(He Was A Member Of) The Greatest Generation

In Loving Tribute to Uncle Ken. You really were like a grandfather to me.

He was special, but he was no actor with a Hollywood star.
He was special, but he wasn't into the rock 'n roll scene or fancy cars.
He was special, but he didn't have a fortune or a yacht or wings.
He was special, yet was that in ways far greater to me,
For you see, my friends, he was a member of the greatest generation there'll ever be.

He was born in the heart of the mountainous Carolina country,
Grew up in the midst of hardship, economic depression,
Then war came screaming and knocking for the brave to bear arms and fight,
And he answered the heated calls to duty for freedom's sake.
He was no longer an innocent man, but now became a man of the world.

Yes, he was a member of the greatest generation,
The greatest generation, by far, I have ever seen.
He helped push back the armies of what Nostradamus called the second coming of the antichrist
Until the evil hoard came crashing down, until they were soundly defeated,
And when they were crushed, he helped lift the flag of liberty to display the dawn of a new age,
And the oppressed fell upon wounded knees, crying in thankfulness
Because guys like this simple Carolina country boy cared,
And thanked God for these battered but not broken heroes.
As I see it, my friends, men like him were the guardian angels of the earth,
The proof in the pudding that this was, indeed, the greatest generation.

But that was not all God had placed on his plate, oh no sirree,
For a far greater force than what he had witnessed in the trenches across the pond beckoned.
He fell in love with a dandy of a lady, then settled down and raised four daughters,
And he began living the very essence of the American dream.
Call his children "baby boomers." Call them what you will,
For if it weren't for people like him, we all would simply not be.

Decades passed, and he had the pleasure of enjoying his grandchildren and great-grandchildren,
Even being so lucky as to live to see the rarity of a great-great grandchild.
His hair grew white, and his face had a few more lines, but the smile was unmistakable.
He lapped up all this attention for the rest of his blessed days
Until the time came when God called him from above,
And said onto him, "Your work here is done."
He needed no exit strategy. His work here was, indeed, finished,
And he was more than prepared to meet The Lord.
As a very wise man once said onto a nation full of mourners,
"(He) has slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God."

So, as the sands of time descend though the hourglass
And our heroes of yesteryear grow more and more rare,
For us to forget men like him of the greatest generation,
Well, that would just be the greatest folly of all.