JOSEPH CRISPINO

It was a cold January day in 1953. Class was let out for lunch at Our Lady Of Lourdes School in Brooklyn New York, as two friends named Joe went to their respective homes for lunch. We talked as two little grade school children would, and split off.

Joseph Crispino was a gifted storyteller, and a good kid. He was also very proud that his Dad was in the army, away in some gosh awful land called Korea. He told of the souvenirs his dad had left him from the army, where he had been stationed, and hoping to see his dad soon.

Mom knew Joseph, she used to call him “A storyteller”, but he always won your heart with his gift. He was an ordinary looking kid, a bit round, no movie star looks, but a lot of appeal. We could play for hours, in an abandoned lot on Somers Street around the corner from my Grandmother’s house on Fulton Street.

When I had finished lunch, it was getting late, and Joseph was supposed to call on me then we would continue onto school for the afternoon session. I waited, and Mom finally told me to go call on him. Off I went down Hull Street, crossed Rockaway Avenue to the other side of Hull Street.

I reached Joseph’s apartment and climbed his stoop, entered his vestibule and rang his doorbell from the bank of mailboxes. His floor was the second one, and the door swung open.

“Joe, are you coming to school? It’s getting late!

I could hear sobbing, a great deal from within Joseph’s apartment. Joseph stepped out, standing at the landing, looking down at me, tears streaming down his face, dressed in a long army coat, too big for him.

“I can’t,” he sobbed. “My Dad was killed in combat.” Was all he said, as he turned and went back into his apartment, quietly closing the door behind himself. It was the last time I ever saw Joseph.

His Dad had made the ultimate sacrifice. In the line of duty for his country, your country and mine. His blood lies deep within the Korean soil, fighting for the freedom of South Korea, a Korea where they now dislike us, until they are invaded again. His blood deposited in the defense of his buddies, as they all fought for survival in those bitter cold winters of -20 degrees Fahrenheit. His blood is a barrier for all of us here in the US, as he gave it to safeguard our freedoms, and help defeat communism.

Because Joey grew up without his Dad, never sharing a ballgame or an ice cream soda, a laugh or even a good meal, we are now free to blame everything on this country that goes wrong in the world. We are free to criticize the brave men and women who are giving their lives and time on this earth, away from their families, to protect us from terrorism.

We are now free to coddle the enemy, make sure we give them all their rights, and even facilitate their ability to destroy us in our office buildings, and create more Joseph Crispino’s.

I for one am ashamed that this occurs. I love this country, and will always love those that sacrifice daily, and those that led the way in the ultimate sacrifice.

God bless America. God bless Joseph Crispino.
You have read my rants toward the newspapers and TV reporting, now read this, sent to me from my good buddy Jan at PCH. I think it is worthwhile.

WHY WASN'T THIS FRONT PAGE NEWS ????

Navy Petty Officer Mike Monsoor

PO2 (EOD2) (Explosive Ordnance Disposal)
Mike Monsoor, a Navy EOD Technician, was
awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor
posthumously for jumping on a grenade in Iraq,
giving his life to save his fellow Seals.
(Notice: Mike was not a Navy SEAL, he was EOD.
He gave his life to save a group of Navy SEALS.)

During Mike Monsoor's funeral in San Diego,
as his coffin was being moved from the hearse
to the grave site at Ft. Rosecrans National
Cemetery, SEAL's were lined up on both sides
of the pallbearers route forming a column of two's,
with the coffin moving up the center. As Mike's
coffin passed, each SEAL, having removed his
gold Trident from his uniform, slapped it down
embedding the Trident in the wooden coffin.

The slaps were audible from across the cemetery; by the time the coffin arrived grave side, it looked as though it had a gold inlay from all the Tridents pinned to it.

This was a fitting send-off for a warrior hero..

This should be front-page news instead of the crap we see every day.
Since the media won't make this news,
I choose to make it news by forwarding it.

I am very proud of our military. If you are proud too, please pass this on. If not then rest assured that these fine men and women of our military will continue to serve and protect.

God Bless our Troops

Please remember MMB (My Man Bill), my brother in law John, and all those that need our hopes and prayers, especially the men and women on the front lines.