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The Toughest Guy I Know


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He grew up in Maysville, a little obscure river town off the banks of the Ohio River. He lived in poverty, with no electricity or running water. Almost all the food was brought into the house by himself and his siblings. He hunted, fished, scavenged and farmed to feed his brothers and little sister. He would never complain.

The clothing he wore was tattered and torn, dirty and smelly. It was handed down from his older brothers. He had no washing machine to clean his clothes for school, he took them to a creek bed and washed them with the same bar of soap he would use to bath with in the exact same creek. He would never be frustrated.

When he was 15 years old, a photograph would change his life. The photo was of the young man being executed by the NVA, yes the Vietnam War had begun. He enlisted at the age of 15, altering his birth certificate to do so. He saw his first combat at the age of 16. After reenlisting, he was promoted to Platoon Sargent at the age of 17. He would reenlist two more times, making sure he was there for his guys, before returning to the states. He would never abandon.

As he disembarked the plane, standing proud in his uniform, knowing that he had fought for his country, he was bombarded with obscenities. He was called a murder, rapist and a monster. Although confused, he would not lash out at those that seemingly hated him. He would not be intimidated

He wasn't afforded opportunities for work, instead he leaned on the self reliance that had seen him grow from a boy to a man. As he was pounding the pavement looking for a job, he met an older man, a combat veteran himself. The guy was the owner of a large printing company. This gentleman understood those things that words cannot describe, those things that would keep a person from falling asleep at night, those things that would cause him to flinch at loud noises, those things that would cause him to burst into tears at random. Although he didn't know a thing about printing, he confirmed that no one would out-work him, that he would learn the in's and out's of the industry. He was hired on the spot, an entry level position, but to him he might as well have been the new COO. He would never quit.

He would go on to marry and have a child, buy his dream house. He enjoyed the little things in life, chopping his own fire wood, cleaning his own fish, fixing his own car. He was self reliant, a trait that embodies him to this day.

My father, the best man I ever met.

I love you dad!

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He grew up in Maysville, a little obscure river town off the banks of the Ohio River. He lived in poverty, with no electricity or running water. Almost all the food was brought into the house by himself and his siblings. He hunted, fished, scavenged and farmed to feed his brothers and little sister. He would never complain.

The clothing he wore was tattered and torn, dirty and smelly. It was handed down from his older brothers. He had no washing machine to clean his clothes for school, he took them to a creek bed and washed them with the same bar of soap he would use to bath with in the exact same creek. He would never be frustrated.

When he was 15 years old, a photograph would change his life. The photo was of the young man being executed by the NVA, yes the Vietnam War had begun. He enlisted at the age of 15, altering his birth certificate to do so. He saw his first combat at the age of 16. After reenlisting, he was promoted to Platoon Sargent at the age of 17. He would reenlist two more times, making sure he was there for his guys, before returning to the states. He would never abandon.

As he disembarked the plane, standing proud in his uniform, knowing that he had fought for his country, he was bombarded with obscenities. He was called a murder, rapist and a monster. Although confused, he would not lash out at those that seemingly hated him. He would not be intimidated

He wasn't afforded opportunities for work, instead he leaned on the self reliance that had seen him grow from a boy to a man. As he was pounding the pavement looking for a job, he met an older man, a combat veteran himself. The guy was the owner of a large printing company. This gentleman understood those things that words cannot describe, those things that would keep a person from falling asleep at night, those things that would cause him to flinch at loud noises, those things that would cause him to burst into tears at random. Although he didn't know a thing about printing, he confirmed that no one would out-work him, that he would learn the in's and out's of the industry. He was hired on the spot, an entry level position, but to him he might as well have been the new COO. He would never quit.

He would go on to marry and have a child, buy his dream house. He enjoyed the little things in life, chopping his own fire wood, cleaning his own fish, fixing his own car. He was self reliant, a trait that embodies him to this day.

My father, the best man I ever met.

I love you dad!

Great story! Sounds familiar minus all the army service stuff. ^_^

you should tell him instead of making this lame tribute on a Football message board. Just my opinion

tumblr_lmtbzimaGK1qcgzgv.gif

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And you should kill yourself. You are a true P.O.S.

There is no doubt in my mind that no one will ever come close to writing words like this about such a ******* waste of carbon as you.

I couldn't bring myself to hit the 'like' button, Gritz, because that's a pretty rough sentiment. 'Like' just didn't feel right.

But I agree.

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It shouldn't be "liked" by anyone......but it is what it is. I understand the sport some trolls sickly enjoy in their daily blathering, but this tool takes it over the line too often. He's just about the only poster on here I would truly enjoy hitting in his stupid pie hole.

I liked it for you Gritz :D Not everyone is lucky enough to have a great Dad in their life. You sounds as if you have a great Dad dirtydealing.

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Guest Deisel

He grew up in Maysville, a little obscure river town off the banks of the Ohio River. He lived in poverty, with no electricity or running water. Almost all the food was brought into the house by himself and his siblings. He hunted, fished, scavenged and farmed to feed his brothers and little sister. He would never complain.

The clothing he wore was tattered and torn, dirty and smelly. It was handed down from his older brothers. He had no washing machine to clean his clothes for school, he took them to a creek bed and washed them with the same bar of soap he would use to bath with in the exact same creek. He would never be frustrated.

When he was 15 years old, a photograph would change his life. The photo was of the young man being executed by the NVA, yes the Vietnam War had begun. He enlisted at the age of 15, altering his birth certificate to do so. He saw his first combat at the age of 16. After reenlisting, he was promoted to Platoon Sargent at the age of 17. He would reenlist two more times, making sure he was there for his guys, before returning to the states. He would never abandon.

As he disembarked the plane, standing proud in his uniform, knowing that he had fought for his country, he was bombarded with obscenities. He was called a murder, rapist and a monster. Although confused, he would not lash out at those that seemingly hated him. He would not be intimidated

He wasn't afforded opportunities for work, instead he leaned on the self reliance that had seen him grow from a boy to a man. As he was pounding the pavement looking for a job, he met an older man, a combat veteran himself. The guy was the owner of a large printing company. This gentleman understood those things that words cannot describe, those things that would keep a person from falling asleep at night, those things that would cause him to flinch at loud noises, those things that would cause him to burst into tears at random. Although he didn't know a thing about printing, he confirmed that no one would out-work him, that he would learn the in's and out's of the industry. He was hired on the spot, an entry level position, but to him he might as well have been the new COO. He would never quit.

He would go on to marry and have a child, buy his dream house. He enjoyed the little things in life, chopping his own fire wood, cleaning his own fish, fixing his own car. He was self reliant, a trait that embodies him to this day.

My father, the best man I ever met.

I love you dad!

Fantastic story.

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