My life has been filled with good fortune. Sure, there were obstacles to overcome as I came of age, but through it all I have been blessed beyond measure.

One of the blessings of my life has been that — to my knowledge — none of the people with whom I graduated from Parkrose High School in Portland, Ore., were lost on foreign battlefields. No one died during the Vietnam War, which was raging during the Summer of Love, in 1967, when I walked across the stage to receive my diploma.

Many of my classmates certainly could have “bought it.” They endured unimaginable combat hardship. I am thinking at this moment of Jack Estes, a Marine who has written about the terrible loss and post-traumatic stress he endures so many years later. Then there’s Dudley Young, an Army helicopter pilot who I am certain faced death many times during his time in the war zone.

There were others from our class who ventured forth after high school to do their duty for God and country. They all came home and for that I am eternally grateful.

I think, though, today of a young man I met during my own Vietnam War tour. Jose De La Torre hailed from Fullerton, Calif. I didn’t know him well. He extended his tour several times. Then he got his orders to go home. He was excited, thrilled, ready to return to “The World.” He came into our work station to give us the good news. We wished him well.

Fate got in the way.

In the spring of 1969, he scrambled for one final mission aboard his Huey helicopter. He flew into a tragic mistake. The troop lift mission wasn’t supposed to include a “hot” landing — but it did. His flight of “slicks” and gunships was hit by intense enemy fire.

De La Torre died that day.

I’ve had the high honor of seeing his name etched on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial wall in D.C. I have sought to honor his memory and the memories of all the men and women whose names are on that wall. Fifty-eight thousand-plus of them gave their “last full measure of devotion” to this great nation.

Memorial Day isn’t a holiday to celebrate. It is one in which we commemorate the sacrifices of those who fell in defense of our nation. They go back a long way, to the founding of this republic more than two centuries ago. They’re still falling today.

We should all count our blessings. I know I do. they are rich and plentiful. We also should thank the Americans who died to preserve them for us.