Monday, May 22, 2006 | 7:17 a.m.
My wife, Carol, has three brothers, Clay, Cliff and Courtney Taylor. And while we rarely if ever get to see them, we keep fairly good tabs on all three of them. The problem is geographic. My bros-in-law reside, respectively, in Lakeland, Fla., Iraq and Afghanistan.
You could say these men represent the best this country has to offer, underpaid though they may be, and so I've been thinking that the least I can do is brag on them a little and provide some scrapbook material for future generations.
I'd hate for them to think the only thing I do in Las Vegas is play 18 holes a day and work on my tan.
We'll start with the eldest, Clay Taylor, age 45. He's the defensive coordinator and assistant head coach for the best high school football team in the nation, the Lakeland High Dreadnoughts. If you don't believe me, go to the USA Today Web site and look it up. In the Florida state finals, the only high school I know with a battleship for a mascot put a good ol' Southern whuppin' on the No. 4-ranked team in the country, St. Thomas Aquinas of Fort Lauderdale. Final score was 39-10. The game was played in Dolphin Stadium in Miami and the whole town of Lakeland emptied to go south and watch the game.
Clay has been offered head coaching jobs all over the state, but he grew up in Lakeland and all his important relatives are there, so he's going to wait his turn to be the head honcho at his alma mater. Even with two young kids, Clay can't be swayed by money from the importance of hometown roots and staying true to your school.
Cliff, 43, has been in the Army most of his adult life, more than 20 years in all. He enlisted shortly after high school, joined the 82nd Airborne, did a peacekeeping mission in the Sinai, was on the island of Grenada when it was invaded and served 21 months in the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea. He was also in the Berlin Brigade at the time the wall came down between East and West Germany. Cliff has never shied away from high-risk, high-testosterone assignments. As my late Uncle Newt would say, he's got a large set.
Cliff also spent a couple of years with OpFor, those highly trained units that simulate the enemy in conducting rigorous, live-action field operations. One time Cliff's unit was actually simulating combat against his younger brother Courtney's unit, and Cliff made up mock posters indicating that his sibling was wanted for military and other heinous crimes. He got a big charge out of that. Cliff also spent a couple of years as a drill sergeant at Fort Knox.
Since March he has been in Iraq, where he is serving as a scout providing protective services for convoys. That means he drives heavily armed vehicles and sweeps the roads and highways for explosive devices. Military service doesn't get much more hazardous than that. Cliff and his wife, Tina, have five children, all praying for his safe return, as we are in Las Vegas.
Courtney, 41, is one of those super soldiers who like his older brother has taken on all the tough jobs. He is part of that elite force known as Army Rangers. Court had an assignment in the Sinai, has served in special operations around the country, spent a time drafting and preparing counter measures against worldwide terrorist attacks, and is currently a battalion commander in Afghanistan. He spends time with Afghan children and locals, hoping to improve the reputation of our country halfway around the world.
Courtney and his wife, Kimberly, have two children, ages 5 and 7.
Carol talks to our kids a lot about her brothers and the sacrifices they are making. She answers tough questions when news from the war fronts comes on television. While we shield our children to a certain extent from the realities of the world, they have a good idea of the big picture.
Although our daughter was just 2 when 9/11 changed the world, and our son only 5, they are well aware of the connection between that tragic day and their uncles' service overseas. They have been able to correctly pronounce the names Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden since they were out of diapers.
Our kids also know that Uncle Clay is a big deal in Florida, seeing as his high school team played a game on ESPN and the announcers kept bragging on him.
In a world where pop stars and enormously wealthy people seem to get all the attention in the media, we feel it's important every day to remind our children who the real heroes are, and that some of them belong to our own family, even though circumstances have spread them to all corners of the world.
The way I see it is like this: You can support the war or oppose it. You can love George W. or hate him. But anyone who doesn't respect the peril our troops put themselves in on a daily basis doesn't come close to understanding or appreciating the incredible freedoms we enjoy every day in this country.
Whenever I find myself complaining about the price of gasoline or the pollen in the air or the fact that it takes me 10 minutes longer to cross town on the 215, all I have to do is think of our men and women in uniform. My head clears immediately.
Our daughter Lily's first grade class at Las Vegas Day School, taught by Babette Laman, thought it would be fitting to send letters of support to Cliff and Courtney Taylor as they fight every day for our country overseas:
Here is a selection of those letters:
Dear Courtney and Cliff,
Thank you for fighting for our country. I love computer games and 4-square. Are there bugs in Iraq?
- Joseph Buddensiek
Dear Courtney and Cliff,
I like country music, too. Thank you for fighting in Iraq so that we can go to school and learn and be smart.
- Elise
Simister
Dear Courtney and Cliff,
What is it like in Afghanistan? I have broken my right foot and smooshed my middle finger and I still have the thing on. I broke my foot in September and my nail came off by the roots and thank you for fighting for us. God bless you guys and God bless the USA.
- Christian Morehead
Dear Courtney and Cliff,
Thank you for fighting in the war for us. I wish you didn't have to do that. I want you to go spend time with your family.
- Nina Thew
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