A few years ago, I saw Bob Dole at a restaurant in Washington, D.C. He was seated in a wheel chair. I tapped on his shoulder to pay my respects, and though his body was frail and falling apart, his mind was sharp. He heartily shook my hand and started a conversation about some budgetary issue that was on his mind, and I was shocked and truly flattered that he remembered who I was. I wouldn’t have normally bothered him while he was eating dinner with two guests, but I wanted to tell him that my dad, who was then 91 years old, also a World War 2 vet, and served in the Pacific, was a huge admirer of the Senator for his heroic service.

Dole asked: “What is your father’s name, and what is his phone number?” The next day my dad got a call from Bob Dole and it was one of the highlights of his remaining days.

That was Bob Dole – one of our great modern-day patriot at a time when the spoiled-rotten woke crowd shamefully hasn’t a clue what the words patriotism and service mean. Most of them have never been taught about what the Greatest Generation did to truly save the planet – and I’m not talking about climate change.

By the way, that wasn’t the last time I saw Bob Dole. A few months later I was strolling past the Word War 2 memorial and saw a man in a wheel chair surrounded by a small crowd of veterans. Dole spent many of his last days parked at the entrance of the Memorial greeting hundreds upon hundreds of the veterans he had served with. A true band of brothers. I’m sure his presence there meant the world to them too.