On this Memorial Day, I acknowledge my deep respect for anyone who served or serves in the US Military. I did not as my draft number was high enough to not be called during Viet Nam. My dad served during World War II and my grandfather - the reason for my post - enlisted during WWI and was awarded two Purple Hearts fighting in northeastern France to free Belgium from German occupation. Pop's lungs were seared for the rest of his life due to the mustard gas. Yet, he still smoked. Different times. Until I was almost two, I lived in a Bronx apartment with him, my grandmother, my parents, my brother, and my great grandmother.

My grandfather, an only child, was born in Manhattan and raised in the Bronx. His childhood friend was Dutch Schultz, the Prohibition-era Jewish mobster who was whacked by the Mafia Commission in 1935 for not standing down after planning the murder of New York Special Prosecutor Thomas E. Dewey. My grandfather was Dutch's chauffeur for a while but was smart enough to move on.

In his shadow box among the Purple Hearts and personal mementos hangs his last watch; a deco Bulova that I believe is "The Revere." The watch dates from the late 1930s and houses a standard 10AE caliber in manual wind, seven jewels with sub seconds. The hands are frozen at 5:06 and the dial has a tropical patina.

I often wonder about vintage watch stories; the cool places they've been on the wrist and how they end up where they do. I suspect many of us are guardians of a relative's watch. I think this one is pretty cool and I admire it from time to time for its obvious connection to a personal hero.

To all military members; thank you for what you do. I'm not sure you will ever get enough in return for the sacrifices military families make.