MEMORIAL DAY 2019

A few weeks before Memorial Day, Don and I visited Jefferson Barracks, one of the country's largest veterans' cemeteries. We were there to honor a man who served as Chief Petty Officer in the United State Navy more than 20 years ago. Before going to the cemetery we went to a sectarian funeral parlor where eulogies were provided by children, grandchildren, friends and colleagues. People told stories about the man's humility, kindness and his love of art and woodworking. The parlor was filled with people sitting and standing. Almost all got into the long funeral cortege to go to the cemetery.

When we came there the day was warm with a breeze that rustled the trees and shrubbery. The family gathered under a sheltered, open air pavilion at the top of a hill. Below us a small group of sailors came forward. Some peeled off from the others to fire a nine-gun salute. Two others, a man and woman, came forward and stood directly in front of the family. They began to fold the flag, turned and joined the other sailors. Taps was played by a veteran who had a Service Dog on the grass beside him. As we heard the wail of Taps, two sailors walked up and placed the American Flag and the empty shells used to fire the nine-gun salute into the hands of family members.

As we left many people continued to emerge from their parked cars to greet the family, and I saw the stark whiteness of the more than 350,000 grave stones of men and women of all ages and beliefs who often give and gave their lives to this country. They and we believed it was for a "Just Cause."

That was and is what Memorial Day 2019 means to me.

AS THE RIVER RISES SO DO OUR HOPES AND ASPIRATIONS

My companion and I drove down to St. Louis' waterfront to watch the Mississippi River rising to record-breaking levels.  Streets and roads were blocked and we were unable to get through.  We drove on until we came to Carondelet Park which provided a spectacular view.  We could see the river as it carried heavily-loaded barges, some covered by water. All sorts of wooden items like gates and fences were hurtling past with the speed of the churning river.

As we looked around the park we found small historically significant buildings with old soiled signs advertising a summer concert held more than 100 years ago. The river continued to rise.  It seemed to mock us as it flowed past.  Homes and apartment buildings were close by.  Picnic tables,  swings and and rest rooms once in use are now in disrepair. Public parks are places for all of us  to enjoy if they are not neglected by users and government.(*)  It is in them we can watch the moon rise and the sun set, where children can learn to ride a bicycle where older people can meet friends and teenagers play basketball. As we stood in Carondelet Park the rain began once again. The river seemed to increase its flow taking with it our hopes and aspirations for the future of public parks and land.


(*) The St. Louis Post-Dispatch article, "St. Louis Parks Show Signs of Neglect," by  Janelle O'dea