June 6, 1944, the day allied troops crossed the English Channel and stormed the beaches of Normandy, France. My father was part of that invasion and landed on Omaha Beach. He passed away 15 years ago but I remember the pride he had as he spoke of serving in the army during this horrific time in world history. He lost a leg when he stepped on a German landmine and returned home with a new appreciation for life and no regrets of his time of service. He helped many amputees who came to the Veteran’s Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah after their service in later wars. He was an example to me of not letting his disability stop him from pursuing his dreams. My grandchildren will not have the opportunity to meet this brave man on this earth but they will know of him from the memories and stories I share with them.