A lot of the best afterlife evidence was produced nearly a century ago by English-speaking boys who died in Europe in World War I and then communicated through a few extraordinary mediums. Like those who go to Iraq and Afghanistan today, they ventured to a distant land to fight a threat to their homeland there and keep it far from those they loved. And they were young! Some of them died in their teens. Had they lived, they would by now have died of old age. But most of them gave up even the chance to marry and have children and grandchildren in order that you and I and all our descendants might have the chance to forever live free. There is a special place in my heart for those WW I doughboys. Not only did they give their all so young, but then afterward some of them performed an extraordinary further service for us in first really opening our minds to the greater reality that they found after death.
In gratitude to them, and in gratitude to all the other warriors who have fallen for our freedom, I am going to recite here again the poem that I memorized for my small-town Memorial Day celebration when I was maybe ten years old:
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be it yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who died
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
My prayer is that we will today really take up their torch, and redouble our efforts to protect forever the personal freedom for all humankind that they died to give us!


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