11/11/11: A Special Day

I think it's kind of cool that the date is 11/11/11. But that's not what makes this day special, is it? After all, it's Veteran's Day.

I've always been a bit of a free spirit. My father called me his "flower child." It wasn't until I looked back at my life in the shadow of the force of nature that raised me that I fully realized how it must have pained him to have a daughter who spouted off about making love, not war ... who wore halter tops and sandals ... who flashed the peace sign.



My father was a retired officer of the United States Marine Corps. He fought in two wars, and had served for 20 years before he finally retired to civilian life. He regularly flew the American flag in front of our Cincinnati home where two ceremonial swords hung crossed over the fireplace and countless medals graced wooden frames on the wall.

As it usually happens with wayward teens intent on thinking for themselves, I accidentally learned a thing or two from living under the roof of "Officer Dad," as I liked to call him. I learned that the life of a soldier is not easy, and that there are great sacrifices -- not only for the soldier, but for the people who love him or her -- and those sacrifices are made because of an innate and indefinable respect and honor for America that goes all the way to the core. Or "to the Corps," as Officer Dad would say.

A few years after his death, I went to the theater to see a movie called A Few Good Men. I'd known Demi Moore back when she was married to a guy named Freddy and played a reporter named Jackie Templeton on General Hospital where I worked after moving to Los Angeles. I stayed in touch with her a little when she left the show and when she went on to St. Elmo's Fire fame and became engaged to Emilio Estevez. And I've followed her career ever since, so I was excited to see her big movie break with Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson.

What I didn't expect was my reaction to Demi's character telling why she loved her Marine Corps clients so much. "Because they stand on a wall," she stated. "They say, 'Nothing's going to hurt you tonight. Not on my watch.'" And this former flower child who, for a time, rebelled against nearly everything her amazing father stood for ... burst into nearly-inconsolable tears.

My father had passed away by the time A Few Good Men hit theaters. But that afternoon, the revelation hit me like lightning out of a Scarlet and Gold sky. Those folks who, like my father, "bleed scarlet and gold," who sacrifice everything in order to stand on that wall ... they live it every moment of their lives. They're Marines (and Army and Air Force and Navy) TO THE CORPS. As an officer, my father believed in standing on the wall. But as my dad, he stood on a wall, too. He said, "Nothing's going to hurt you, flower child. Not on my watch."

So today, this patriotic-by-default child of Chief Warrant Officer-retired Robert D. Bricker salutes his memory ... and salutes the men and women who continued his fight. I feel a little like that picture of a young John-John Kennedy saluting his father's coffin as I do it, all awkward and childlike. But it seems appropriate just the same.

My dad taught me the meaning of the words Semper Fi. They mean ALWAYS FAITHFUL. And he was. And so are the men and women who followed him. Gratitude overwhelms me.

"He is my loving God and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield, in whom I take refuge." --Psalm 144:2