My husband, Richard, rarely spoke about his experiences in Vietnam. The only thing he ever mentioned was being shot by a sniper. But one of his most treasured possessions was a grainy black-and-white 8x10 inch photograph he took at a USO show. Ann-Margret is in the foreground, with Bob Hope just behind her.
A few years ago, Ann-Margret had a book signing scheduled at a local bookstore. Richard wanted to get that special photograph signed, so he arrived at noon for the 7:30 p.m. event. When he joined him after work, the line had already wrapped around the bookstore, around the parking lot, and stretched all the way to the back of a nearby garage.
Before Ann-Margret appeared, the bookseller informed her that only books would be signed, and no photos or other items were allowed. Richard was disappointed, but still wanted to show her the photos and tell her how much the USO show meant to lonely soldiers far from home.
As Ann-Margret appeared, looking as beautiful as ever, Richard, who was second in line, took his seat at the table. He handed her the book for signing and quietly took out a photograph. Immediately, a staff member informed him that the book could not be signed.
"I know," Richard said. "I just wanted to show her."
When she saw the photograph, tears welled up in her eyes.
"This is one of my gentlemen from Vietnam," she said. "I always sign his photo. I know what they have done for their country, so I always make time for gentlemen."
Then she embraced Richard and gave him a strong kiss. She spoke warmly about the bravery of the young men she had met over the years, how much she respected them, and how grateful she was for their service. Most of those listening were not in tears. She took pictures with him and treated him as if he were the only one in the room.
That night, Richard was different. He stood a little straighter. For the first time in years, he felt proud to be a veteran. I will never forget how much Ann-Margret's kindness and that small act meant to my husband.
After dinner, Richard was unusually quiet. When I asked, "Is there something you want to talk about?", my big, strong husband broke down in tears.
"This is the first time someone has thanked me while I was in the army," he said.
Since then, I have made it a point to express my gratitude to anyone I meet who has served in the military. Freedom is never free. I am deeply grateful to everyone who has worn a military uniform.
Please share this story. It might remind others of the importance of honoring the sacrifices of those who serve.

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