The Supreme Sacrifice

May we honor all those men and women who have given their lives in service to our country. 

My uncle, Sam Coursen, was killed in the Korean War and awarded the Medal of Honor, posthumously. His wife, my Aunt Evie, accepted the award in his stead, with my cousin, Sam Coursen Jr. in her arms (see below). 

Here is his citation:

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress  March 3, 1863 has awarded in the name of The Congress the Medal of Honor, posthumously, to

First Lieutenant Samuel S. Coursen, USA

for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty in action with the enemy:

Lieutenant Coursen, Infantry, United States Army, Company C, 5th Calvary Regiment, distinguished himself by conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity  above and beyond the call of duty in action on 12 October 1950 near Kaesong,  Korea. While Company C was attacking Hill 174 under heavy enemy small arms  fire, his platoon received enemy fire from close range. The platoon returned  the fire and continued to advance. During this phase, one of his men moved  into a well-camouflaged emplacement, which was thought to be unoccupied, and  was wounded by enemy who were hidden within the emplacement. Seeing the  soldier in difficulty he rushed to the man's aid and, without regard for his  own personal safety, engaged the enemy in hand-to-hand combat in an effort to  protect his wounded comrade until he himself was killed. When his body was  recovered after the battle, seven enemy dead were found in the emplacement.  Several of the enemies' heads had been crushed as the result of Lieutenant  Coursen's violent struggle with his rifle. His aggressive and intrepid  actions saved the life of the wounded man, eliminated the main position of  the enemy roadblock and greatly inspired the men in his command. Lieutenant  Coursen's extraordinary heroism and intrepidity reflect the highest credit on himself and are in keeping with the honored traditions of the military service.

(signed) Harry Truman

For more information on Sam Coursen's life, go here.

Speak Up! Speak Out!

Student assembly address:

The Emperor’s New Clothes is a Danish fairy tale by Hans Christian Anderson, first published in 1837. You remember the story:

Many years ago there lived an emperor who cared only about his clothes and about showing them off. One day he heard from two swindlers that they could make the finest suit of clothes from the most beautiful cloth. This cloth, they said, was magic: it was invisible to anyone who was either stupid or not fit for his position. 

Being a bit nervous about whether he himself would be able to see the cloth, the emperor first sent two of his trusted men to see it. Of course, neither would admit that they could not see the cloth and so they praised how beautiful it was.

The emperor then allowed himself to be dressed in the clothes for a procession through town, never admitting that he was too unfit and stupid to see what he was wearing. For he was afraid that the other people would think that he was stupid.

Of course, all the townspeople wildly praised the magnificent clothes of the emperor, afraid to admit that they could not see them, until a small child said:

"But he has nothing on"!

This was whispered from person to person until everyone in the crowd was shouting that the emperor had nothing on. The emperor, too, realized he had been duped by the swindlers, but marched on with his head held high. He became the laughing stock of everyone in the village.

There’s a lot of truth to this story, isn’t there? Because we are so concerned about what others think of us, we often go along with the crowd and pretend to believe, say or do things publicly that we don’t really believe privately.

It often takes the clear voice of one person—in this case, a child—to “break the ice,” and say plainly what everyone is really thinking. And here’s the interesting thing: Once someone has the courage to say the truth, it gives everybody else the ability to admit what they were privately thinking, but were afraid to say out loud. One courageous voice, it turns out, ends up making a lot of difference.

One of the temptations of getting older is to become conformists—to lose our individuality so as to be part of the crowd, part of the socially acceptable group. And so, whereas God created us with really unique talents and unique views, whereas he made us to be really interesting people, we slowly, inevitably become like everyone else. In other words, we slowly become boring.

That’s not what I want for you here at JPII. Be creative. Speak up. Propose new things.  Mina Adeeb didn’t like what one of our speakers at the Colloquium said a couple weeks ago, and so after the talk, he came up and argued with him. I thought that was awesome. Keeley Bryan felt badly for Jessica Myers, the 5^th grade girl from St. Joseph who has a cancerous tumor, so she asked if she could raise money here to support here. Daniel Al Nimri wanted to do something to support the cause of Mr. Mila, whose son has Cystic Fibrosis, so he proposed a “No-Shave November.” Jordan Lee came in a bit later and said the girls wanted to also support Cystic Fibrosis and proposed Crazy Sock November.

That’s the kind of school I want at JPII. Maybe I can’t approve everything you want to do; sometimes, there’s so much going on here, I have to say “no” to protect our most important task—learning—but I like the fact you’re thinking creatively, individually, willing to shake things up some, willing to call things out.  Be respectful of others, and respectful of your teachers, but be yourself. It makes for an infinitely more interesting school.

The Nine Others

Student assembly address:

The reading this Sunday at Church was about the ten lepers who were cured by Jesus, but only one person came back to say “thanks.” The other nine simply went about their lives. There’s a pretty strong challenge in there for you and I whom have been given so much. 

It’s easy, though, isn’t it, to take it for granted?

In the spring of 2008, I was hired by the Board to become headmaster of JPII.  Previous to that I was a principal in Montgomery, AL, about a five-hour drive from here. As part of the series of interviews, I had to come up here three different times, and after I was hired, the Board wanted me to come to two separate events to meet people. Spring is a busy time for schools, and I remember the fifth time as I was driving up, I had a hundred things going on at my old school, and I remember being stressed and irritated that I had to come yet again with the work piling up. Our house wasn’t sold yet, I hadn’t spent much time with my daughter who was a senior that year and going to college in the fall, and yes, I was feeling a little sorry for myself.

I stopped off to get some gas—I think it was in Franklin—when an old beat up looking man drove up to the gas pump in a beat up pick-up truck and said to me “Hey, fella, I’m out of money, could you spare ten bucks to help me with some gas?” Suspicious he was really out just to get money for alcohol, I said, “When I go in and pay, I’ll put ten dollars on your pump.”  So I did. When I came out, the man looked toward me, embarrassed, head down, and said “Gratitude.”

As I drove off, I began thinking about what the old guy said, “Gratitude,” and being a bit unnerved by it, almost like God was talking to me directly. Here you are, God was saying, with a wonderful wife, four great kids, just hired to be the leader of one of the best Catholic high schools in the country and you’re feeling sorry for myself? How about taking a step back and seeing the big picture? How about some gratitude?

I think that’s a challenge for all of us. We’ve been given so many extraordinary things, beginning with our families, but extending to our friends, our teachers, our school, the fact that our families have a little money that allow us to enjoy good things--and yet, it’s so easy to start feeling sorry for ourselves. It’s so easy for that green-eyed monster, jealousy, to seep into how we see the world--jealous of people who are prettier, wealthier, more personable, more popular, even luckier, than us

Fr. Thomas said in Church yesterday there are two kinds of people in this world: Those who wake up every morning and said, “Good morning, God!” and those who say, “Good God, morning.” Let us be the kind of people who are grateful to be here at JPII, grateful to be a student here, to be a teacher here, to be on staff here, to be a principal here.  There are too many people that are “woe is me” mopers in this world,  and they suck joy out of all the people they associate with, almost like the dementors from Harry Potter. Let’s be the opposite!

Let us be people of gratitude who can say, as one person once prayed, “God, for all that has been in my life, thank you. For all that will be, yes!”