His father rarely slept. The family business, especially during the spring/summer months, was the time money needing to be made to hold them over during the winter happened. As the father fell asleep in his chair in front of the television his son approached, cautiously. Startling his dad at anytime could get one hurt.
Fighting bullies trying to steal his clothes as a child, on his own at fifteen defending himself riding the rails with hobos from California to New Mexico, and in the Army at seventeen will shape a man. The son knew to stay back when attempting to awaken him.
“Dad?” he said from a safe distance.
The father didn’t move a muscle. “Yeah?” he said with closed eyes.
“Big game tomorrow…do you think you could hit me some grounders before school in the morning.
The father smiled to himself. Although he knew he needed the sleep he’d gladly give it up to hit baseballs to his son, the shortstop.
The morning came early as their roles reversed.
“Time to get up buddy,” his father shook him gently.
The high school sophomore blinked his eyes, “thanks dad, be ready in a minute.”
“I’ll be in the car.”
The ten minute drive to the high school allowed just enough of the dawn to break.
The son put on his cleats, stretched quickly and sprinted to his favorite place in the world. For about ten minutes the father hit ball after ball chasing his son from one side of the diamond to the other. As fast as he could the son scooped up the grounders and lobbed the ball back in to his father standing at home plate.
The eleventh minute started to bring fatigue to the shortstop. With fatigue comes short cuts, and his glove wasn’t where it needed to be, when his father swung the bat mightily with one arm, hitting a bullet of a one hopper, which took a bad hop leaving a bleeding bruise on his shin. Picking it up he rubbed his eyes, lobbed it back in, and danced back to his position. Another shot off the his father’s bat moved too quickly popping loudly off his protective cup echoing through the trees surrounding the field at Trinity High School. He gasped in pain and dropped to a knee.
“You okay?” asked his father.
“Yeah…I’m okay” he answered.
“Then get back to your spot.”
The shortstop half ran half staggered back to his position and readied himself for the next missile. His wait was short. Fatigue, pain, and now anger clouded his judgment, hampering his reflexes, and his glove completely missed the ball decorating his other shin with another bloody bruise. The son stared at the ball as his temper flared.
“Screw this!” he yelled at his dad. “I’m done!” He stated as he started jogging off the field toward the car leaving the ball right where it stopped rolling.
His father didn’t move. The behemoth of a man motioned with his arm,”You get your ass back out there! This was your idea! Not mine! You finish what you start!”
The son froze around the pitcher’s mound glaring at his father. He’d hated being told what to do his entire life. As the two glared at each other the son turned, out of a combination of love, respect, and fear, and jogged back to his favorite place in the world.
“Lets go!” he challenged his father.
Ball after ball flew at him for the next ten minutes. He sprinted to his right, his left, snatching each ball up and firing them back in.
Finally his father called out, “Last one,” and crushed the ball driving it up the middle of the diamond. His son took two steps and dove, extending his left arm as far as possible. He felt the ball land in the webbing of his glove as he landed chest first, face second, slamming his mouth into the dirt. Jumping to his feet he spit out part of the field and sprinted to his dad who was smiling.
“Great play!”
“Thanks dad…and thanks for not letting me quit”.
The man put a massive hand on his son’s shoulder, “Whatever you decide to do with your life I will support. It’s your life. But when you commit you never quit. When you start you never stop. We never give up. Never. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
That man is my father and that lesson will stay with me forever.
Never stop. Never quit. Never give in.
As our message grows, fear amongst those we will replace, heightens. There’s even fear amongst some who want a new way but are unwilling to do anything to bring change about. The “status quo” is a safer road for some, regardless of insanity, because it’s all they know.
But we aren’t here to change peoples minds!
We are here to gather the millions of us across America who KNOW we have to stop the madness of debt. The madness of the abuse happening every day on our southern border.
Ignore the talking heads and scared voters who proclaim a new way cannot be found. That we must wait until a disaster strikes. That humans only learn through trial by fire. Maybe in some societies this is true but we are not “some” society.
We are the dream! We are the greatest collection of humanity the world has ever seen!
We are Americans!
We never stop. We never quit. Freedom isn’t an option for us. It’s our way of life!
We’ve been given a gift passed down through generations who’ve paid the ultimate price that their children and grand-children would see a better day, a brighter future.
It is our duty to make sure that vision continues regardless of cost.
Millions of Americans are preparing for the worst.
Let us prepare for the best!
You’ve been waiting for a call. A call to defend and restore OUR country.
How much louder do I have to be!
I am calling you now! I am screaming for your energy, your time, your passion for the greatest nation ever!
The greatest sword to be sharpened is our minds! Let not the cowards be the loudest voices. Let not the fear in our hearts shape our direction. Embrace the greatness inside each one of you! The greatness of the American citizen. Protected by the most precious gathering of words guaranteeing your individual freedom. Your right to pursue happiness in all forms. Gather this awesome power as a free person and join me.
The battle has already begun. Use your God given free will and step into the fray. Never fear. You do not step alone. This is why I am here. Come to me. Join us.
I scream alone.
We ROAR together.
Jason Kraus
02-16-2015
“Late Bird” by Jason Kraus
Restoring a nation one voice at a time.
www.aleadernotapolitician.com
