Lots to think about, for sure. All Memorial Day seems to mean for most is burgers, sitting in traffic to get to your weekend destination, the official start of summer. Lip service at best is what the day receives.
I know in the past you've mentioned some frustration about continuing to harp on a topic others seem not to care as much about, but I wanted to say earlier that in my way of seeing things, that's just your story to tell, and it is important. I'd guess that folks don't know what to say because as you mention, not many have any veteran family members. I think you've got a perspective others need to hear so that they don't get complacent.
Also, point well taken about deceased veterans versus those asking for change on the street corner. We even go so far as to tell ourselves they aren't actually veterans at all to make the scene easier to swallow.
Thanks, James. I appreciate that. Yeah, when I try to leave the topic something keeps pulling me back. Like the discovery (for me) between Tolstoy and Butler.
I mean, I like talking about mechanical watches too but somehow the time never seems right for that…
So the challenge I have then, is how to keep on point without beating the dead horse. Which, I think the best storytellers knew how to do. An essay like this, I don’t see myself writing too often but sometimes prose helps clear a space for poetry.
I imagine where you are at, being quite a Navy Town, there’s quite a few. And it’s so sad to have all that wealth, military power in that area, and have the opposite right outside.
Dog Beach in Coronado has a large fence that extends into the ocean, on the other side is the military base. That visual sums up your thought.
From time to time dogs slip through, tease their owners can’t go on that side. A few years back surfers went around the barrier (big NO-NO) Got away with it the 1st day, 2nd day kicked out, and believed fined.
Growing up in a small Illinois town, I remember Memorial Day as a day set apart. No school that day, but we still we got up early. It was almost always a beautiful day. I put on a uniform that varied depending on the year: a Brownie uniform, a scratchy band uniform, a soft cheerleading sweater. I picked flowers from our yard (usually a simple handful of violets stems wrapped in a wet paper towel & tinfoil). We processed through the town from the high school to the churchyard on the river. Taps was played very slowly. There were prayers. The old VFW color guard fired a 21-gun salute, which I always dreaded. We placed our flowers on the graves marked by miniature American flags. The day had a deep solemnity. Even as a child I felt sad about the wars people had fought, and sad for the dead, no longer able to enjoy a soft May morning.
Thanks, Ann. Like we were talking about last Friday, this topic quickly gets to the core of we all feel about many things.
I think it gets very confusing for a child as well. The memory you have is a very special one.
There was a similar gun salute once I was at with my daughters. When they requested all the veterans to stand up to be recognized, I didn’t. So my youngest daughter ran over to me, (she was sitting with my mom), while everyone was dead quiet and still, to ask why I didn’t stand up.
She’s told me she remembers that and I wonder if I’m helping or hurting. But I’m still trying to make sense of the world as I see it, as we all are I think.
I don’t have any wise words or anything to add or take away. I just want to sit with this and listen to its points as they ruminate. The Havel speech is really powerful. Thanks for lending your perspective and saying the hard things on behalf of others. 🙏🏻
Yeah, Havel was a writer and playwright. He became a kind of unfortunate politician as a result of imprisonment (from writing). I don’t think he was ever cut out to be a politician, but he was the right person for the time.
I think we should make a case for celebrating heroes without celebrating war. It’s interesting. I had a great-grandfather who fought in the Great War and received the Royal Medal of Gallantry.
He was a messenger, and one day he had to cross no man’s land. The mission had first been assigned to one of his comrades, but that man had a family. My great-grandfather was still a bachelor, so he took the mission instead. He almost made it back unscathed, but shells landed close to him, and several fragments struck his body. One lodged in his kidney, and he lost it.
I am very proud of that story, and proud to know I descend from brave men. But then again, there are other forms of heroism. My other great-grandfather left home young with my great-grandmother, whose name I carry, started a business, lost it because of the war, then started again. He kept rebuilding. He kept going.
So yes, you can have heroes in your family without necessarily having to go to war. Maybe this whole project of Veterans Day, of celebrating heroes and preserving the idea of the hero, is also a kind of immortality project, as Ernest Becker would put it.
There are few medals for starting a business, fewer still for moral courage. I think Butler, who I quoted in this article, was actually not a fan of medals in the U.S. military (there used to be none) and then he goes on to receive the most for his time.
My god, I wish we could find some way to glorify humanity besides those that dedicate themselves to violence, or who direct violence at others.
I am not detracting from your family history, crossing no-man’s-land is a courageous feat. But I get more inspired by some of the people that @Luciana Moroianu and yourself write about. Sometimes the most dangerous bullets come from an oppressive society, without firing a shot.
I am in full agreement with you. The story with my veteran great-grandfather was meant to highlight the fact that I am equally proud of the other who wasn’t one. There are a lot of heroes who deserve medals without being involved in violence or being institutional first responders, just the other day Tom Schechter was posting about his wife who has runs this charity for helping people with dementia and their caretakers.
Lots to think about, for sure. All Memorial Day seems to mean for most is burgers, sitting in traffic to get to your weekend destination, the official start of summer. Lip service at best is what the day receives.
I know in the past you've mentioned some frustration about continuing to harp on a topic others seem not to care as much about, but I wanted to say earlier that in my way of seeing things, that's just your story to tell, and it is important. I'd guess that folks don't know what to say because as you mention, not many have any veteran family members. I think you've got a perspective others need to hear so that they don't get complacent.
Also, point well taken about deceased veterans versus those asking for change on the street corner. We even go so far as to tell ourselves they aren't actually veterans at all to make the scene easier to swallow.
Thanks, James. I appreciate that. Yeah, when I try to leave the topic something keeps pulling me back. Like the discovery (for me) between Tolstoy and Butler.
I mean, I like talking about mechanical watches too but somehow the time never seems right for that…
So the challenge I have then, is how to keep on point without beating the dead horse. Which, I think the best storytellers knew how to do. An essay like this, I don’t see myself writing too often but sometimes prose helps clear a space for poetry.
Today should be renamed Grass Day, a day to reflect the true cost of war.
No veteran coming back from duty should be homeless, and lack proper medical care.
I imagine where you are at, being quite a Navy Town, there’s quite a few. And it’s so sad to have all that wealth, military power in that area, and have the opposite right outside.
Dog Beach in Coronado has a large fence that extends into the ocean, on the other side is the military base. That visual sums up your thought.
From time to time dogs slip through, tease their owners can’t go on that side. A few years back surfers went around the barrier (big NO-NO) Got away with it the 1st day, 2nd day kicked out, and believed fined.
Growing up in a small Illinois town, I remember Memorial Day as a day set apart. No school that day, but we still we got up early. It was almost always a beautiful day. I put on a uniform that varied depending on the year: a Brownie uniform, a scratchy band uniform, a soft cheerleading sweater. I picked flowers from our yard (usually a simple handful of violets stems wrapped in a wet paper towel & tinfoil). We processed through the town from the high school to the churchyard on the river. Taps was played very slowly. There were prayers. The old VFW color guard fired a 21-gun salute, which I always dreaded. We placed our flowers on the graves marked by miniature American flags. The day had a deep solemnity. Even as a child I felt sad about the wars people had fought, and sad for the dead, no longer able to enjoy a soft May morning.
Thanks, Ann. Like we were talking about last Friday, this topic quickly gets to the core of we all feel about many things.
I think it gets very confusing for a child as well. The memory you have is a very special one.
There was a similar gun salute once I was at with my daughters. When they requested all the veterans to stand up to be recognized, I didn’t. So my youngest daughter ran over to me, (she was sitting with my mom), while everyone was dead quiet and still, to ask why I didn’t stand up.
She’s told me she remembers that and I wonder if I’m helping or hurting. But I’m still trying to make sense of the world as I see it, as we all are I think.
I think you make a fine choice never to celebrate, but to soberly remember. To mourn. To grieve.
Let him work! This is excellent Josh. Thank you.
Ah, thank you!
Thank you for your service.
I don’t have any wise words or anything to add or take away. I just want to sit with this and listen to its points as they ruminate. The Havel speech is really powerful. Thanks for lending your perspective and saying the hard things on behalf of others. 🙏🏻
Yeah, Havel was a writer and playwright. He became a kind of unfortunate politician as a result of imprisonment (from writing). I don’t think he was ever cut out to be a politician, but he was the right person for the time.
I think we should make a case for celebrating heroes without celebrating war. It’s interesting. I had a great-grandfather who fought in the Great War and received the Royal Medal of Gallantry.
He was a messenger, and one day he had to cross no man’s land. The mission had first been assigned to one of his comrades, but that man had a family. My great-grandfather was still a bachelor, so he took the mission instead. He almost made it back unscathed, but shells landed close to him, and several fragments struck his body. One lodged in his kidney, and he lost it.
I am very proud of that story, and proud to know I descend from brave men. But then again, there are other forms of heroism. My other great-grandfather left home young with my great-grandmother, whose name I carry, started a business, lost it because of the war, then started again. He kept rebuilding. He kept going.
So yes, you can have heroes in your family without necessarily having to go to war. Maybe this whole project of Veterans Day, of celebrating heroes and preserving the idea of the hero, is also a kind of immortality project, as Ernest Becker would put it.
There are few medals for starting a business, fewer still for moral courage. I think Butler, who I quoted in this article, was actually not a fan of medals in the U.S. military (there used to be none) and then he goes on to receive the most for his time.
My god, I wish we could find some way to glorify humanity besides those that dedicate themselves to violence, or who direct violence at others.
I am not detracting from your family history, crossing no-man’s-land is a courageous feat. But I get more inspired by some of the people that @Luciana Moroianu and yourself write about. Sometimes the most dangerous bullets come from an oppressive society, without firing a shot.
I am in full agreement with you. The story with my veteran great-grandfather was meant to highlight the fact that I am equally proud of the other who wasn’t one. There are a lot of heroes who deserve medals without being involved in violence or being institutional first responders, just the other day Tom Schechter was posting about his wife who has runs this charity for helping people with dementia and their caretakers.
Thank you, Josh.
Deborah, thank you, I appreciate you giving this a read.
Josh, I think your posts have just kept getting deeper and more expansive, both at the same time.
Another post I cannot like - I've got it bookmarked ... something is percolating for me.
Staggering, stunning, painful work.