully back away from the microphone.
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After the ceremony, I rushed off to the Tavern with my father and another local Vietnam veteran, Terry Howell, to get a drink to calm my nerves from the emotional rollercoaster I had just put myself through. Terry and I got to talking and he complimented me on delivering the speech, saying he knew it was hard. He had done it, albeit 20-plus years after his time in service, and had gone through the same emotions as me when he did it.
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I’ll forever be proud that I got a chance to represent my generation to that crowd on that day, but I’m not rushing back to do it anytime soon.
Live Oak High alumnus Connor Quinn served as a U.S. Army medic in Afghanistan. He is currently a student at San Jose State University. He dedicates this column to the memory of his grandfather, William R. Subocz, a veteran of the Korean war who recently passed away.
