I was fresh out of Indiana University journalism school, and I’d just landed my first reporter position with the Bedford Times-Mail, a daily newspaper in Southern Indiana. Though I’d been hired to cover the city government beat, my editor also gave me opportunities to write feature stories for the front page from time to time.
“Hey, swing by after deadline…I have an important assignment for you,” my editor said. Later when I stopped by his desk, I listened intently as he shared about Lance Cpl. Brian Lane, one of Bedford’s own, who had been killed during a tank battle at Kuwait International Airport the year before.
As my editor relayed the details of the following day’s ceremony that would honor our hometown hero with the official renaming of one of Bedford’s most prominent streets, my mind drifted back to the previous year when I’d first learned of Lane’s death.
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I had been sitting in one of my senior journalism classes at IU when I heard that someone from my hometown had lost his life in the Persian Gulf War. Though I didn’t know him personally, I remember thinking, “He was only 20 years old…we’re almost the same age. Yet here I sit, working toward college graduation, planning my upcoming wedding and getting ready to start my adult life, yet his life is over…it’s not fair.”
I felt so many emotions right at that moment. Sadness that his life was cut short. Guilt that I was able to go on living mine. But mostly gratitude for his service—an overwhelming sense of thankfulness and appreciation for Lance Cpl. Brian Lane and so many others who had given their lives so that I could live mine in the land of the free and the home of the brave.
I quietly prayed for the Lane family that day in class, that God would comfort them as they walked through the following days. Little did I know that a year later, I’d be the reporter covering the street renaming ceremony.
I don’t recall exactly what I wrote that day, but I remember hearing that Brian had always wanted to be a Marine, and that he had even left high school early to join the Marines.
And, I remember two men in uniform unveiling the new white street sign that said, “Brian Lane Way” in bold red letters.
I remember looking up at the American flag whipping in the wind as a quartet sang our national anthem and really listening to the lyrics: “O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave. O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?”
But mostly I remember feeling that same overwhelming sense of gratitude that I’d experienced when I first learned of Lance Cpl. Brian Lane’s death.
I’d always known that freedom wasn’t free, but that day I didn’t just know it in my head; I felt it in my heart.
Father, we pray today for the families of our fallen men and women in uniform, and we ask that You comfort them and give them supernatural peace. And, Lord, we ask that You protect and bless all of our country’s veterans. Help us to show our gratitude and appreciation for their service today and every day, and Lord, help us to never forget that freedom isn’t free. In the Mighty Name of Your Son Jesus, Amen.
