Like most of the parents in the seats, I figured I would spend the day keeping a low profile, clapping when appropriate, snapping a few blurry photos, and then getting back on the road. For the first hour, that plan seemed perfectly fine as I kept my eyes locked on Jessica and tried not to think about the long, lonely stretch of highway waiting for me afterward.
Everything shifted when Lieutenant General Patrick Sterling’s predecessor, Lieutenant General George Henderson, started walking toward the area where the families were milling about. His eyes suddenly locked onto the beat-up leather band wrapped around my wrist, and the longer he stared, the more it became clear that he recognized something significant.
The leather band was ancient, cracked, and heavily worn after more than twenty years of constant wear. Attached to it was a faded, tarnished metal plate engraved with a single name that remained visible despite decades of scratches, sun exposure, and sheer neglect.
That name was Burton.
