I can't agree more:
That's Doc Raoul just behind the streetlight globe in the black shirt holding a flag in the center of this 2008 photo in West Chester, PA, where patriots countered a group of anti-war ghouls. To Raoul's left is VAFlagWaver, and to her left in the white shirt is Albion Wilde.
As reading this thread reveals, Raoul Deming was here, there, and everywhere. He freeped in multiple locations in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Washington DC, Virginia, Georgia, North Carolina and Texas -- and that's just the ones I know about offhand -- while holding down a job, being a family man, and performing many, many acts of charity for the combat wounded.
He would drive any freeper anywhere to freep -- I remember fondly meeting up with him and Sisku Hanne somewhere on the PA turnpike and going in his car hours west from there to Johnstown, PA to freep John Murtha. En route, he tried to convince us to drive down weeks hence to Georgia for an upcoming freep on Armed Services Day, when Fort Benning would be targeted by protesters. My health wouldn't allow it at the time, but I know he got there.
Here's a banner with a slogan Raoul wrote:
The alternate tagline in the red stripe was "Anti-War Commies Go Home."
Raoul freeped at military bases, in front of the Capital Building, the White House, Walter Reed Army Medical Center, the Lincoln Memorial, the Arlington Memorial Bridge -- anywhere there was a need or a cause and he could lend his extraordinary, attention-riveting political humor.
Here's Doctor Raoul (left) dressed as Boris Badinov at the 2006 FReep of the White House Correspondents Dinner, waving at the media elites as they arrived at the DC Hilton in a long line of limos and hired cars. They were a captive audience as he shouted, "WELCOME, COMRADES! WELCOME, COMRADES!" If bad looks from leftist journalists could kill, we'd have been attending his wake that week. (That's BStein80 in the baby bonnet.)
Here's Doc arriving at the same at the Correspondents Dinner FReep with a full carton of fresh-baked soft pretzels for the FReepers, which he had acquired from Philadelphia before driving down to DC.
Freepers weren't the only ones to benefit when Doc Raoul brought Philly soft pretzels or hoagies from his road trips. More times than I can count, I saw him show up at Walter Reed with cartons of these Philadelphia delicacies for the wounded. Somehow, he would transport them for 3+ hours and keep them still warm, even having the vendor wrap them individually in foil. If you said to him, "Oh, my gosh, Raoul, how generous! I can't believe you went to so much trouble!" he would just brush it off, and then rave about the great cheesesteaks from a Tony Luke's on east Oregon Avenue or some treasured West Philly food spot.
Once at Mologne House, a residence on the old Walter Reed campus for recovering wounded, he discovered a soldier from Poland, a Coalition trooper recovering at Walter Reed. The soldier was brave and good-humored, but struggling with English and obviously far from home. The next week, Raoul grabbed my elbow and said, "Let's go see that Polish soldier." He had an extra-large shopping bag in his hand. We went up and knocked on the soldier's door, and the young man opened it. Raoul made a brief reference to his own Polish heritage -- how it made him a customer of a very good Polish deli -- then proceeded to unload package after package of Polish meats, cheeses, pickled products and authentic Polish baked goods for the gob-smacked soldier.
It was just typical of him. One time, he just handed me a one of those gray Army-issue jackets with the reflective chevron stripe to wear on the dark, heavily-trafficked avenue while freeping Walter Reed. "Here!"
He did so much for so many with so little fanfare. He's here; he's there -- Raoul Deming, a speeding streak of patriotic passion -- always with a smile, a joke, an infectious baritone laugh!
Raoul, the father of a Navy seawoman, and ConcreteBob, a Marine veteran, began holding barbecues outside of the recovery dorm at Walter Reed with Mike Sparling, a Vietnam vet whose son was an Iraq War inpatient. They cobbled together a grill from an oil drum. Soon the smells of the pounds and pounds of meats and grillable veggies they brought in would bring soldiers out of their rooms in wheelchairs or on crutches, down to the old outdoor picnic table. Eventually, Walter Reed itself realized what a good idea this was, and had three large stone patios with deluxe built-in grills constructed. Raoul raised funds for these barbecues from freepers, but I know Raoul (and Bob, too) contributed a large share from his pocket.
That's just the kind of guy he was.
