I believe in all Yuri posted around 30 times.
http://www.websleuths.com/forums/showthread.php?t=71041
Dick Tracy Orlando is his handle.
Thank you, now I remember. I was going through the thread and found this. I have thoroughly enjoyed some of the members here and in the absence of my own parents I have grown very fond of a few of them. One that I admire is Bond. Here is what he had to say about Yuri. I agree with him, this is a guy that gets up and goes to work each day dealing with the worst of the worst for VERY little pay and certainly no appreciation.And still, he fights the good fight. I thank you Mr. Hornsby for posting, but
I am standing with Yuri, not for being perfect, but for doing what he does to protect me, your average citizen. I think of LE much like the troops with much love and affection, they keep me safe at night and I am grateful. So here is the old post for your edification tonight:from one of my favorites, BondJamesBond
Quote:
"If you'll pardon a brief tangent to the topic...I'll bring it back around.
Mine is a small family. Last 3 generations were 1 or 2 children each. My maternal grandfather lived hundreds of miles away when I was a kid. That could've been the other side of the world as far as impacting a kid's life back then. Saw him once/5 years or so. Never really knew him before he died. Paternal grandfather died the year I was born. Dad died the year I graduated from college. Not whining here. I've been very blessed. Just kinda tellin' you that to tell you this...
When I was ~15 my Dad and I went to visit his only uncle. We were there to borrow some farm equipment. Only there for an hour or so to get things loaded up on a trailer. I'd never spent much time around this uncle (my great-uncle I guess), this hour was by far the most ever... but the man forever made an impression on me.
He was tall, probably 6' 2", and the very definition of, "barrel-chested". In his early-60's if I'd guessed. Hair was silvery-white. Imagine a John Wayne or Brian Keith kinda fella. Had a faded tattoo on his forearm...no idea what it was...simple...green ink was all I remember. Seemed to have a twinkle in his eye. Not a man of many words. Kind. Soft-spoken. Looked as strong as an ox though.
As we drove off in our '63 Chevy pick-up, pulling whatever behind us on a trailer, I mentioned to Dad that it was pretty cool just being around Uncle Brooks. I dunno what words I used. I'm sure I didn't say, "pretty cool", but, YKWIM.
Now, in a '63 Chevy pick-up there is no AC, and no radio. And on a 30-minute drive down twisting country highways you first, pay attention to the trailer your pulling, and when your not doing that...you squeeze in a little conversation. This is where & how almost every single man-to-man conversation I had w/ my father ever took place.
On this Saturday one fall, with the windows rolled down driving past the harvested corn & bean fields my father explained that Uncle Brooks was a retired marine. That his unit was a landing force @ Iwo Jima, and that many of his unit didn't survive. Said Uncle Brooks had seen things that he didn't really ever talk about. Never bragged about his experience, never boasted, and never hung his head 'bout it either. "Salt of the earth", he said - although I didn't know what that meant at the time - "a rock".
Now...I looked up to my Dad as much as any son ever has. And hearing my Dad express these things...well..it wasn't common-place. It was reserved for something special.
So...while this kinda impression wasn't just for men (tell you about my great-grandmother another time) it became for me the model of what it means to be a man. It wasn't so much the thinking...it was the feeling. In that moment I felt secure. I felt protected. I felt proud to be counted among them.
Lately, IRL or portrayed someway, I see men cast in a negative light. Either the butt-end of a joke, the perp of some malicious act, or in some other less-than admirable fashion. I...I have that memory of my Dad, my Uncle Brooks as a touchstone. I often wonder what becomes of the boys that don't have these experiences. In no way could I ever slight a mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, etc. imparting to boy what it means to be a man. I'm just relating my personal experience. I was blessed to have it.
...and to bring that back around to topic. I see Yuri M. and John A. in this same light. Giving us an example of what it means to be a man. To give us security in the face of things they'll surely never share with another soul.
"Salt of the earth" they are...for us, for me anyway..."a rock"."
Last edited by BondJamesBond; 06-15-2009 at 04:15 PM.
