Here is a video tribute to Ryan
http://memorial.yourtribute.com/RyanKranwinkle
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
"Crusin" 1990 ~ 2009 Ryan Lee Kranwinkle born June 5, 1990 to Lyman and Vicki Kranwinkle.Ryan passed away aboard the Coral Princess pursuing his dream of going thru the Panama Canal on 29 Jan 2009 at 02:55 LT at sea 08deg 33.8'N 079 deg 29.2W. If Ryan had lived four more hours he would have been put off in Panama at the first lock second gate and taken to the hospital. Ryan being himself found a way to complete the transit of the canal. Ryan loved to see different places and learn about new things whether it was on TV or in person and during his last quest he saw four different countries. Ryan's favorite sport was NASCAR and was able to visit DAYTONA last year. What Ryan probably loved the most were his pugs Bear and Cub, they will miss him. We would like to thank everyone who helped Ryan achieve what he did and those who helped care for him. Ryan was a senior at Riverton High School. We would also like to thank Captain Mariano Manfuso and crew of the Coral Princess for making Ryan's last trip so special but especially to Dr. Grant Lindsay and the medical team on the Coral Princess for their excellent care and comfort to Ryan. Preceded in death by brothers Brad and Marc, Grandma and Grandpa Peterson, Grandpa Kranwinkle. Survived by parents, Grandma Kranwinkle, many aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
A word of Thanks and some Turkey Trivia
Thank you to all my friends and family. I am so thankful for everyone in my life. Without you my life would not be complete. Thanks for all of your love and support. I am thankful also for the country that I live in, my 3 sons, my husband, my home, and most of all for you!Just some turkey trivia for you - and yours
And may you all have a safe and fun Thanksgiving!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
What is a Veteran?
Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking. He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel. He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel. She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang. He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL. He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs. He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand. He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by. He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor diesunrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep. He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come. He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs. He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU".
Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking. He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel. He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel. She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang. He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL. He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs. He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand. He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by. He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor diesunrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep. He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come. He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs. He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)