Editor's Note

There are many poignant moments in Michael Leahy's cover story about Clayton Beaver, who made a painful decision to join the Army at the unlikely age of 40. But the moments that stop me cold are his interactions with his 14-year-old son, whom he must leave behind in Hawaii to go to boot camp half a world away.

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Any father of a teenage boy will get this immediately, especially if, like Beaver, he's lucky enough to have a teenager who still welcomes his company. It's the age when all boys have to grow a macho shell to fit in, or maybe even just to survive, and almost any grown man remembers how thin that shell can be. The desperate desire to appear strong encourages a lot of foolishness, from acting out against authority to acting out against gravity. But if a boy can survive that, with a little guidance, the bluster will gradually lead him into doing scary things that require actual strength. Like going on job interviews, getting married, supporting a family.

It's just that, from a teenage boy's point of view, how do you make the leap? How do you go from faking it every step of the way, the adolescent base state, to having the inner confidence you need to be a man in the world?

That's where the "with a little guidance" comes in.

It's sad and ironic that as Beaver himself has grown, as you'll see in the article beginning on Page 12, from someone a bit adrift to an exemplary father and soldier, he's justifiably worried that his own journey has taken him away just when his son needs him most.

When I got home from work the other night, my son suggested we go find a tennis court with lights and hit the ball around. If it had been last year, I would have worried that he was just trying to avoid homework. But back in August, when we dropped his sister off at college, he looked around the campus and said: "I'm going to work hard this year. It would be nice to have more options."

Since saying that, he has really seemed to knuckle down, and his grades are beginning to show it. So, although I was tired, and my knees were sore, having just read about Clayton Beaver's great sacrifice, this wasn't an invitation I was about to turn down.

By some miracle, the courts were not only open but also newly resurfaced, and the broken lights had been replaced. He pounded me, as usual, but we had a great time, and afterward we talked. He mentioned a column I'd written about a childhood friend who had a gift of willpower that had made so much possible for him.

"I've got a ways to go on that," he said.

I should have told him what -- to me -- was obvious: He is, in fact, almost there. I'm so lucky to be here to see that.

Tom Shroder is the editor of the Magazine. He can be reached at shrodert@washpost.com.