The place where our family lived the longest was Virginia Beach, Virginia. Our first house, a vinyl-sided Dutch Colonial on a cul-de-sac, was close enough to the elementary school to hear the morning announcements from our porch. Despite deployments which took my husband away, we spent nine wholesome, grounding, family-oriented years there, growing roots,…
It’s the little things: Why community is critical to warfighting
As I waited in line at the commissary, I perused the military newspapers in the rack — Hmm, so the Air Force is allowing beards now, hu? “Do you have any coupons, my dear?” the mocha-skinned commissary cashier interrupted my reading with her thick Rhode Island accent that I’d come to recognize so well. I…