If the sun isn't shining as brightly today, or colors don't seem as vivid as before, the reason could be that the world has lost an American hero.

Ted Sampley, editor of this Web site, friend of U.S. veterans and servicemen, decorated Green Beret, Vietnam veteran, writer, father, son and helper to all who needed him, died Tuesday, May 12.

Ted was my friend for more than a decade - much less time, I realize, than many of you knew him. It was unusual for a week to go by without seeing him, either at my home or at one of his businesses, or for a day to go by when we didn't talk on the phone. Ted had an addiction to telephones!

He was a giant. It's not a stretch to compare him to Mount Rushmore. You just couldn't believe that he wouldn't always be around.

He lived the impossible dream. His heart and his passion were always for soldiers missing in action or held as prisoners of war. But it didn't stop there. He worked hard for Montegnards, Vietnamese who allied themselves with U.S. forces during the Vietnam War. He worked tirelessly for injured veterans of all wars, often helping pay at a Washington restaurant for dinners and drinks for military members undergoing treatment at Walter Reed Hospital.

Ted was a patriot during a time when being a patriot was unfashionable. He served bravely in Vietnam, receiving three bronze stars, the Army Commendation Medal, the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry, and other recognitions. Like many others, he came home to jeers and catcalls.

If you wanted to get Ted's attention during the past few years, you only had to say, "John McCain" or "John Kerry." He despised both men, a sentiment they returned, and he expended great energy to make sure Americans knew that, in his view, they were traitors to the U.S. military.

Ted was one of the smartest men I've ever know. He lacked formal education, but he never lacked knowledge. If a subject captured his interest, he'd spend hours in the library digging, researching and exploring all facets of the topic. When he finished, he approached "expert" status.

It might surprise some to know that Ted's bull-in-a-china-shop approach masked enormous artistic talent. He was a master potter, an accomplished painter, an expert photographer. He concealed his sensitivity well, perhaps being just a little embarrassed that the ground-stomping, no-holds-barred, damn-the-torpedoes façade covered such a creative mind.

Ted believed the Unknown Soldier from the Vietnam War had an identity that the Pentagon was refusing to reveal. He proved his case. The soldier eventually was removed from his tomb in Washington and returned to his family. He wouldn't acknowledge the word "can't" when he set out to accomplish a goal.

Ted was one of the original organizers of Rolling Thunder, the national motorcycle rally held every Memorial Day weekend in Washington to support the POW-MIA movement. Nothing delighted him more than facing off against Code Pink protesters and he relished every opportunity to do just that.

His face was familiar in the halls of Congress. He testified in POW-MIA hearings, confronting the powerful and, often, uninformed. The national press was not kind to him during those times. He didn't care. He spent little energy refuting their biased reporting. Ted had better things to do.

His town of Kinston N.C., and his county of Lenoir, bear Ted's distinctive mark. Almost single-handedly he transformed a decaying street in the heart of downtown into a vibrant, thriving area for restaurants, dining and tourism. He stepped on more than few toes, but he knew his vision was true and he pursued it in the face of powerful political and financial opposition.

He opened a restaurant on Kinston's Herritage Street alongside a few of his other businesses. He built a fireplace in the large, rustic back dining room, and told people that U.S. Gen. Ulysses Grant and Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee held a secret meeting there one day and almost reached a war-ending solution to the conflict. The amazing thing was that so many people believed him! They didn't call him the Merry Prankster for nothing.

It was not unusual to see some scruffy-looking men in Ted's restaurant. He fed homeless veterans and provided housing and jobs for many of them. Children who ran away from a nearby juvenile home went to Ted. He would buy them something to eat and listen as they talked. Then, he'd call the home and tell them where to pick up the boys.

And there was his boat - a replica of the CSS Neuse, a Confederate gunboat, and the only full-sized one in the world. He never asked for tax money and put thousands of his own dollars into the boat. People said he was crazy, that it never would work. Ted knew better. The History Channel used the boat a few years ago to tell the story of the CSS Albemarle, sister ship to the Neuse II.

His face and voice were familiar at City Council meetings. He knew the way things were in Kinston - and he knew the way they should have been. He refused to allow council members to evade the hard issues. When a developer was about to buy a Civil War battlefield and build a trailer park, Ted was at the council meeting protesting long and loud. Today, that property is transformed and is a stop on the state and National Civil War Trails map.

One of his latest ventures was as unlikely as anything he ever did: Ted became a farmer. He owned a small farm outside town where moved his kiln. He bought animals - chickens, turkeys, miniature donkeys and goats, geese. He planted pumpkins and watermelons, figs and blackberries. He worked there day in and day out, through rain, blistering North Carolina summers, fighting snakes and foxes and plant diseases. And it was beginning to come together. He wanted to turn the farm into a place where kids could visit, go on hayrides, pick out a pumpkin, and carve a jack-o-lantern. He was almost there.

He loved his son Lane more than words could tell. He was not an overly-protective father, but he kept a close eye on the boy. Ted was at Lane's football and soccer games, went to his Boy Scout events and took the troop on camping trips, taught Lane to drive, bought him a truck, made sure he was in church. Lane grew up with tremendous experiences: meeting world and national figures, visiting embassies, getting to know military heroes, seeing first-hand what it means to fight the incoming tide and win.

And his daughter Windy. How his eyes would sparkle when he talked about her and his granddaughter was the apple of his eye.

Ted Sampley was not a paragon of virtue, thank God. That would have been hard to live with. He could be cantankerous, stubborn, pig-headed and just plain irritating. But he was a good man, with a heart even bigger than his enormous courage.

The world is poorer without Ted. You can't say more about a man than that.

Rest in peace, my friend. You've more than earned it.

Lee Raynor
(AKA C.J. Raven)
U.S. Veteran Dispatch