I remember

the day when my father, after watching the scenes of riot and disorder

during the 1960s, looked at me and said, "I fear for this country

when I remember that one day it will be in the hands of your generation."

Even then,

I could see his point. Students were rioting in the streets and burning

down ROTC buildings as the war in Vietnam raged. Dad was of the "Greatest

Generation," as one journalist called it those who left their homes

to fight in the Pacific, Europe, Africa, or some other far flung country

during the dark days of World War II. When he looked at the next generation,

he just didn't see the "right stuff."

There were

four of us who hung out together in those days back in the neighborhood.

There was me, Steve Duncan, and the Brewer brothers, Mike and David. We

were just your normal high school kids who all went to Dobyns-Bennett

High School and attended the youth group and church at Mountain View Methodist

Church.

Steve was the

scholar, I played football, David was in the high school band, and Mike

ran cross-country. With the exception of Steve, the rest of us were in

karate classes together. All of us, with the exception of Steve (the best

of the lot, really), were very un-serious about life and the future.

Mike was the

first to leave home and enlist in the Marine Corps. The following year,

I left college and headed off to the Marines myself. The year after that,

David did the same.

Steve had college

plans but his mother came down with cancer and there was no one to care

for her. Leaving his college dreams behind, Steve faithfully cared for

his mother for a number of years until her death. Steve went on to manage

the retail end of a pharmacy and eventually married and became a house

parent for troubled and abandoned youth for an agency operated by a major

denomination. He and his wife wound up adopting one of the little girls

who had been abandoned and they live in my old hometown now.

Mike, as I

recall, stayed in the Marines for the full hitch. He should be long retired

now. His brother became a police officer after leaving the Marine Corps.

I've lost touch with them and am not sure where they are today. As for

me, I finished my stint with the Corps, returned to school, and became

a social worker in the field of child abuse and neglect for a few years.

Today, I am a priest.

All in all,

we did okay, those four of us that Dad saw as representatives of the generation

to fear. George W. Bush is of my generation. He's not doing too badly

either these days.

As for the

coming generation, unlike Dad, I'm not too worried. These kids will go

through their difficulties and their lapses in judgment but, eventually,

they'll get it together.

My wife and

I were blessed with three sons. The two oldest are police officer in communities

near our home. The youngest is in the U. S. Air Force working in the intelligence

field with a job so secret he can't even talk to me about it. There were

many days I worried about them as they grew up and, yes, I remember saying

one day, "I fear for this country when I remember ..." Well,

you get the idea.

My generation,

in spite of the conditions and circumstances did pretty well. The nation

still stands and, with rare exceptions, we have raised good kids. My father's

generation displayed courage, faithfulness, and perseverance.

Proverbs 7:20

says, "A righteous man who walks in his integrity - how blessed are

his sons after him." Even though my father and his generation had

their doubts, we who were blessed by their lives, sacrifice, and example

took up the torch they passed us. And now our kids are about to take the

same torch they carried, that was passed to us, and run with it. They

will do well.

Most of the

police officers and firefighters on the streets today are of my sons'

generation. The military men and women smashing in the teeth of terrorism

in remote lands are of my sons' generation. Those in seminary or in their

early days of their ministerial career are of my sons' generation.

We did okay

in our generation, Dad. I wish you were here to see it. And I wish you

could see your grandsons. They're awfully fine men and they're going to

do okay, too. Thanks for what you did in your time. You and all those

like you made it possible for the next generations to do their part. We

won't let you down.

[David Epps

is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church in the south

metro Atlanta area. He may be contacted at [email protected]

or at www.ChristTheKingCEC.com .]