People have a tendency to forget. Not only do we have the capacity to push things in the far backrooms of our minds, but to revise history as we choose. Today is Memorial Day, celebrated in the United States each year on the last Monday in May. I’m thinking of those whose careers (short or long) are the reasons for this day of remembering—their sacrifices and costs, and the impacts—our freedom—that I do not ever want to take for granted. There are just some things we should not revise.
Memorial Day: Its history
Although first observed in 1868 to commemorate the sacrifices of the Civil War, the day has become a celebration of honor for those who died in all America’s wars, as well all those who are veterans and current members of the U.S. military. It has been a national holiday since 1971.
Memorial Day: My framework
My Dad was a career officer in the United States Air Force, with 23 years of active service, including combat in World War II, and the Korean and Viet Nam Conflicts. Though Dad passed away 10 years ago this month, I still attend annual Air Force reunions with my Mom. Though the numbers are drastically dwindling, I am able to hear the stories from those who served.
I have my own stories. When I was 15, we lived at Clark Air Base in the Philippines. This was in 1968, at the height of the Viet Nam Conflict; Clark was a major supporting base. I volunteered as a Candy Striper at the newly constructed 200-bed regional medical facility where many of America’s Viet Nam wounded were treated. One soldier’s experience is etched in my mind. Johnny was only 18. Just a month earlier, both of his legs and an arm had been blown off. Each day I visited him, to see if I could get him some water, a magazine—something to make a small dent in what was a trauma I can’t begin to imagine. One day, Johnny asked me if I would write a letter on his behalf, to his fiance in Michigan. The gist was that it was a “Dear Jane” letter; I penned “I don’t love you anymore,” as per Johnny’s dictation. But I knew the truth, because he told me. “I don’t want her to feel burdened with me. This is the best way. She can get on with her life.”
This is one boy’s story. There are millions of men and women’s stories woven through more than a century of history.
Yes, today denotes the unofficial start of summer and provides a holiday for working people to enjoy time with loved ones. Picnics, family reunions and summertime fun.
At the risk of sounding preachy, please let’s not forget those who paid for this privilege we enjoy. Some made the ultimate sacrifice and lost their lives. Some had lives ever changed, as with my soldier hero, Johnny. Some never spoke of their service; they just did their jobs—in war and peacetime. Some are at this writing, serving a second or even third tour of duty in the Middle East.
Freedom is not free. Should we not honor those who make it possible? Should we not at the very least, remember them?
Photo: Beverly&Pack
