I am standing in front of a simple wall. Not one of elaborate decoration nor one of a hundred feet high, it's just a simple wall. But what is etched into it stirs my pride to the point of tears. It's not engraved with unconnected faces or dates or even men on horseback. It's engraved with names.

Names of men and women who gave the ultimate sacrifice so that I might stand here with my family. I cry for them, they who will not come back, but have.
For those who visit this simple wall, and those who come back, it brings memories. Memories of life and loves, of triumphs and defeats, and unending friendships.

In my mind, I can hear the gentle notes of Taps wafting over the polished black stone. A final testimony to their courage and valor. As an American, I will always be grateful to them. They and all those who fought and died before them so that my family and I could be free Americans, forever.

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