My mother was an adventurous woman with?a good sense of humor. She loved Flat Stanley, the little paper figure who went places and had his picture taken to share with friends and family. I can remember driving my mother all over the place, photographing that simple little doodle of a man with her as she documented her day. Once, when a tail light blew out, Flat Stanley went to the garage with us for repairs. I can still see him sitting on the dashboard, while the earnest mechanic got busy.
But more than my mother loved Flat Stanley, she loved the romantic story of Judy and Jack, because she was a witness to the power of love. Back then, a dime was all it took to jump start a couple of star-crossed lovers.
Judy was our next-door neighbor down at the shore, where my grandparents had a home. Jack was going to be a dentist, but he got called up during the Vietnam War. That summer, he and Judy did a little lovers'?dance that seemed to go on forever. He was a familiar figure at our beach, as was she. My mother, a keen observer, noticed the longing glances that didn't connect. Judy was interested. Jack was interested. But Jack was going off to war, and there was no telling whether or not he would return. Any decent man would hesitate to put the life of a young woman on hold, especially if he could not make any promises.
For a kid my age, Judy was the epitome of glamor. Two dimpled cheeks, big beautiful eyes, she was like the quintessential Breck girl. I can still remember the one and only time in my life I got to have big hair. Judy pinned my hair into a French twist and I felt like the Miss America title (complete with college scholarship) would soon be mine. I never understood how Jack was able to resist her. What was there not to like, not to love?
We soon found out the reality of their love for one another. One of our favorite pasttimes back then was to hit the Pitch-and-Putt and the driving range at night. There's something wonderful about slamming a golf ball out to the back forty, especially if you're frustrated. Judy was with us that night, wearing her heart on her sleeve. My mother, playing matchmaker, handed her a dime.
"Go call him," she directed Judy. Back then, you were supposed to wait for boys to call you. You weren't supposed to chase them like overeager, sex-crazed school girls on spring break. It wasn't all that respectable. To Judy, it must have felt good to have this housewife encourage her to follow her heart. But what about Jack? He kept Judy at arm's length. Maybe he just wasn't that interested. Maybe he wasn't ready for anything serious. There were, after all, other fish in the sea. And yet, Jack was headed to Camp Lejeune. She might never see him again, might never know whether what they had was something special. "Go on. Call him. We'll wait."
In the day of pay phones, Judy nervously plunked that dime into the slot. Jack answered the phone and her prayers. But that wasn't the end of their love story, not by a long shot.
I still remember the day Judy showed me the gigantic poster of herself she had made for Jack. She made a gorgeous (respectable) pin-up girl. That black-and-white photograph, long before Flat Daddy came along, was an amazing gift to a man with doubts about his life, his work, and what war would bring. That poster must have cost Judy an absolute fortune, but love always demands real sacrifice.
Jack went off to serve, Judy went off to college. They married when he came home. Golf remained a big part of their lives throughout the years. Now they have grandchildren. It's a happy ending for a generation that didn't always have happy endings.
Sometimes when I see Flat Daddy, I remember all that came before that current icon of love for a soldier. It's not a new idea. It's not even an original idea. It's a sentimental idea. But what about our troops? What about what they take with them?to war. If not a poster, like Judy sent Jack, then what?
Sometimes smaller is better. Years ago, my sister and nephew frequently gave us miniature figures of them in their ice hockey uniforms, on skates. Some were Christmas ornaments that hung on our trees, some were on stands, and I would scatter them on shelves. I still have them, all these years later and they still make me smile. (My sister, a bagpiper, often does a lot of memorial services for fallen heroes. Is there anything more heartbreaking than to stand in a cemetery, hearing "Amazing Grace" piped as we gather to say farewell?)
Sure, you could have a key chain with a loved one's photo if you're in the military. You could have a locket to wear. But there is something wonderfully goofy about a tiny little figure of someone you love that can make you smile. Sitting in a locker, perched on a shelf, attached to the dashboard like a wild hula dancer without a grass skirt, sometimes tiny is better.
The truth is that whether you're talking about Flat Stanley or Flat Daddy or Poster Girl Judy, the concept isn't new. It's been around for a couple of generations. Whether you go big or go tiny, it's all about supporting our troops and their families. It's all about remembering that even in war, the heart wants what it wants?-- to?be heard through the chaos, disappointments, and stress of war. It's all about coming home.
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My children's chapter ebooks, featuring the Military Brats Club, are free to military families, through my publisher, Smashwords. (I am always happy to provide all of my ebooks to military families for free, through Operation eBook Drop -- it's a great program.) I also want to encourage children in non-military families to read them, because real support for our troops should always be a community thing:
Flat Daddy Magic, use coupon code HX34K:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/158634 Flat Daddy Camping Trip, use coupon code KG37L:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/170834
Source: http://www.bodaciousbabyboomer.com/2012/08/long-before-stay-at-home-flat-daddy.html
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