A tribute to those who fell at Gettysburg, and never left. 4,000 are interred at the national cemetery. (Press Pros Feature Photos)
To fully understand the significance, and the lives honored on Memorial Day, you really need to leave home for a site of ultimate sacrifice at least once in your life. In my case…I make it a yearly pilgrimage.
It’s another Memorial Day weekend, and again, for what seems like the 20th year in a row I will make the journey this week to one of America’s most hallowed grounds, the Gettysburg National Battlefield Park.
It’s how I celebrate, or more appropriately, ‘appreciate’ Memorial Day – better than a local parade and the decoration of family graves with a lunch of fried chicken afterwards, as I did with my grandmother as an adolescent. Every year on this weekend she’d make her annual trip to the old Methodist cemetery in Getaway, Ohio to decorate the grave of her uncle, Joshua Kite, a Civil War veteran who lived well into the 20th century. Mr Kite died in 1937 at the age of 95, and was lucid to tell of what he had seen and endured at Bull Run, Chancellorsville, and Cold Harbor, until the day he died.
That was the way it was done back then. You honored the soldiers, and Grandma always left a bouquet of fresh-cut dahlias, the flower of choice from her own garden.
In about 1985 I met Jerry Russell, a Civil War battlefield preservationist who for years fought to preserve the sanctity of places like Manassas, Gettysburg, and Franklin, Tennessee. If you remember when the Disney group was planning a theme park at Manassas battlefield, it was Russell, among significant others, who led the fight to keep them out. They succeeded.
Russell used to say this about Civil War and other military battlefield burial grounds: “Visit them when you can, and while you can. Nothing is guaranteed.” Of course when you’re young you don’t understand the significance of words like “while you can”, but now in the twilight of my years it’s a big deal. Here’s why.
Remembering the fallen soliders who paid for the benefits of being an American.
While I can acknowledge the local parades and the three-gun salute in the local cemetery, it pales to the feeling of respect, appreciation, and honor you have when you stand on the ground that Lincoln dedicated to the fallen at Gettysburg in November of 1863. There were about 60,000 casualties in the three days’ battle at Gettysburg, and many of those buried in Evergreen Cemetery were so badly shot up and disfigured that they weren’t taken home – they couldn’t even be identified.
By the way, to give you an idea of the ‘sacrifice’ of Gettysburg, alone, it took ten years of war in Vietnam to amass 60,000 American casualties. Hallowed ground, indeed.
Many others, according to the wishes of their families, were left at Gettysburg as a symbol of their commitment and sacrifice to the Union – about 4,000 of them, in fact. Their graves are decorated not with dahlias this weekend, but with miniature American flags, and it makes quite an impression when the sun rises to grace their final resting place.
Others I’ve visited: Antietam, Chickamauga, Arlington, of course, and the most somber of all is Andersonville, Georgia. They all make you feel the same, that overwhelming sense of disbelief that one’s conviction for his country meant enough for him to give his life to ensure freedoms for generations of people they would never know. They tell me that Normandy is the most compelling of all, and despite distance, thousands go there to pay their respects each year.
Where people actually dress appropriately for Memorial Day……
So I’m not alone in this. Years ago I happened to be in Savannah, Georgia on Memorial Day, and took it upon myself to observe the commemoration of their fallen. Some came dressed, of course, in Confederate garb, others in modern military attire, but they all came dressed respectfully – no tank tops and flip flops. Actually, many wore suits. A few wore tuxedos. Many of the ladies came in period antebellum gowns.
And, they paid equal respect to the sons of the South and to those of the contemporary branches of service to the United States of America. They fired their salutes and played the national anthem…the Star Spangled Banner. I was struck by the somberness – no parades, no cheerleading competitions, and no car washes. There were no protests. Just respect!
Admittedly, I’m a little old-fashioned in my obsession for respect to fallen military men and women. And in this day they stand out more poignantly than ever from those who would stand aside and criticize while enjoying the fruits of someone else dying.
I’m a little old-fashioned about military re-enactments, too – modern ‘men’ playing war, and insufficient, as it’s just too easy to fall down and play dead, get up when it’s over and meet at O’Rorke’s for a beer. And how’s that paying respect? You guessed it…I don’t have many re-enactor friends!
Every year that I age my appreciation seems to increase for this holiday, perhaps the most significant of all if you consider what it means compared to the rest. Only Christmas, I guess, can stand alongside, based on sacrifice and reward for those who believe.
Every year I believe I have a better understanding, through study and appreciation, for my approaching destiny – to someday meet those who in Lincoln’s words, gave their last full measure of devotion…that the nation might live. Think of that yourself this weekend as heart-felt, genuine honor competes with a hotdog eating contest.
Or just go find a better place to reflect, like me. When you can, and while you can!