I’ve read that the American Legion, the nationwide veterans organization, is in decline. But I was recently introduced to the Legion, and it surprised me with its lively and welcoming atmosphere. Or perhaps I should say “reintroduced.” Legionnaires were on hand when my Army unit returned from Afghanistan in 2005, and I was honored to have earned the right to join. After all, back in tiny Dysart, Iowa, where I grew up, they had marched the American flag down Main Street, leading every Fourth of July parade. But my local Legion post back in Iowa wasn’t very active, and I let my membership lapse.
Renewing my membership after so long was a little tricky. It’s easy to do online if you know your membership number, but I didn’t, so I called customer service. I was asked my name and instantly, the woman on the phone knew my address and my old Legion number. Weird. I’d moved twice since my membership lapsed and hadn’t told them my new address. But at least I could get back in the Legion. Next, I called the closest chapter, Post 72 in Cheney, Washington. Heather, the bartender, invited me to come in with a confirmation email, promising to take care of the rest.
As I walked in on a foggy night, I thought the place would be empty, but there were a dozen people gathered there. Heather smiled from behind the bar, remembering our phone conversation once I’d introduced myself. She poured me a beer and took care of the minor membership paperwork.
It was a cool old bar, with a red-carpet front, a worn, red cushion along the edge of the countertop, and a brass foot rail. Behind the bar, the top shelf liquor wasn’t very top shelf, but there were several baskets of pull-tab gambling cards. Classic rock was playing. It was the kind of small-town environment I knew well.
Everybody was very friendly. In the first 15 minutes, at least three people picked up the bar tab for three others. Eventually, Pam Bumpas of the American Legion Auxiliary sat next to me. She declined my offer of some of the cashews I’d ordered and asked why I was writing in my notebook. I explained I was researching for my column in the Washington Examiner.
Pam lamented that people don’t seem to be interested in joining clubs and giving back to the community anymore. But I was impressed with what I’d seen in the Post 72 bar. And, generally speaking, I’m incredibly optimistic about America’s future.
That optimism was reinforced when I was introduced to Alex Johnson, the Post 72 commander. Now in his early 30s, Johnson once served in the Marine Reserves, with a tour in Iraq in 2007–08. We traded war stories, and he welcomed me with great enthusiasm, introducing me to one Legionnaire and Auxiliary member after another.
The American Legion, of course, is far more than just a bar. This year, it celebrated its 100th anniversary of work in service to veterans, servicemen, and communities. Alex gave me a tour of Post 72. The place keeps two ceremonial tables set in honor of prisoners of war and those missing in action. I was impressed to learn Post 72 has been active in its current location since 1919. Its original charter is framed on the wall.
Johnson is an energetic man, full of hope and ideas for breathing new life into the organization. He and I agreed that, due to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, America has no shortage of veterans to help make the Legion even better.
Veterans of my generation, of all generations, it’s time to come home to the American Legion.
Trent Reedy served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
