The Class of 2022 was in for a surprise when they celebrated their graduation at the Springdale School District. In addition to honoring the recent graduates, the event paid respect to four exceptional veterans who, had they not decided to serve in the military, would have graduated in 1956. Known by their endearing nickname, “super seniors,” Carl Stults, Bobby Burke, Charles Leroy Moon, and Bob Self were among the veterans who received honorary diplomas with the graduating seniors.
These four young guys were all seniors in high school in 1956, yet none of them graduated from Springdale High School. Carl Self revealed, “Springdale didn’t recognize the GED at the time, but I took a test when I joined the Air Force. I eventually graduated from Little Rock Central with a diploma. It wasn’t until they got together for lunch one day that the school district learned about their missing diplomas.
The Class of 2022 was delighted to learn that these “super seniors” will be participating in the graduation ceremony. It was a lesson in sacrifice and honor as much as a celebration of their accomplishment. Jared Cleveland, the superintendent of Springdale, delivered sentimental letters honoring the heroes’ bravery and devotion from U.S. Representative Steve Womack and Governor Asa Hutchinson during the ceremony.
They served both during and after the Korean War, according to Womack. They weren’t thinking about themselves or asking themselves, “What about me?” at the time. They performed their duty. Isn’t that the authentic essence of America? The instructors paused to recognize the outstanding accomplishments that each veteran has made since enlisting in the Air Force in 1956.
These four extraordinary guys finally earned their long-awaited diplomas from their alma mater, after 66 years. It was a just reward for all of their hard work. “Once a Bulldog, Always a Bulldog,” as the saying goes.
Greetings on your honorary diplomas, Bob Self, Charles Leroy Moon, Bobby Burke, and Carl Stults! Their devoted dedication to our nation is incredibly admirable. We are fortunate to live in the wonderful country we do today because of courageous people like them. By sharing this story and expressing our gratitude, let’s honor these men for their incredible achievements and selflessness.
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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