Thanks to a Stranger

I thought about that evening many times over the years. At the time it seemed like a nice gesture and I was proud to be sitting next to him but three years later that memory would be more meaningful than I ever expected.

It was shortly after he finished basic training. He was home on leave ( I think he was on his way to California). He was so proud of his uniform and what he had accomplished. He called my sister and I to invite us out to dinner. He insisted on taking us to the Palomino because in his eyes it was the best. With him it was always like that. Everything had to be perceived as the "best". When he bought a game system, guitar, he only chose the "best". He ate steak whenever possible because it's the best cut. When he invited a girl to a dance she had to be the most popular girl in school because she was the best. When he joined the armed forces it was the Marines because they are the best.

In this case he wanted to go to the best restaurant in town and wear his dress blues. Rachel and I just happened to be lucky enough to be asked to join him.

As we walked into the restaurant you could tell he was proud.  He stood tall, dressed impeccably and ready to spend whatever was necessary to impress. Funny enough, he was actually disappointed that there wasn't a regular cheeseburger on the menu. We enjoyed a delicious meal that evening (I'm pretty sure he settled on a steak), laughed with each other, argued with each other. He told us how many chin-ups he could do and how many push-ups, he told us about his plans, we talked about my young and growing family and about my sister's plan for the future. But before long the meal was over, dessert had been eaten and all that was left was to pay the bill.

The server came with the little black case (I have no idea what that little black case is called) and slid it across the table to my brother. As Morgan opened it the server said to him said "A gentleman at a table across the way has taken care of your bill this evening."  Inside the check book was a note that simply said "Thank You." We asked after the stranger but he had already left the restaurant.

I remember thinking at that moment "That was nice." It didn't strike how important that gesture was until three years later as I stood by Morgan's grave watching the dirt sprinkle down onto his casket.  That man didn't know that he had bought dinner for young man that had just made it out of basic, he didn't know that Morgan had just wanted to show off his dress blues and impress his sisters with a fancy meal. He didn't know that Morgan would brag about that moment many times (pretty much every time I talked to him he'd say "remember the time I took you to the Palomino......." ). What than man knew was that Morgan had made a commitment to put his life on the line when the time came. And that's just what Morgan did.

So to that person who paid the check for a young Marine years ago, I say Thank You.

Sgt. Morgan W. Strader

July 18, 1981 -November 12, 2004