Both men died in the service of their country doing what they loved – flying. Both men left behind wives and families. When I come to Washington on the occasion that I do, I make it a point to visit them for a few minutes.
Today, as I stood near Trojan’s grave in Arlington National Cemetery, I found myself between two funerals, conducted nearly simultaneously. One solider. One sailor. Two twenty-one gun salutes. Two trumpets playing taps. This is a sobering reminder that our freedom is not free.