My Dad at Place de la Concorde, Paris

On Memorial Day we honor soldiers who did not return from war. But I saw this quotation today (by Ronald Reagan, posted by Al Franken) : "They gave up two lives. The one they were living and the one they would have lived. When they died, they gave up their chance to be husbands and fathers and grandfathers. . .".  This made me think of my father, who did come back from World War II. It makes me think about everything he was risking. But unlike many others, he did go on to be a father and grandfather.  My own life, my own family, resulted from that fact. So today I am posting this picture of my dad in Paris. The image began with a small snapshot in a wallet-sized album that my dad carried during the war. This album was among my father's photos, sent to me last year by my cousin Rori. In it are snapshots of my mom and my father's brothers and sisters, along with his military ID and his military discharge card. Today I transferred the snapshot into the computer, where I cropped it, cleaned it up, and added some color with Painter.  Nothing was written on the back of the snapshot, but as I worked, I used a search engine to try to learn more. I searched for an obelisk in Paris and found the matching image at Place de la Concorde.  It took me longer to identify the balustrade, but the photo matches Pont de la Concorde, connecting the Palais Bourbon with Place de La Concorde. So I was able to figure out where he was.  And when? This picture must have been taken after the liberation.  The nearby Hotel de Crillon had been occupied by the Nazis, but he's not worrying about nearby Nazis in this photo. The Place de La Concorde was the cite of a victory parade for the liberation of Paris, though, as I learned, although the Nazis had abandoned Paris when liberation was celebrated, some active snipers were still around. Maybe that's why my dad is wearing a helmet.  In any case, he seems relaxed in the photo, maybe relieved that the worst was over, maybe thinking about going home. I have said before that my father was a peaceful man.  He told me himself that he had been afraid during the war.  He had married my mother shortly before shipping out to Europe. He had a wife waiting and a life to get back to. But he did his bit to fight the Nazis. I owe it to him to follow his example and stand up to tyranny and prejudice whenever I can.  We owe it to all those who lost their lives to remember not to take our freedom, our democracy, or our lives for granted.