I leaned down to whisper in my son’s ear. “John, you can salute Daddy now and say good-bye to him.” My sweet little boy who had turned three years old that morning relinquished my hand, then stepped forward and stood at attention in his blue suit before lifting his tiny hand in a perfect salute. Click. I didn’t have to hear the cameras to know that unlike all of us, that brutal, precious image would withstand the cruel ravages of time.
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