Yesterday, I sat in a Bob Evans in Dublin, Ohio with my three year old.  About halfway through our meal an older gentleman sat down across from us.  He had no military hat on or any other obvious sign that he was a veteran.  However, every ounce of me knows he was.  My guess is that he was a World War II veteran.  I stole glances at him in between stopping apple juice from spilling, coloring on a…