A Genuine American Patriot

We often meet nice people on cruises, but I rarely meet special people. This last trip, however, I did. Her name was J.J., and she had more energy and resilience than almost any American I’ve ever met. What struck me most, though, was her extraordinary love for this country and its military.

Ever since she was a little girl, J.J. aspired to be a “Julie” on the Love Boat. After a varied career, she finally applied for a job as a cruise excursion director. She made such an impression during her interview that they offered her “Julie’s job” as cruise director, even though she’d never done it before.

The hiring team recognized something unique: her love of people, ships, and this country. Combined with her experience managing employees and serving customers, those qualities made her an excellent candidate. Our cruise was her first solo flight as cruise director.

On our last evening aboard, J.J. led a ceremony honoring the veterans among the ship's 90 passengers, and there were quite a few. My husband and I aren’t big on ceremonies, but after the hubbub died down, we wandered in.

By then, we’d already had several pleasant interactions with J.J., so when she saw us, she lamented that my husband had missed the ceremony. He explained that his reticence was because many Vietnam veterans had been treated poorly on their return to the U.S.

In response, J.J., who’d already shown a knack for seizing the right moment, insisted on formally presenting my husband with his veteran’s pin right then and there. Jerry stood up sheepishly as she thanked him for his service. She said it was an honor to present him with the pin because it let her honor her great-grandfather, her grandfather, her father, and even her son for their service to this country.

After presenting Jerry with his pin, she shook his hand and gave him a big hug. It was probably the only moment he had been acknowledged as a Vietnam-era veteran. I was so proud to be a part of that intimate exchange.

By then, only a few people were left in the room. Once we sat down, J.J. sat on the floor in front of us to chat and tell us her story following her husband's passing just four years before. Shortly after losing him, her company was taken over, and she lost her job. After that, she moved from job to job, trying to absorb all the loss.

She told us about her son, who had been accepted to West Point. However, he felt it was more important to enlist as a regular soldier and chose to serve in Afghanistan. (Thankfully, he survived.)

The current man in her life showed the same generosity of spirit. He encouraged her to apply for the cruise job, even though it meant they would often be apart. He reminded her that she had always wanted to travel.

As she told us these stories, her eyes glowed with love for family, country, and service, which she gave in her own special way. Her vivacity and enthusiasm were only momentarily interrupted when she reminisced about her losses. It was clear she believed her life, despite her difficulties, had been blessed.

I hope that we encounter J.J. again on some future cruise. Her enthusiasm for this country and her love of helping others were contagious and moving.

As we parted that evening, I loved the long, warm hug she gave me.

I plan to pass it on.

[Originally published in American Thinker ]