Maybe three years after having been honorably discharged from the Marines as an E-5 in San Diego, I was attending a 4th of July parade in Pittsburgh's three rivers area. My hair had grown out a bit and I was wearing cut off shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. I was flanked on either side by my two young children, 3 & 5 years old. As the parade approached, it was lead by a limo carrying a Marine full bird colonel in dress blues right behind the color guard detail. I had been sitting on the curb dishing out cotton candy to my kids and waiting for the parade to begin. As the colors approached, without hesitation or conscious thought, I stood to attention. You, that are Marines, will know the posture without explanation… With hair on my shoulders, tattered shorts and shirt… and thumbs on my seams, I'm sure I appeared to have anything but military bearing. Much to my surprise, and pride, the Colonel standing in the back seat of the open limo, recognizing the posture, pivoted precisely on his heals, faced me and popped a perfect salute.
That was in 1988… I have never once since forgot what it means to be a Marine. It's not a title, it's what we are. Semper Fi!