Isidro P. Javier (5/10/1912 - 8/18/2010)
Today
is Memorial Day. All over America people are celebrating with the
traditional “day off’ and lighting up the bar-BBQ's, going out on
picnics, having festivals, and enjoying time with families and friends.
We do not mean to ignore the terrible tragedy of the storms and floods
that have ravaged much of the central United States in recent days and
weeks. Rather, we only wish to observe what the meaning of Memorial Day
is and to point out that this day has come with a price.
Since
the days of the American Revolution, and throughout wars and “police
actions”, we have called on citizens and non-citizens to bear the burden
of war and sacrifice, all in the name of protecting our freedom. It is
customary to honor and “memorialize” the dead, yet almost nothing is
ever said or done to remember the survivors. What about the wounded who
have come back maimed, crippled, disfigured, and what about the wounded
in spirit, forever changed and haunted by images of the horror, unable
to cope with “normal” life?
And
what about the silent suffering of the veterans who have somehow
managed to carry on with their lives. They are many, and we should
remember them too. America has not been fair or honorable in the manner
it has called some to service. It asked blacks to fight in the civil
war, but refused to give them the right to vote. Blacks were segregated
into separate all-black units because whites would not serve with them.
Japanese Americans were pulled from their homes and shipped to
internment camps, and America had the audacity to ask some of them to
serve in the Army and fight the Germans in WWII. Filipinos were imported
for exploitation as cheap laborers on the farms in California, and then
persuaded to fight the war in the promise of gaining citizenship.
Two
names come to mind as examples: Manong Isidro P. Javier, and Manong Leo
Giron. They arrived in California, virtually penniless, and had the
only option of working in the fields at first. But they and all the
other Filipinos were treated as second-class, and for most, there was no
hope of becoming American citizens. The military services needed
bodies, and it was decided to lure Filipinos into the Army and Navy by
promising them citizenship. And they came...22,000 in the Army alone.
but they were not allowed to be integrated, rather, separate divisions
were created. Manong Leo Giron was assigned to a commando unit, fighting
behind the lines in the Philippines, hand-to-hand against the Japanese.
Manong
Isidro P. Javier took his station as a gunner on deck of an aircraft
carrier, fighting duels with dive bombers and kamikaze attacks. These
two warriors returned from the war and were granted citizenship, but
many died and were never able to achieve that coveted prize.
We,
who enjoy our lives in this great country owe a debt of gratitude to
all those who have served and are now serving. Our service men and women
are fighting in countries where Americans are hated and despised,
fighting to help people who live in ignorance and view our way of life
as evil, yet, still, our soldiers and sailors carry on with pride and
honor, to keep us all free.
After
all his accomplishments as a self-made business man, 33rd Degree Mason,
leader of his community, the proudest moment for Manong Isidro P.
Javier was to be buried in his Navy uniform.
He, like millions of other
great Americans just wanted to be appreciated and remembered for their
contribution, and that is why I think we should all take a moment and
salute our veterans, dead and living.
Thank
you Manong Isidro P. Javier, and Manong Leo Giron, and thanks to all
who served before you, with you, and to all who will be called to serve
in the future.
By, Glen Rathbone "The Writer"
