Ali changed his name from Cassius Clay to Muhammad Ali after joining the Nation of Islam in 1964, subsequently converting to orthodox Islam in 1975. In 1967, Ali refused to be inducted into the U.S. military based on his religious beliefs and opposition to the war in Vietnam. He was arrested and found guilty on draft evasion charges, stripped of his boxing title, and his boxing license was suspended. He was not imprisoned but did not fight again for nearly four years while his appeal worked its way up to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Ali was well known for his fighting style, which he described as “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee”. He was involved in several historic boxing matches, including three with rival Joe Frazier and one with George Foreman, whom he beat by knockout to win the world heavyweight title for the second time. He has only 5 losses (4 decisions and 1 TKO by retirement from the bout) and 0 draws in his career, while amassing 56 Wins (37 knockouts and 19 decisions)

Keb’ Mo’ started his musical career playing the steel drums and upright bass in a calypso band. He moved on to play in a variety of blues and backup bands throughout the 1970s and 1980s. He first started recording in the early 1970s with Jefferson Airplane violinist Papa John Creach through an R&B group. Creach hired him when Moore was just twenty-one years old; Moore appeared on four of Creach’s albums: Filthy!, Playing My Fiddle for You, I’m the Fiddle Man and Rock Father.

Around that time Moore was also a staff writer for A&M Records, and arranged demos for Almo – Irving music. Keb’ Mo’s early debut, Rainmaker, was released on Chocolate City Records, a subsidiary of Casablanca Records, in 1980. He was further immersed in the blues with his long stint in the Whodunit Band, headed by Bobby “Blue” Bland producer Monk Higgins. Moore jammed with Albert Collins and Big Joe Turner and emerged as an inheritor of a guarded tradition and as a genuine original.

He continued to be active in the recording industry, forming the group The Highwaymen with Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, and Kris Kristofferson. Jennings released his last solo studio album in 1998. In 2001, he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame.

Buckles was born in Bethany, Missouri. He enlisted in the U.S. Army at the beginning of America’s involvement in World War I in April 1917. Only 16 years old at the time, Buckles was asked by his recruiter to show a birth certificate. Later Buckles said of that event, “When I was born in Missouri, they [the state] didn’t [issue] birth certificates, and the only record we kept was in the family Bible, and I told them I wasn’t going to bring that down here, so … they took me.” Before being accepted into the United States Army, he was turned down by the Marine Corps due to his slight weight.

In 1917, Buckles was sent to Europe on the RMS Carpathia, the same ship that had rescued the survivors of the Titanic sinking in 1912. During the war Buckles served in England and France, driving ambulances and motorcycles for the Army’s 1st Fort Riley Casual Detachment. After the Armistice in 1918, Buckles escorted prisoners of war back to Germany. Following his discharge in 1919, he attended the dedication of the National World War I Museum in Kansas City, Missouri, in honor of those Americans who died in World War I. While there, he met General John “Black Jack” Pershing, commander all U.S. forces in France during the war.

In the 1920s Buckles worked for the White Star Line in Canada (the White Star Line had operated the Titanic). During World War II he worked as a civilian for an American shipping company in the Philippine Islands. He was captured by the Japanese in 1942 and spent the next three years in the Los Banos prison camp. He was rescued on February 23, 1945.

Once I overheard him say something about coming home with a mouthful of metal. And there were some other clues hidden way up in the attic of our house.

Just from poking around up here as a kid, I knew my dad was in the Army’s 32nd Red Arrow Division. I knew he was awarded the Combat Infantryman’s Badge for serving in the Phillipines. And I could only assume, at some point, he got close enough to the Japanese to capture a flag found in a box.

Even more intriguing was an article I found in the local paper. It was written from an official Army press release touting my father’s heroism.

“Private George Hartman, while under enemy fire, used TNT, dynamite and flame throwers to blast enemy troops from their caves high in the mountains of Luzon,” the article reads.

Unfortunately, the release got a few things wrong.

“You never used a flamethrower?” I asked my father.

“Nope. Never saw one,” dad said.

“TNT?”

“Nope,” he said.

“Dynamite?”

“Nope,” he answered.

Actually, they got most things wrong. The whole writeup was just Army propaganda, meant to boost morale back home in Toledo.

“What in here is true?”

“My name,” he said with a laugh.

The truth is my dad spent most of his time working in a PX, selling candy bars and what not. Which finally explains the mouthful of metal. Dental records show dad got 12 cavities during the war.

As for the flag?

“Maybe I bought it, I don’t know,” he said.

Turns out my dad never talked about the war — not because it was too hard for him, but because it was too boring. This wasn’t exactly the Hollywood movie I was hoping to find. Although I still kind of think there’s a hero here.

In August of 1945, no one in the 32nd Division was in the Phillipines for the candy bars.

“We were going to invade Japan like they did Normandy,” dad said. “I honestly believe if Harry Truman hadn’t dropped the two bombs, the atomic bombs, that I wouldn’t be here today – because I was a young soldier in the infantry division which was going to hit the beaches like they did at Normandy and a lot of them didn’t come back.”

Sometimes, the only thing that separates the living from the dead is circumstance.

“It’s just a part of life, some of us live and some of us die,” dad said.

Sometimes, the only difference between a hero and an Average Joe is opportunity.

Of course, Memorial Day is about honoring those who gave their lives to this country. But this year I’ll also be taking a second to appreciate the many more, for whatever reason, didn’t have to.

Elite Special Forces undergo years of grueling training to become the country’s go-to guys in tight spots.

The investment paid off this week when – in a remarkable rescue – SEAL snipers on the U.S. destroyer Bainbridge freed Capt. Richard Phillips by picking off three Somali pirates with simultaneous shots from 100 feet away in rolling seas as the sun went down.

“I share the country’s admiration for the bravery of Captain Phillips and his selfless concern for his crew,” President Obama said in a White House statement. “His courage is a model for all Americans.”

According to Ben Sherwood Author, Journalist, Founder and CEO of TheSurvivorsClub.org this ian outline of a few of the survival lessons:

No doubt, the captain’s courage is a model for all of us. But as we await his first interview and details of how he endured his four-day ordeal, it’s clear that there was much more to his survival than old-fashioned bravery. Capt. Phillips is a quintessential member of the Survivors Club whose experience offers lessons for anyone and everyone facing adversity:

1. Hold Fast. Along with anchors and knots, hold fast is one of the most popular sailor tattoos. Seamen ink the eight letters on their arms or knuckles. When they tie down lines (a.k.a. ropes) and work the riggings, they’re reminded of these two essential words. Holding fast is a fundamental mindset in the merchant marine. It means being strong and never letting go.

In survival, holding fast is synonymous with tenacity, the capacity to keep going and never give up. Friends and family say that’s precisely what Captain Phillips must have done for days in an enclosed lifeboat with four hijackers brandishing automatic weapons. Under incredible pressure, Capt. Phillips held fast and never let go.

In Vietnam, American POWs shared a similar mantra. “Steady strain” was the phrase they whispered to each other or tapped in code. No matter the torture and beatings, the POWs urged each other to shoulder the strain with steadiness and stoicism. Above all, they knew the dangers of getting too high and or getting too low. Steady strain meant finding a middle ground and holding on.

2. The Fighting Spirit. No matter the odds, the most effective survivors keep fighting and never give up. It’s easy to resort to caricature, but Capt. Phillips is more than a flinty New Englander from Vermont. He’s a 20-year veteran of the merchant marine with a reputation for intensity on the high seas. He’s also an aggressive athlete and competitor who broke his neck diving for a catch in a pickup football game.

On Friday, Capt. Phillips demonstrated his fighting spirit by trying to escape his captors. He reportedly jumped into the ocean and tried to swim for the nearby USS Bainbridge. One of the pirates opened fire with an automatic weapon and Phillips was pulled back onto the lifeboat where he was bound and beaten.

3. Realistic Optimism. In almost every account, Capt. Phillips has been described as an easy-going, likable guy with a highly competitive side (in recreational basketball).

A positive mental attitude is an incredibly important part of survival, but a naïve or foolhardy attitude can be dangerous. It’s a phenomenon known as the Stockdale Paradox, named after Admiral James Stockdale, the highest ranking American prisoner of war in Vietnam. In the POW camps, optimists were the first to die, Stockdale told author Jim Collins in his bestselling book Good to Great. Optimists were always hoping to be released at Thanksgiving or Christmas, but were crushed when those holidays passed and they were still imprisoned. They couldn’t stand the disappointment and gave up fighting, Stockdale said. Soon after, they died.

4. The Power of Purpose. Captain Phillips offered himself as a hostage when pirates first stormed the Maersk Alabama, his ship. From the very start, he was ready to to sacrifice himself for his crew and his ship. Many of the world’s best survivors and thrivers possess a sense of purpose or a calling greater than themselves. They’re driven by a larger mission. And they’re capable of enduring tremendous hardship.

5. The Power of Faith. In all of the news coverage, I haven’t seen any mention about Capt. Phillips’s spiritual faith. Religious belief is an incredibly powerful and universal survival tool. But there are other kinds of faith too. For instance, there is faith in one’s country and the conviction that its leaders (and armed forces) will do everything possible to save your life. This conviction proved very important to the survival of the POWs in Vietnam. It must have been critical to Capt. Phillips as well. Indeed, his first comments reflect what he must have felt in that 18-foot lifeboat as it was towed by the USS Bainbridge, the American destroyer armed to the teeth with men and women who wanted to save him. “The real heroes are the Navy, the Seals, those who have brought me home,” Phillips reportedly said.

The former Air Force fighter pilot remained cool, calm and collected both before and after successfully ditching his US Airways flight into the Hudson River.

“That pilot is a stud,” said one police source. “After the crash, he was sitting there in the ferry terminal, wearing his hat, sipping his coffee and acting like nothing happened.”

Sullenberger, 57, looks more like Clark Kent than Superman: He’s balding, slightly built, with a thin mustache. But he emerged from the slowly sinking fuselage of Flight 1549 as one of Gotham’s brightest heroes, able to land engineless airplanes in a single try.

“Brace for impact,” he warned the passengers before ditching the plane, a voice of lone calm in the seconds before they crashed.

Sullenberger wasn’t done once his plane was down. He undid his safety belt and walked the length of the plane to make sure all the passengers were safely outside, Mayor Bloomberg said.

Once finished, Sullenberger turned around and made a second pass as the plane steadily took on water – and only then did he finally exit.

“He did a masterful job of landing the plane in the river and then making sure everybody got out,” said an admiring Bloomberg, who is a licensed pilot.

John and Jane Garcia, neighbors of Sullenberger in Danville, Calif., weren’t at all taken aback by the pilot’s utter nonchalance.

“If you met Sully, you’d understand,” said John. “You’d say, ‘Yep, that’s Sully.’”

“It’s not surprising,” agreed Jane. “He’s a great guy.”