Always a marine, even out of uniform

In making last-minute preparations for a surprise birthday party for my fiancee, I went to a gas station in Arlington Heights for five bags of ice. I’m a widow and never before bore this task, so I didn’t know what a manly job it could be.

I waited my turn then asked the clerk if he had ice. He pointed to a freezer at the back of the store and said, “Yes, it’s self-serve.”

Unsuspecting, I paid for the merchandise and then went back to a nightmare of trying to claim it. I shoved, pulled and tugged, finally releasing only one bag from the frozen solid mound. Now I was the sole customer in the store, so I called to the clerk, “Could you help me, I can’t get these out?”

He apparently didn’t understand me and waved me off with his hand. I figured I could take my business to a more accommodating store, so I walked up front to get my money back. Now the clerk doesn’t want to do a refund, again he insists, “It’s self-serve.”

Suddenly, in walks another man, who demands to know, “What’s going on here?” I was near tears, but calmly explained the situation.

With a take-charge, no-nonsense flair, the casually-clad gentleman said, “You stay right there, young lady,” went to the fridge and slammed those puppies free. He carried them to the front of the store then asked which car was mine: He also loaded them for me.

After the ice was stowed in my trunk, he stood erect, saluted and said, “U.S. Marine Corps, at your service.” I really wanted to kiss him, mostly for the rescue, but also for the “young lady” part.

Instead, I saluted back and beamed, “Semper Fi”.

God bless our armed forces; even out of uniform, they serve and protect every aspect of our lives.

Maureen Hellman

Arlington Heights