A Salute to our Veterans
On this November 11th, 2011, we, at OutRival Racing, want to express our deepest gratitude to those who have served or are currently serving in one of our nation's military branches. We also recognize that families of our soliders, both former and current, deserve a heartfelt "Thank You" as well. For many of us, this is a day to sleep in and enjoy the company of friends and family - all while taking advantage of the freedoms provided by those who protect our nation each and every day. Let us never forget those that have given their lives and those who have committed their lives to America's freedom - a freedom that has, and always will, come at a great price. Please join us in thanking our current soldiers, remembering our fallen, and loving those who have lost...for we have all been given, yet another day, to wake up in this great nation and call America our home.


OutRival Racing Veterans
         Bob Maus, Navy                               Richard Tramm, Marines
Bradley Pigage, Coast Guard             Rick Parker, Navy
       Kelley Golden, Navy                           Rick Wilson, Air Force
      Lisa Jaster, Army                               Shawn Kirk, Air Force
           Michelle LeBlanc, Air Force               Stephen Johnson, Marines

A Veterans Day Poem
The Patriot
At the close of the day, an old cowboy sets
kinda quiet in the old porch swing.
Now and then he'll softly whistle a tune,
or maybe he'll start to sing.
Then he'll change his mind and waggle his head,
and close his eyes in thought.
He thinks of Korea, the war over there,
and some of the lessons it taught.
When his gaze wanders over to the nearby hills,
he recalls how they look when it snows.
He studies the flag that he raised this mornin',
how it moves when the west wind blows.
If you look real close you'll see that a tear
gives a hint of some inner strife.
His mind's eye's seein' the faces of friends,
who long ago left this life.
The flag waves gently in the sunset sky,
and the old man raises his chin.
In his mind he's hearin' the sound of drums,
and he waits for the tune to begin.
When it does, his step is strong and brisk,
as he marches out to the flag.
He stops and stands there, watchin' it wave,
wipes his eyes with a pocket rag.
He continues his march to the old corral,
where his Morgan comes over to talk.
He saddles him up, and climbs on top,
and heads him out for a walk.
On a hill, he wonders if the whole blamed thing
was worth all the friends he lost.
Headin' home, he knows down deep in his heart,
he too, would have paid the cost.
Yeah, he shared the peril, but he returned
to his home in the sand and the sage.
Then, back at his flag, he thanks all his pards
for lettin' him reach old age.
© 2004, Hal Swift
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

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