My American story started when I realized I was not like most kids. Starting in kindergarten I noticed all these kids being walked into school each day with their dads. I asked my mom, what is a dad? Why don’t we have a dad? Being 5 that’s what you wonder about. I always thought why don’t I have one of those people called a dad? Over time of course I realized my dad had been shot down in North Vietnam. Our story is simple, we miss our dad and this Memorial Day we realize how lucky we are to be American.