Most Americans do not exercise their right to vote, presumably finding more reasons not to vote than to do so.

Two weeks ago I attended the funeral of my Uncle Bob in Birmingham, Alabama. He passed away quietly at age 90. His two last wishes were granted. He wanted to be with his wife Katherine to whom he had been totally devoted for over 65 years of marriage, and who had preceded him in death just two years earlier, and he wanted to die at home. Robert L. McGraw was one of Tom Brokaw's Greatest Generation. His story would never have made the pages of the Rocky Mountain News, The New York Times, or the Washington Post; but it is a remarkable story nonetheless.

He enlisted in the Marine Corp in 1944. He was 28 years old, married with a 4 year old son and an infant daughter. His wife was in the grocery store when a friend said, "I hear Bob has joined the Marines." She, of course confirmed the truth of this assertion when she returned home. The Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor and Bob McGraw needed to take action to protect his country and his family. Less than a year later, serving with the Sixth Marine Division, he lost his left eye to an enemy sniper in the jungles of Okinawa. Had the bullet not passed through a fellow Marine before lodging in his eye he would certainly have died within seconds. Bob McGraw was, you see, 5 ft. 4 in. tall and his colleague was over 6 ft.

Returning home in 1945 with two purple hearts, he returned to work at U.S. Steel as a metallurgist, retiring in 1978, after 42 years of service. He became a respected member of the Marine Corp League and attended Blessed Sacrament Church for over 50 years. He donated untold hours coaching youth baseball, football and basketball. He began the first Little League group in Birmingham and over the years he was actively involved in Little League and Dixie Youth baseball. His teams won a remarkable three National Dixie Youth baseball Series World Championships. As a coach and mentor he became a legend at John Carroll High School, where he will continue to be remembered for innovative plays and insistence on excellence on and off the field.

Every young man needs a role model or mentor. Coach McGraw made a tremendous impact on and helped develop the character of thousands of youngsters through the years. Many of these men, now in their 50s and 60s came to eulogize him at his funeral service. His sense of humor at times was ribald but always self deprecating. Several years ago his glass eye began to fall out at unexpected moments. His doctor explained that the muscles in his eye socket had relaxed and he needed to perform a graft to tighten them. A small piece of muscle was taken from his buttocks and fitted into his eye socket. Uncle Bob lost no opportunity in telling his friends and family that he really had become a butthead.

As a young boy my brother and I would beg Uncle Bob to take his eye out for us. He would refuse but then, at the most unexpected time, he would do it; throwing us into fits of laughter and panic. The men he coached in Little League recall that he only removed his eye if he thought he might be able to intimidate an umpire.

My Uncle Bob was a kind and generous father and faithful husband, always putting his family first. His "business card" at annual Marine Corp League Conventions read, "Family man, Marine, Auburn fan, and retired steel worker."

Appropriately he was afforded a full Marine Corp Honor Guard funeral service. This was quite a remarkable event and for me a unique and memorable experience. It is impossible to measure the impact of a man like my Uncle Bob on his family, his friends, his community, and ultimately his country. He went to war and risked everything he had to assure me the freedom to vote. He can no longer cast a vote himself, so, when election time comes around, I cast my vote for Uncle Bob.