The Truth About "Privilege"

[Your Uncle Sam]

Good morning, America.

When an old Soldier is so blessed to reach the age of seventy-five, the sudden realization of being closer to eighty than seventy has a remarkable effect on one’s outlook. The elevation of that vantage point, whether it be from a dung heap or a mountaintop, depends primarily upon choices made along the way- and little upon “privileges” beyond Inalienable Rights granted by Almighty God. In my own life, were it not for choosing to follow a Certain Jew from Nazareth, I readily admit that my own observation post would be the former, not the latter.

I made the most important decision of my life standing in the cold water of San Francisco Bay on Sunday evening, February 26, 1967- lovely lights of the nearby Golden Gate glimmering through the darkness. My dear friend Orlyn Christofferson raised his right arm to the square, uttered appropriate words by Priesthood authority- and lowered me into the water. Truth be told, on the first attempt, Orlyn omitted my first given name- so he immediately baptized me again. When I came up through the water the second time, I had opened my eyes- and witnessed that the water around me was filled with light. The path of my mortal existence was forever changed.

I wish I could say that my life since that night has been devoid of sin and folly, but the Good Shepherd gradually “elevated” me to the man I am today. Yes, I’m still pitifully far from perfect- but I do look back on my life from a mountain top, not a dung heap.

Jesus is the glistening hero of my life overshadowing all others. Nevertheless, there have indeed been many others.

In my childhood, my heroes were identified by numbers worn on their backs- or on their dog tags worn during World War II.

The former were baseball players- all Brooklyn Dodgers. They wore numbers like 4, 1, 39 and of course 42. The 1955 World Series, when the Bums finally beat the Yanks, represents a cherished memory far beyond my ability to verbalize.

The latter were all Veteran family members. Both my parents. Uncles Alfred, Bernie, Dick, Bob, Bill and Vape…

This was my particular “privilege” growing up in the Fifties- not the color of my skin. The above heroes taught me to never give up on life- or on myself. And yes, Jackie Roosevelt Robinson and Roy Campanella helped teach me that valuable lesson long before I had even begun to comprehend what it meant to be black in America.

My heroes in the Sixties were mostly jazz musicians. While serving in the 6th Army Band at the Presidio of San Francisco, I had the “privilege” of meeting Maynard Ferguson, Miles Davis, Nat Adderley, Cannonball Adderley, Aretha Franklin and John Coltrane. Just typing those legendary names causes tears to well up in my eyes. Those jazz legends taught me true greatness is not dependent upon privilege, but on how far we are willing to “push the limits” of our imagination, endurance and courage.

Finally this morning, I have given a lifetime of service to God and Country- through the Priesthood, the military, law enforcement as a parole officer, and presently as a wildland firefighter. The greatest lesson gleaned from all that life experience?

The American Dream rests not on privilege, but squarely upon the freedom to become the best we can be.

Please grasp the fundamental truth that liberty cannot flourish outside the Rule of Law- and in this imperfect world, neither one will long endure without our police, fire and military heroes daily putting their lives on the line to preserve our way of life.

Dickie Allan

[Your Uncle Sam]

Thanks, Dickie. You outdid yourself this morning.