At My Purple Heart Ceremony, My Stepmother Swung a Folding Chair Into My Arm—Then My Father Looked Down Instead of Protecting Me
That helped more than:
You can do this.
We walked slowly.
No one made me approach the stage.
I chose to.
Near the front, General Campbell held a small velvet presentation box.
My Purple Heart.
I had kept it at home for months, but public affairs had briefly borrowed it for cleaning and replacement of the damaged ribbon hardware after the incident.