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USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
✍️ Hank McCallister – “Who am I?”
Henry Joseph McCallister. Folks call me Hank.
Veteran. Widower. Diner man. Habit more than hero.
Born in Amarillo, shaped by orders and heat.
I don’t say much, but I listen. That’s a kind of language, too.
I’ve served two tours and seventy thousand cups of coffee.
I’ve buried a wife, patched a roof, fired a cook who stole from the tip jar, and let a kid wash dishes without asking for papers.
People think I’m neutral.
I think I’m just tired.
But I write her name on the inside of invoices sometimes.
I keep her rosary near the register.
I know the regulars’ birthdays, even if I pretend not to.
Who am I?
A man who still opens the place at 5:30.
A man who wonders if silence is the same thing as safety.
A man who’s learning—late—that presence doesn’t always mean peace.
✍️ “How did I get here?”
Joined the Army at eighteen.
Didn’t think much of it—just figured it’d be a job that paid. Didn’t think it’d follow me home.
Spent twenty-two years in logistics. Knew how to get what people needed when the system said it wasn’t possible. Knew how to follow the chain of command. Never thought much about who built the chain.
Retired with a pension and a habit of waking up before dawn.
Moved to Laredo for María. She was the kind of woman who didn’t ask for permission—just grace. We opened the diner together. She handled the heart, I handled the rest.
She died five years ago.
Since then, I’ve kept the grill hot out of habit. Loyalty, maybe. Or fear. Because when the place closes, what’s left?
Carlos keeps trying to pull me into his world. Politics, protests, things I thought I was too old for. But the truth is, the world is already here. It’s in the eyes of that dishwasher who sketches behind the fryer. In the tension in the air every time ICE drives past. In the way this town hums like something’s about to break—and I’m just here pouring coffee.
How did I get here?
By following orders. Then following grief.
Now I’m standing still in a town that won’t wait.
What has life taught me?
That silence builds just as fast as noise.
That loyalty without courage turns into rust.
And that maybe neutrality was never really neutral at all.
Family, Friends & Associates
Carlos Reyes – Wife’s nephew.
Lucinda “Lucy” Martinez – Employee and friend.
Dante Rivera -Employee.
