The order came in with a note in the comments box: "My father, Sergeant First Class James Callahan, is turning ninety. He carried men out of places I can't pronounce. Could you fit his unit crest in twenty characters?" We could not. So we called.
Earl took the call, listened for ten minutes, and did what Earl does: he said we'd engrave the full crest by hand, no charge, and nobody should mention it again. Mike — a retired Army medic himself — inspected that cane three times before he let it in the box.
A few weeks later we got a photograph: Sergeant Callahan standing straight as a fence post, cane in hand, surrounded by four generations of family. That photo hangs over the finishing bench now. Rosa dusts the frame more carefully than she'd ever admit.
Since then it's simply been the rule of the house: a veteran's unit, ship, or squadron goes on the cane at no charge, whatever it takes to fit. Just call and tell us the story. We have learned to keep tissues by the phone.