Vividly etched on my mind are the memories of Memorial Day in the small rural Iowa town of Peterson. I recall the flags unfurled at homes and on Main Street. I remember the paper Poppies that decorated everyone’s lapel. I recall with reverence the solemn feeling which prevailed in the days leading up to Memorial Day. As a young person, I knew something very sacred was about to occur.
As children in the Post-World War II era, most of our fathers and some mothers had been to war. Those who had not experienced the war themselves had experienced it on the home front in a very real way. They all knew or were closely related to someone who did not return from that war. Thus, Memorial Day was a significant community event of remembrance.
In Peterson, Memorial Day always began with a formal service at the Legion Hall on the south side of Highway 10, a block east of Main Street. In those days, the Legion Hall seemed like a rather big building. On Memorial Day morning, it was filled with people paying their respects to those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in the service of their country. Everyone was dressed in their finest, because that was one way you showed your respect back then. When the time arrived for the program to begin, the colors were advanced by the honor guard. Everyone stood in silence and either saluted (if you had served) or placed their hand over their heart. It was the respectful thing to do. The advancement of the colors would be followed by the National Anthem which was followed by the invocation. In those days, the honor of reading “In Flanders Field” belonged to the senior student who had won the Bar Association Award. It was a treasured honor, and I imagine every student who ever read that poem remembers doing so quite clearly. Following the reading of the poem, a special speaker would deliver the Memorial Day address. I always thought those were magical words about bravery, valor, sacrifice, and service to country. It seemed as if at that moment, those who had died in the service of our country marched together as a legion of exalted patriots. Sometime during the service the high school band played a patriotic song, and those in attendance always sang “America the Beautiful” with a fever of conviction to the great promise of this wonderful land. Following the benediction, the colors were retired in the same silent and solemn manner in which they had been advanced.
As everyone exited the Legion Hall, they moved quietly to their vehicles for the trip to the hilltop cemetery just north of Peterson. The cemetery is positioned among the naturally wooded hilltop. At any season of the year, this cemetery is a beautiful and peaceful place. However, on Memorial Day, it was decked out in all of its finest patriotic glory. All of the graves of fallen patriots were decorated with small flags, white crosses, and flowers. Rising above the graves was the avenue of the flags, which engulfed the entire cemetery in red, white, and blue under the natural canopy of large Maple trees. It was a sight to behold, and you knew, without a doubt, you were entering sacred ground. As people arrived, they parked on the cemetery roadways and walked carefully through the grave yard to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the very center of the ground. At the tomb, under the fluttering stars and stripes, an abbreviated ceremony similar to that at the Legion Hall took place. This was truly one of the most moving experiences of my youth. Standing there amongst the graves and amidst the generation that came of age during the great World War humbled my heart and inspired my mind to dream of things that never were. My eyes transfixed on the honor guard reflected their patriotic pride. As I glanced about the graves and the flags, I came to the realization that the greatness of this country is found in individuals willing to make sacrifices for the greater good. On this day, it was about those individuals willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.
The ceremony came to a climatic conclusion when the Honor Guard’s salute rang through the hills and valleys which rolled away to the south of the cemetery. Then came taps, that haunting melody that reaches out to the dead and the living in a powerful call for peace and serenity. From this hilltop cemetery, the taps echoed across the valley and then returned in a softer and even more haunting refrain.
Following the ceremony at the cemetery, there came the annual tossing of the wreath into the Little Sioux River from the south and west bridges. At each bridge, prayers would be offered, a song would be sung, the Honor Guard would fire their salute, and taps would be played once more. When this was finally done, people returned to the Legion Hall where Memorial Day lunch was served.
We have so much to be thankful for in this country. Our greatness is found in the people that fill our towns, farms, and cities. This country sprang forth from the desire for individual freedom and the ability to pursue our dreams as a free people. Our Democracy has come at a mighty price of the bloodshed by so many brave patriots so this country would have the opportunity to reach the fullness of our ideals as found in the Declaration of Independence and Constitution of the United States.
Memorial Day, which was previously called Decoration Day, sprang forth from the Civil War. Its original intent was to honor the dead of both the North and the South as a way of binding the wounds of that awful conflict. Over the years there have been too many wars and too many dead. Memorial Day is a national day for paying respect to those dead who gave the last full measure of their lives so that the rest of us would have the opportunity to live ours. It is only proper and fitting that each of us should take time to respect and honor those ultimate sacrifices. God love them and embrace them in the tender arms of mercy forever.
As for the rest of us, the greatest honor and respect we can give to those who have died is to ensure that their death has not been in vain. They died to ensure that this country of, for, and by the people should not perish. As Americans, we need to reflect on the meaning of this. Our country is not about something tangible, it is about ideals - the highest and loftiest of ideals. It is about each one of us having the right and opportunity to realize the fullness of our own lives. It is about opening doors of opportunity to all members of our society. It is about all those noble words written and spoken that elevate the human experience for all people. To hold high these ideals and strive to ensure the blessing of liberty for ourselves, each other, and posterity is the greatest tribute we can pay to those who died valiantly defending this very blessing.
~ Bill
