Watch: The Presence of Greatness

Whenever I talk to anyone who fought in any military conflict, they all say the same thing to me – the real heroes are the ones who never made it back. They are the ones who should be honored and they are the ones who should be remembered.

Tom Kelley says that, too. Always.

Tom grew up in Boston, went to Holy Cross, joined the Navy, and fought in Vietnam. It was there, while out on a river patrol, that he almost lost his life. His group was ambushed, he lost an eye and part of his skull when a rocket propelled grenade exploded a few feet away from him. While lying in his boat with a gaping head wound, he ordered a series of tactical maneuvers that managed to avoid additional bloodshed, and got them out from under the ambush. Most of his crew thought Tom wasn’t going to make it. But somehow, he did.

For his valor and his leadership in the face of enemy attack, Tom received the Medal of Honor – this country’s highest military honor. He went on to complete a distinguished Navy career, and then became a spectacular Secretary of Veterans Services here in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, a position he held for ten years under three Governors.

But if you talk to Tom about his own career of service, he will inevitably turn the conversation toward the people he’s worked with to improve the lives of those in uniform. That has always been his approach. A few years ago, he showed up in a book I was reading called “Beyond Glory,” which contained interviews with 24 Medal of Honor recipients. Tom’s comments there were quite consistent with others I’ve heard him make over the years:

“I don’t consider the Medal my personal property. As a recipient, I feel I am wearing it to represent all the men and women who have served over the years with the same dedication and courage…It did make me aware of my responsibilities as a recipient – talking to kids, trying to instill the values of service, courage, honor and duty – but I certainly don’t dwell on the events of 35 years ago. That was 30 minutes out of my life. And it came and went and life goes on. I’ve led a wonderful life since then.”

Tom thinks he's a lucky guy. And maybe he is. I would bet that almost all of the men and women who serve in combat and make it back home feel the same way. In their minds, they ARE the lucky ones. I attended the 4th annual Boston Wounded Veterans Motorcycle Ride in April, and one of the honorees was a Marine who had lost his legs in an IED explosion. He looked out at the crowd and said, simply, “It’s because of people like you that I have no regrets about what happened to me.”

Service. Courage. Duty. Honor. Words to live by.