
By Todd DePastino
Sixty-one Americans wear the Medal of Honor. On December 17, one of them walked into a Veterans Breakfast Club event.
On Wednesday, December 17, at the JCC in Youngstown, Ohio, Medal of Honor recipient Kenneth J. David joined us and talked about Vietnam, the day in May 1970 when his life changed, and what it means to carry the weight of America’s highest military award with quiet humility. No one in that room will forget it.
Specialist Fourth Class David’s Medal of Honor — presented by President Joe Biden at the White House in January 2025 — wasn’t given lightly or quickly. More than fifty years after the battle, his Distinguished Service Cross was upgraded to the Medal of Honor in a ceremony that finally gave voice to the extraordinary selflessness he displayed on May 7, 1970. That day, near Fire Support Base Maureen in Vietnam’s Thua Thien Province, his unit of the 101st Airborne Division came under ferocious attack. When the platoon leader fell and casualties mounted, David handed off his radio and moved forward into the fight — engaging the enemy, drawing fire away from wounded comrades, and refusing to leave the field even after being hurt himself. Over and over, he drew hostile fire away from the men who needed to be evacuated, allowing Medevac helicopters to land and wounded soldiers to be lifted out. He fought on until the enemy withdrew and was only then evacuated himself. That courage, above and beyond the call of duty, now makes him one of the 61 living Americans to wear the Medal of Honor.

Ken told us that story in his own voice. He was straightforward, unembellished, and honest about the burden that comes with valor.
Ken attended our event at the invitation of his friend and fellow Vietnam veteran, whose own service is marked by valor. Smith “Smitty” Mealy himself is a Silver Star recipient who served with the 1st Infantry Division. Smitty’s Silver Star citation from February 1968 tells a story of courage under fire — rushing into hostile territory to tend wounded comrades and bring them to safety — actions that reflect the same devotion to others that defines Ken’s service.
What made December 17 so special wasn’t just having a Medal of Honor recipient in the room. It was watching other veterans from different eras, backgrounds and branches of service sit rapt as Ken spoke not about glory, but about duty, camaraderie, and the costs veterans carry long after the shooting stops.
Ken David isn’t a distant historical figure. He’s a hero who walks among us. One of many who attends VBC events. The Veterans Breakfast Club is honored not just to host him, but to count him among our community.
Thank you, Ken. Thank you, Smitty.

