Through the Windows of Time:
Portrait of a West Point Cadet (8:57)
This video is in honor of my father, Col. Lawrence G. Forbes, a West Point Cadet, WWII veteran, husband, and father. The first gentleman's voice is Brig. Gen. George Snead, a fellow officer, and the second voice is my father.
"What a great surprise to find your wonderful portrait of your Dad and Mom . . . Kitty and I sat enthralled with your work of art. You can do more with stills than others do with video. In fact, I like it much better." - Brig. Gen. George Snead, VA
"What a beautiful tribute to your Dad and what memories for him to enjoy. I am so overwhelmed I just can't find the words to tell you what an absolutely tremendous job you did. You are truly a professional." - Loretta Cybulski, CO
Image printed directly on the disk. Booklet included inside contains short story.
External insert with photo on front and summary on the back.
Lawrence G. Forbes Receives
the Lifetime Achievement Award
the Lifetime Achievement Award
(first published August 2004)
by Lissa Ann Forbes
She sits beside her father, Lawrence Forbes, as they listen to stories about ordinary, yet very extraordinary people. She’s beaming because she has something to share.
Finally, it is her turn. The announcer began, “Lissa Ann Forbes will present The Lifetime Achievement Award to Lawrence Gordon Forbes for outstanding service to the USA and being the best Dad she has known.”
Lissa walks slowly to the podium gaining her composure, as she has never addressed a crowd this large before—over 400 attendees. Her father sits in the audience waiting to hear his daughter speak, just realizing he would be the focus of her attention.
Today I present the Lifetime Achievement Award, a gift of recognition, to my Dad, Colonel Lawrence Gordon Forbes. I recently realized that there are many fathers out there, but mine has truly earned the title “Dad.”
What did it take?
From the time I can remember, I was proud to call this gentle man “Dad.” He did not actually “father” me, but from the age of two when I was adopted he never wavered from calling me his own, his daughter.
He held me on his knee and helped me put socks and shoes on. He splashed water on me as I learned to play in the plastic inflatable pool. He stood near as I gained balance and confidence to pogo stick and walk on stilts. He engaged in a fair duel of tennis. He helped me with homework. He attended plays and choral and dance recitals.
I learned from my Mom to be proud of him for the role he played in our world history. My Dad graduated from West Point with honors and served 27 years in the US Army. He was active duty in WWII and had achieved the rank of full Colonel by the time he retired in 1966.
Because of his military service, I learned to have pride in our country, respect the American flag and feel the words of the Star Spangled Banner and God Bless America. To this day these songs bring tears to my eyes. They remind me that my father is a symbol of duty, honor, courage, and survival.
Larry Forbes, at 87, is one of the lucky ones. He survived a war, was married to a woman he loved for 56 years, found fulfilling work, raised two children he can be proud of, and after eight years alone found another companion to love and married in May of this year.
When my mother died in 1996, Dad started talking, like never before. I always remember his quiet presence. But suddenly I felt I was his confidante. He told me what he was doing, where he was traveling and discussed finances and health issues, subjects never before discussed openly with the children. I felt important—valued.
Recently, I realized I’ve been honoring my Dad in an unusual way. First, let me give you a small detail that will help you understand the story. USAA is worldwide insurance and financial services association, providing insurance and financial services to the US military community and their families. At Borders, where I work part-time, I easily notice USAA credit cards. When I see one I ask, “Are you a dependent or did you serve?” I take a moment to thank them or their family member for their service to our country. I didn’t even realize what I was doing for some time, but now I recognize that I’m honoring and acknowledging the contribution made one individual at a time. I’ve also been honoring my Dad every time I do this.
I want to close with my favorite story about my Dad and me. One we still laugh about from long ago—the day I moved into the dorm at the University of Arizona 30 years ago. We had finished lugging what seemed like a hundred boxes up the front steps to the dorm, stacking them in the elevator, and carrying them down the hall on the fifth floor to the fourth room on the left. As I stood on the sidewalk, having said my thanks to Mom, I turned to Dad and gave him a hug. At that moment, two young college boys drove by in the red convertible Mustang and shouted, “Dirty old man!” My father turned to me with the trademark twinkle in his eye saying, “Don’t young girls have fathers anymore?”
Thank you all for allowing me to recognize the hero in my Dad.
Applause exploded. Lissa noticed a lone tear run down her father’s face. She was proud of him all over again. She called him up to the podium to present this special man she calls “Dad” to all who had come to recognize their heroes. The room shook with the thunderous clapping . Sweet music to her ears.
This story originally appeared in Write from the Inside: The Ezine in August 2004. It has since been published in my first book, Write from the Inside: Dig for Treasures, Discover Yourself, Leave a Legacy, copyright 2006. The audience referred to was ~400 ezine readers, not a live audience.
