The Measure of a Man, by J.H.
Not too terribly long ago, I was at work and came across a young man. (The word “young” is used as a relative term. I am 37, and this young gentleman was approximately 20.) I work for the U.S. Army on a military installation in CONUS, and this young soldier out of uniform happened into my work area to ask me a question. And the manner in which he asked me the question made my blood boil. It wasn’t that he was disrespectful or rude. By those standards he was completely polite. But he looked at my feet and muttered, …