My grandfather, Joseph Backfield, came from what we now call “The Greatest Generation.” It’s easy to look around at the world today and fall into despair at how far we’ve drifted from that generation’s self-sacrifice, heroism, and character, to feel powerless against the evils of totalitarianism and globalism that surround us. I even find relief that he and most of his generation are not alive now to see the state of our country. How have we gotten to this point? How do we fight it? There are many answers, but one I have found I learned from my grandfather: and that is understanding and living out true freedom.
My grandfather, being Jewish, was always known to us by the Yiddish form, Zeyde. His parents immigrated from Russia, and Ellis Island changed their surname from Barpel to Backfield. Zeyde grew up in Brooklyn and his childhood was passed during the Great Depression. Like many immigrants during this time, his father had to do what he could not only provide for his children but also to send what money possible to family still living in the Old World.
Zeyde’s teenage years had the economic poverty of depression barely behind them and World War II on the horizon, a landscape void of the angst and rebellion today’s surplus of comfort provides. Without the ability to have everything you want, you stop focusing on getting what you want and you start working towards doing what you should. And that was the attitude of Zeyde when he enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps as a young man. When asked later in his life why he enlisted, which he did three times, he said, “The first time for patriotism, the second for adventure, and the third for security.”
Freedom, for him, didn’t mean doing whatever you want. It meant fulfilling your responsibilities. His sense of patriotism was born from a proper sense of freedom—that each individual has obligations to the greater good. According to today’s definition, Zeyde was shackled; his freedom totally infringed on by the demands of duty.
Here I see part of the answer to the question, “How have we gotten to this point?” Too many Americans have accepted the falsehood that freedom means the fulfillment of desire. It’s an enticing lie, and it’s everywhere. However, far from free, our world has simply become a slave to its wants and egos. So blinded by self-satisfaction, many don’t know what being fulfilled really means—that it comes from participating in something greater than yourself.
I was 11 when he and my grandmother moved in due to declining health. Many times, I would bring Zeyde his cup of coffee in the morning and chat with him. I remember him as a thickset, older man whose strength was beginning to wane, wearing a veteran baseball cap, patriotic t-shirt, and a windbreaker with my father’s lawn maintenance company logo on it. There was a particular t-shirt he wore often that puzzled me as a child and has made me reflect as an adult. The American flag waves beautifully with silhouettes of soldiers and below, the phrase, “Freedom Isn’t Free.” When I asked my mother what it meant, she said, “Freedom isn’t free because it comes with a cost: People died for our freedom, for our rights.” And here lies the answer to “How do we fight the evil in the world today?” Freedom is a right fought for; we cannot continue living and expecting it to always be there. It’s not free for the taking; it is a gift, bought by the blood and sweat of those who came before us. And as a gift, freedom must be cherished and protected.
I never knew Zeyde to be anything but humble and gracious. The noble sacrifices and honorable lives of the men and women of his generation were not trophies to parade around for reward; they saw it as a moral obligation to their country and to mankind. Despite being a Bronze Star Medal recipient, World War II and Vietnam vet, I never once heard Zeyde boast. His humility taught me that sacrifice is ordinary, and it’s the mode of freedom. In order to fight for freedom and pass it on, we must acknowledge, with gratitude, that we only have freedom because of the sacrifice of those who came before us. Gratitude is always humbling, and humility urges us to look beyond our own selves. It’s not the only way to fight for freedom, but it is the first step in doing that because, by practicing humility and gratitude, we will be able to sacrifice for our children.
We don’t live in the same world as “The Greatest Generation.” Our sacrifices are not going to look the same. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t things we can imitate. If we actively instill a sense of gratitude for our freedom, rather than focusing on it as something we are owed without a cost, we will be able to fight for it better. It will humble us, which in turn will help us fulfill our duties to God, country, family, and self. It’s easy to get caught in the trap that, in order to make a change, we must do something big and great, yet it’s the small choices and sacrifices we make each day to the people around us that will ultimately bring about any change in our society. Zeyde’s humility towards what most people would consider high achievements has taught me that sacrifice and hard work are not the exception; they should be the standard. His constant spirit of gratitude taught me that all the goods in my life are gifts, oftentimes undeserved and unasked for. This consciousness creates a foundation to live authentically and virtuously.
Upon being asked what his greatest contribution to society was, Zeyde didn’t say fighting two wars or earning the Bronze Medal. Instead, he said his children and grandchildren.
Is there a family member who has positively impacted your life? American Essence invites you to share about your family roots and the lessons passed down from generation to generation. We welcome you to send your submission to: [email protected]
This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.
