"In 1939, the Nazis took over their town in Holland and my father's family would live under Nazi rule until the Americans liberated them in May of 1945. My grandfather was a coalminer and my grandparents also farmed to help support their 11 children during the War. My grandfather was a member of the Dutch Resistance, kept a secret radio in the cellar and worked to help the Americans in any way he could. Dad  said that one time a neighbor that had begun helping the Nazis (the Dutch called the traitors NSBers) came to their door, and my grandfather threw him out. They lived in fear for the next few days waiting for the Nazis to come and take the whole family away.

My father would tell us stories about the American soldiers coming through their town, sharing their supplies with the children like chocolate (which was a major treat), field rations and giving cigarettes to the older family members. The field rations were a welcome change because sometimes all my father's family had to eat was lima and kidney beans; to this day he won't eat either because that's all they had to eat for days; it even got so bad that toward the end of the War some parts of Holland had to eat tulip bulbs to survive.

Sometimes the soldiers would stay at their home. My father's family didn't have much, but they were so grateful to the Americans that they were willing to share whatever they had. I loved hearing the stories about the War, and I still do. Dad still has an amazing memory, Now, when Dad tells the stories, I write them down, because I don't want to forget a single detail. I want to make sure these memories are preserved for my children and my children's children.

After meeting the American soldiers in Holland, my father knew he wanted to come to the United States and become an American citizen. Who wouldn't? What a great country whose citizens would cross the ocean to help others defeat an unspeakable evil! To this day, the Dutch citizens still honor the memory of the American soldiers who gave the ultimate sacrifice and remain in Holland. The largest American cemetery outside of the United States is located in Margraten, Holland; and the Dutch adopt each grave of an American soldier and decorate it in reverence and thanks even 60 years later.

Growing up, to hear my father talk, the American soldiers were like superheroes. They were always held in the highest regard in our home; up on a pedestal. He would say to my sister and I "You girls are so lucky to be born in the greatest country in the world. Don't ever forget that. America is the best country on Earth." This past July 4th, as we stood in my parents' back yard, we could see fireworks in the distance, and a neighbor had an American flag that was illuminated and was standing straight out in the breeze; it was a beautiful sight; my father said. "This country has been so good to me; it has given me s much. I have a good marriage (50 years), 2 beautiful daughters who have good husbands, 4 wonderful grandchildren, a nice house, I have more than I ever dreamed possible, thanks to this country."

And World War II soldiers are heroes. You are America's heroes. You are my father's heroes. You are my heroes. If not for your sacrifice in liberating Europe, I would not be here today. Thank you for going across the ocean to defeat evil. I know your actions and heroism changed the lives of many, but in particular, one Dutch boy.

I am honored and humbled just to be in your presence. And so, on behalf of my father, I wanted to say, 'Thank you' and for myself, I wanted to say 'Thank you'.

God Bless you all and God Blass America."