I hope the guy that posted this on another site don't mind me putting this on.
I asked but he was offline. I think it needs to be said and remembered since tomorrow it will be over and people will go about thier business. If he gets upset I will for sure apologize. I was in the Army from 64-67 my Brother ended up dying from agent orange so here it goes.

Memorial Day.jpg


Before you light your grill, or break out that new bag of briquettes. Before the children break out the new beach balls and the wife dawns that new sexy swim suit she bought earlier this week,....stop, and think.

There are heros among us,...they walk like ghosts, blending within our inner circles of daily life. They are young, and they are aged both in the same body, jaded bones walking still in cadence with the banners of war and the memories thereof. I've been fortunate and of the utmost, privilaged, to know one of them for ten wonderful years of my little life.
This is a passing glance into a man, and hero's life, well worth the time to have been given me,....

A man at the age of 85 walks himself early in the morning into his Barbershop opened up before the war, closed during his time in the Pacific atolls, and re-opened after his return from his heroism and the gut wrenching fights for our freedoms.
He flips the light on with his nimble wrinkled finger, turns to look out the front window at the daylight's greeting and passing friends hurrying to and from their errands and work. His name is Frank Selemno, Barber,...friend, brother, adopted grandfather, and hero. In a place where twelve dollars can buy you a trip back in time, a story or two and a slap on the back, telling you within its impact, "welcome, we're all friends here, only the best for you, luck, love, good health and good wealth to you!" The scissors trim away the wear of your body, and the straight razor cuts off the miles of labor and burdensom toil from your soul. Talk surrounds, sun shines and beams through the window with the right glow to warm your sitting place, and the sent of Bay Rum fills your senses and messages your neck.


His eyes themselves alone, could tell stories, gazing upon the flag raising on Iwo Jima Isle, the sands of Tinian, the fighting of Siapan, and the horrors of five days lost at sea with a stray landing craft. The five days most fearful of a time he's ever had to endure that even stamped out the uncertainty of the next round whizzing by him, the next mortar fired from behind a fortified cluster of palm trees at the next battle. No, those to were tasks at hand to be dealt with when they came, endured with a blind fury, and, Lord willing, survived. But five days within the clutches of an unknown fate, swirling and riding to and fro encompassed by a seemingly never ending void of nothingness the sea held in front of he and his friends upon that landing craft, well, that was the true gut wrenching experience!

He'll spend his day today, like the other two here within these four walls, and three barber's chairs, on his feet, like the three soldiers by his side, of porcalain and leather, trimmed with nickel and tin. One of them will be rest for each of us that will find their way to this humble abode, turned refuge for those seeking a harbor to find a better time to live in, a better way to live by, and a true friend and kindred soul to reminisce with. An old soul, such as I, and Frank get along just fine, like were were both children once playing with toys and enlisting to go and fight the Japs back then.

We get along famously,....just swell I'd say.

That is,...the hero and I.


If you're in town, in the Chestnut Hill section of Philadelphia, look up Frank at Frank's Barbershop, right on Germantown, Ave. in Chestnutt Hill. It will be worth your time. Tell him Jason from Quakertown sent you, then ask him to tell you a story of WWII or the good old days. He'll probably laugh a bit about it frst,....
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Remember history for our future!

I copied this from another site
Richard