7- MEMORIAL DAY---2008

A) This educator and author continues to wipe a tiny tear or three away upon seeing or becoming a part of any Memorial Day celebration, since walking, as a little boy up the main street of my hometown in Virginia...with my father. When an older gentleman wearing a solder's cap, standing on the corner, turned to see my dad, he smiled an elderly smile and handed Bus a red Poppy. My father reached into his billfold and pulled out a dollor and gave it to the old soldier. Not a word was spoken between the two. My dad said not a word to me, but I seemed to understand.
B) I learned a few years later that my grandfather, Carl, a skilled tailor craftsman like my father, likewise had paused for a moment on the same street, for over 70 years, to buy a red Poppy. And I discovered that he, like my great-grandfather, John, had privately and quietly been pacifists. However, their respect for the bravery and duty and dedication of America's patriots on the fields of battle for centuries was foremost etched in their lives.
C) My own best memory came about on a visit to Arlington National Cemetery on a Memorial
Day....the changing of the Guard on the hillside at the Tomb of the Unknowns. As I moved later across the hallowed, sacred grounds, I paused. The wind changed, in my direction, and I heard it...echoing "Taps" from two dueling buglers. I will always BE a poud American, period....rss