Happy birthday: It’s now 234 and counting

Jim Goldsworthy, Columnist

It is said that one can be judged by the company one keeps, but there are times when I am in the company of people who, even if they are my friends, I can only respect and admire ... not be compared to.

Recently, I was privileged to be in a room filled with them — more than 230.

At my table was a lady who may be the oldest living woman Marine.

Margo Myerly was born shortly before World War I ended, and when she told her father she had enlisted in the Marines, he said, “They don’t let women in the Marine Corps.”

She replied, “They do now, and I’m going to be one of them.” Margo was a stenographer and served during World War II.

At the next table were Mike and Nancy Szwydek, whose son, Lance Cpl. Steven Szwydek, was killed by an improvised explosive device four years ago in Iraq.

Rather than reacting with bitterness, the Szwydeks established the Semper Fi Memorial Fund, which teaches Fulton County, Pa., students about the price of freedom. It takes them on field trips to Arlington National Cemetery.

Seated with the Szwydeks was the Hampton family, which has produced eight Marines.

In accordance with tradition, the youngest Marine present — Lance Cpl. Meaghan Hampton — helped the oldest Marine present — Margo Myerly — cut the birthday cake. It was the first time anyone knows of that the duty was performed by two women.

I believe in tradition, and at the Mountainside Marine Detachment’s celebration of the Corps’ 234th birthday, I was surrounded by it.

There were a couple of China Marines, who were stationed in Shanghai before World War II, plus veterans of every succeeding conflict , including some who have served in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Iwo Jima veteran Woody Williams, a Medal of Honor recipient, was to have attended but couldn’t because of health reasons. I have met Woody, and he autographed my Thousand Veterans March ballcap, which I will never again wear for a lesser purpose.

The Mountain State Young Marines were at the door to greet those who attended, and these are kids any family would be proud to have.

Sitting at the head table were two generals, including Gen. Robert Magnus, the former assistant commandant of the Marine Corps. The Marines don’t have many generals, and to have met one who wears four stars isn’t something I’ll soon forget.

Magnus said that traditional interservice rivalries aside, all of our service members have one thing in common that binds them together more than anything else: They are going in harm’s way to defend America, and they do so with pride.

Marines and Army soldiers who serve together in Afghanistan and Iraq know only that they are brothers, he said.

Whether they are Army, Navy, Air Force or Marines makes little difference, and members of the Coast Guard — who he said are often overlooked — are also placing their lives on the line today in America’s behalf.

Many are now wounded warriors who have never lost the determination that made them America’s best, and therefore keep finding new ways to serve our country, he said.

Magnus is a Vietnam veteran, and part of a group that hasn’t always been honored the way it should have been. Members of Chapter 172 of the Vietnam Veterans of America were present, and to them, he said, “You carried the torch.”

The chapter’s Color Guard presented its round table, which honors those who were Prisoners of War, or who are still Missing in Action. It’s one of the most riveting things I’ve ever watched, and in a room filled with more than 200 people you could hear nothing but the words of the narrator.

One of my friends on the Color Guard told me, “If there was even one dry eye in there, I don’t know whose it was.” I said that I’ve seen the Round Table many times now, and I’m all right until the bagpiper plays “Amazing Grace.”

He agreed. It’s almost impossible to explain to someone the effect that “Amazing Grace” can have on a person, unless he’s been there and done it himself.

I love the Marines, but I also love those who’ve served in the other branches. I’ve had family and friends in the Corps, as well as the Army, Navy, Air Force and Coast Guard.

To all of them, I owe my freedom.

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The Catholics and the Lutherans argued for centuries about whether it is good works or faith by which we are saved, but they’ve now come to an agreement of sorts.

Martin Luther said that good works do not necessarily make a man good, but a good man does good works. When I think of Luther’s words, I think of Harold Walters, who passed away last week. He was a member of Trinity Lutheran Church that I attend in Keyser.

Harold was a teacher who never stopped teaching, and in later years was the instructor in a senior citizens safe-driving class. I couldn’t begin to tell you all of what I learned from him ... including the many reasons why we can reconcile science with our faith.

Harold was a navigator on a B-29 bomber that flew frequent missions over Japan during World War II, and he told me that his prayers were still being directed to those who had been on the receiving end of what he helped to deliver.

“It had to be done,” he said with a determination I could hear in his voice and see in his eyes. Harold was proud to be an American veteran, and was always an active one.

The Interfaith Community Pantry of Keyser became his passion, and Edie’s. As it says in St. Matthew, to feed the hungry is to feed the Savior himself, and Harold told me it is one of a Christian’s most important duties.

To me, Harold and Edie Walters represent everything that is good, and I love them with all my heart. They have enriched my world and that of countless others.