Here you will find Pass It On from across from the past year.-audio to listen to, words to read and a few turns in the road before the point shows up.
Francis Pass built a company, raised a family, served his country, and spent decades talking with Southern Illinois-not at it. His stories carry the humor, work ethic and straight talk of the place he calls home.
Told in his unmistakable voice—part front-porch philosopher, part small-town patriot, part grateful grandfather—Pass It On is a collection of true stories about the things that matter most: faith, family, sacrifice, work, wonder, and doing right by your neighbor.
Every now and then, someone will say, “Hello, Sergeant Pass!” And every time, it makes me smile. Because that title means more to me than mostpeople realize. I’ve often said that becoming a sergeant was the equivalent of earning a doctoratedegree. Now, before all the doctors get upset with me, hear me out.
On May 19th, 2025, I attended a top-secret meeting. Okay, it wasn’t really top secret. But it was a meeting… of the minds. A team of talented songwriters came all the way from Nashville to sit down with me and learn about my experiences in Vietnam. Then, these magnificent melody
1957 was a big year. I turned nine years old, and there was a magnificent celebration. The streets were busting at the seams with fellow Dongolians. The men all wore beards and those peculiar-looking hats that you’d typically see in England. The women donned bonnets and long skirts. There might’ve
1957 was a big year. I turned nine years old, and there was a magnificent celebration. The streets were busting at the seams with fellow Dongolians. The men all wore beards and those peculiar-looking hats that you’d typically see in England. The women donned bonnets and long skirts. There might’ve
He was a young kid from Hawaii, so everyone in the unit called him “Pineapple.” You’d always find him smiling and laughing. I mean, always. No matter the conditions – mud up to our knees, rain blowing sideways, no sleep, no hot food – good ol’ Pineapple would still find something funny.
I have a little habit. Well, I call it a habit. Others may call it an obsession. Four times a year – once every quarter – I have my vehicles detailed. Inside, outside, the works. It protects the finish and keeps the paint looking sharp. Of course, it helps that
In the military, you quickly learn that the information you’re given doesn’t always match what you actually find. A map might say one thing and the ground, another. When that happens, we can do two things. One, improvise, and two, overcome. A mission may seem simple on paper: Get from
One hundred eighty-one. According to my grandson, Spencer Remington, that’s how many people showed up for my recent book signing. And after autographing well over one hundred books, the muscles in my hand are inclined to believe him. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed signing my name and adding littles
When it came to tools, my dad was a stickler. He believed every tool had a place, and that every tool better be in its place, polished up and presentable. “If it needs oil, oil it,” he’d say. “Just make sure you wipe it off.” Now, one summer afternoon, my
I love when people ask me how I’m doing. Most folks give the same ol’ answers, like “Fine” or “Not too bad.” But I throw ‘em a curveball. When someone asks, “How are you today?” I light up and say, “Phenomenal! It doesn’t pay to be any other way.” You
I recently attended my Army reunion in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I love nothing more than reuniting with my guys. Those gatherings mean the world to me. Why? I’ll tell ya. The unit I served with – the 11th Armored Cavalry – boarded ships for South Vietnam in September 1966. They stayed
I’ve noticed a trend lately. Enlistments in the military are going up, but membership in veterans clubs like the VFW and American Legion is going down. Way down. Now, in case you didn’t know, VFW stands for Veterans of Foreign Wars. The American Legion is open to all veterans, regardless