Memorial Day

It's another Memorial Day.  I've seen seventy-three, but that doesn't make me exactly an expert. I seriously doubt if many college students today could tell you much about it. From my childhood, I don't remember much except that my father on Memorial Day would put on his American Legion cap and sell paper poppies for boutonnières. He would have the day off from work too. In the south where I grew up it wasn't much of a celebration like I heard there was in the north and mid-west with parades and such. 

The actual origin of Memorial Day is unknown.  For centuries folks have placed flowers on the graves of the fallen in battle on certain days. It seems that after the War Between the States, in 1868, May 30 became the quasi official Memorial Day. It did not mean a lot to me as a schoolboy since it occurred after school was out for the summer. In 1966 President Lyndon B. Johnson with approval of Congress made it an official federal holiday. Almost all official holidays are now celebrated on the Monday nearest the original date. 

I, like many others, remember those family members who died in military service to our country. My uncle, John Young, died in WWI.  Each Memorial Day I post a short video I made about him on Facebook. He, like so many over the years and presently, left the security of their home to set foot on foreign battlegrounds never to return. There is hardly any battleground whose earth is not stained with the blood of an American fighting man. And a sea not tinged with the blood of an American sailor does not exist. Those who've been in harm's way know the peril of battle and the honor of fighting for the liberty we love. Those who choose not to be in harm's way should endure the scourge of free men everywhere. 

I served my country's military and I'm proud I did.