Late last night, as I was trudging through the Anchorage airport, I saw something that made me very proud of my fellow Americans.

At midnight in mid-June, it’s still light in Anchorage, although the sun is setting. Because of its unique geography, the Anchorage airport is usually bustling from 11pm to 2am – shops and restaurants are open, and flights are coming and going every few minutes.

The waiting area outside the security checkpoint was crowded, lined two and three deep with folks awaiting friends, family members, and other arrivals. Everyone was tired, kids were drowsy in their parents arms, but the general attitude was cheerful.

That brings me back to my point. What made me proud – brought tears to my eyes, still does this morning, actually – is that every time a uniformed soldier walked through security, arriving home to Anchorage, home to Elmendorf Air Force base and Fort Richardson, the relative strangers outside security clapped and cheered wildly for him or her.

Every time. A hero’s welcome.

It doesn’t matter how you feel about the war – these young adults, following orders under intense pressure every day, earn our honor. Last night, tired, footsore, and resolute, they deserved the moment’s surprise and joy.

I am proud – of the soldiers, whose faces transformed from exhaustion to embarrassed gratitude, and of the bystanders, whose unselfish recognition turned a commonplace long wait into something very special.

It’s the best kind of journey’s end.