This past Friday I attended the funeral of my wife's uncle, John Rouse Jr. or little John as he was known. I had known John for 17 years and always enjoyed speaking with him at family gatherings. John was a big guy, and when he was on his Harley in his leathers, he looked downright intimidating. Until he smiled. When you saw that smile you felt instantly at ease.
He was a member of the Viet Nam Vets Motorcycle Club. They were a second family to both he and his wife Rhonda. A great bunch of people, all of them.
They told stories of little Johns involvement in 'Stand Down', an event where homeless vets can come in off the streets and get help of all kind, not only a hot meal and warm change of clothes, but legal advice, a new pair of glasses, counseling, and help getting back into the mainstream of life. A few of the people John and his brothers from VNVMC helped back on their feet spoke at the memorial service, it was truly touching. I knew of John's involvement in the club and his service in Viet Nam, but I never knew how many lives he touched, and what a difference he made.
I wish I had known John Rouse Jr. better.
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