The idea is to put a face on democracy. To attach a name to a life of honor.
So the Pinellas County Supervisor of Elections office came up with a program to include short bios of local military veterans in voter registration forms given to high school seniors. Inspiration, you might call it. A dignified plea to link America's greatest freedom to her greatest sacrifices.
Or, in the case of Larry Phelan, to tell the story of a generation receding from view.
He wakes early, and alone, each day in his Safety Harbor home. He's on the road by 6 a.m. in his 2011 Mustang and driving 20 miles or so to the C.W. Bill Young VA Medical Center where the one-time soldier from the Army's 1st Infantry Division volunteers five days a week.
The top of his head is forever bandaged from multiple bouts of melanoma, and he points to all the spots on his face repaired by skin grafts from his shoulders and thighs. The collarbone broken by an artillery blast in Africa in 1942 was never properly fixed, and he almost never thinks about the through-and-through bullet hole in his side.
More than 70 years ago, he left the battlefields of World War II behind with a Silver Star, a Bronze Star, three Purple Hearts and memories both atrocious and affirming.
He is 96 now, and jokes about undertakers following him daily.
And still Capt. Larry Phelan lives with a soldier's sensibility.
"I was very blessed to be with the best division in the whole U.S. Army,'' Phelan said. "You think I was special? Everybody around me was doing the same thing.''
There is not an ounce of bravado in the old man's words. Not when he talks about enlisting nearly a year before Pearl Harbor and reporting to Plattsburgh, N.Y. to earn $21 a month. ("The snow was higher than the damn train, and I thought: this might have been a mistake.'') And not when he talks of entering the water as the second wave of soldiers to hit Omaha Beach on D-Day. ("You grab your ass and run like crazy for cover.'')
He offers no tales of glory, nor of heroics. Instead he talks of duty, obligation and the implicit responsibility of protecting one another's back.
And, in a way, that's what he's still doing today.
Having retired in the 1980s after a long career in the airline industry, first in his native New York and later in Tampa, he began volunteering at the VA hospital more than 20 years ago. At one time, that meant daily visits to soldiers in the hospital. Eventually, he used his position with the VFW to be a fundraiser. These days, he has his own desk at the VA and handles any special requests that come his way.
"He really is incredible,'' said Kelley Anderson, assistant chief of voluntary services at the VA. "He's a piece of living history right in front of us.''
On Friday morning, the man of history was telling ribald jokes and laughing gently. His is, by no means, a perfect life. He's fought often, drank excessively and spent more than a night or two behind bars. He gave marriage a shot three different times before coming to the conclusion that he was no good at it.
Keep up with Tampa Bay’s top headlines
Subscribe to our free DayStarter newsletter
You’re all signed up!
Want more of our free, weekly newsletters in your inbox? Let’s get started.
Explore all your optionsHe talks of these things not in regret, but with a sense of wonder. Almost as if he's amazed to have survived it all relatively unscathed.
Eventually, the conversation turns to the ceremonial first pitch he was scheduled to throw at the Rays game Friday night as a representative of that Vote in Honor of a Vet program in the elections office. It was his colleagues at the VA who volunteered his bio for the voter registration drive, and Phelan almost seems uneasy about the attention.
I ask him what people should recall of his generation of soldiers, and for the first time in an hourlong conversation he goes silent.
Finally, he talks of sacrifice.
"After you've been involved in combat and you start getting new guys coming in the unit, you don't get too involved with anyone because you never know how long any of you will be there,'' he said. "All of sudden you'll turn around and say 'Where's Freddy?' And he's gone. He's gone.''
The day will eventually come when they will all be gone.
Let us remember them, both now and forever.