There used to be a U.S. Army Reserve Center on St. John’s University’s Campus, down the street from my childhood home in Jamaica, Queens, New York.
When I was a little kid, I would watch as men dressed in army fatigues walked past my house and over the small path that separated our dead-end street from the Center.
The reservists came once a month to honor their duties. Their presence taught me that war was part of life and they had made a commitment to serve their country.
On summer days when the Reservists were not in session, I would walk past the Center with my mother and pick the wild daisies that grew on their front lawn.