Posted on 05/27/2013 8:22:49 AM PDT by National Review
The story of a fallen soldier, a father’s grief, and a hit song
By Lee Habeeb
It happens now and then. You hear a story so sad, so beautiful, so filled with loss and pain and grief and love, that it makes you cry. Really cry.
Two years ago, I was making a grocery run for my family on Memorial Day when a story came on the local NPR station in Oxford, Miss. It was about a father whose son had been killed in action in northwest Afghanistan. The father was Paul Monti; his son was Sergeant Jared Monti. Jared died in Afghanistan trying to save the life of one of his men. Jared was 30 years old when he died, and was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously for his heroism under fire. But that was small consolation to his father: The son he loved and admired was gone, forever.
(Excerpt) Read more at nationalreview.com ...
Lee Brice “I Drive Your Truck”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCSMCgqlc-0
Well, I just lost it.
You can’t hear that song and watch that video without tears falling.
God bless our troops who gave all.
I heard that song recently, and was struck by it; but I didn’t know the whole story. Thank you so much for posting this.
listened to the song and cried.
“Obama Dishonors Medal of Honor Winners with Horrible Gaffe”
http://nation.foxnews.com/president-obama/2011/06/23/obama-dishonors-medal-honor-winners-horrible-gaffe
WOW!
My son and best friend died last October. He was 22 and he was hit by a drunk driver in North Dakota. His favorite truck is the exact same one in the Lee Brice video same color and and year. I gave it to him when he was 14 and he kept every receipt for every thing he did to it. Over the years he had many other and newer vehicles but that truck was always his favorite. I miss Him every day but when that song or the video comes on I just break inside. my shop is full of memories and projects that will never be finished.
I am so sorry for your loss. There is nothing worse than to lose a child.
So sorry for your loss. Can’t imagine your pain.
May our Heavenly Father give you peace of mind & the ability to cope.
HE & the Angels are watching over your son now.
Thanks for sharing that. My condolences.
danged blurry font ...
love that sone never new the story behind it...
[my shop is full of memories and projects that will never be finished.]
I drive my dad’s truck, since he died from coronary-respiratory complications several years ago. In a baggy in console are the contents of the ashtray and the remnants of the cigars he smoked, leaving little pin holes in the drivers seat.
It’s always Papa’s Truck when my family and I drive it up camping, or snowboarding, or to Lowes for the tons of cement and building materials we’ve used it to haul for our home improvement projects... that Papa will never get to see.
And in my shop, on an engine stand, is a project begun with Papa to replace the Carburetted “Computer Controlled” curiosity in the 1985 Ford Ranger... that my Dad helped me buy when we drove it home together in 1986.
There’s something about a Truck, that becomes intertwined with the owner’s persona, their soul.
My dad was a member of Beach Jumper Unit 1, circa 1958.
Here’s to him, those like him - and their Trucks.
Damn. Few. Left.
Just got back from the local memorial day service to honor our vets.
Also in my shop is a roller motor on a stand that we were building for a fox body mustang drag car I guess it will just stay on the stand, maybe some day I will be able to finish it but right now it is just too hard to be in there
It's just unbearable to lose a son. And when I think of the way the politicians take a young soldier's sacrifice and negate it, flick it away like a piece of lint, use it as a foreign policy bargaining chip, turn it to --- stop me, I can't say it.
Lee Brice - “I Drive Your Truck”
-
Eighty-Nine Cents in the ash tray
Half empty bottle of Gatorade rolling in the floorboard
That dirty Braves cap on the dash
Dog tags hangin’ from the rear view
Old Skoal can, and cowboy boots and a Go Army Shirt folded in the back
This thing burns gas like crazy, but that’s alright
People got their ways of coping
Oh, and I’ve got mine
I drive your truck
I roll every window down
And I burn up
Every back road in this town
I find a field, I tear it up
Til all the pain’s a cloud of dust
Yeah, sometimes I drive your truck
I leave that radio playing
That same ole country station where ya left it
Yeah, man I crank it up
And you’d probably punch my arm right now
If you saw this tear rollin’ down on my face
Hey, man I’m tryin’ to be tough
And momma asked me this morning
If I’d been by your grave
But that flag and stone ain’t where I feel you anyway
I drive your truck
I roll every window down
And I burn up
Every back road in this town
I find a field, I tear it up
Til all the pain’s a cloud of dust
Yeah, sometimes I drive your truck
I’ve cussed, I’ve prayed, I’ve said goodbye
Shook my fist and asked God why
These days when I’m missing you this much
I drive your truck
I roll every window down
And I burn up
Every back road in this town
I find a field, I tear it up
Til all the pain’s a cloud of dust
Yeah, sometimes, brother sometimes
I drive your truck
I drive your truck
I hope you don’t mind
I hope you don’t mind
I drive your truck
Thanks.
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