Today is Memorial Day in the U.S., a national holiday. So we’re out watching our daughter march with her little Girl Scout buddies in the town parade, tossing candy to and at people like us watching the parade go by. Then later we fire up the barbecue to cook a smokey mess of drunken chicken marinated in bourbon and barbecue sauce.
Of course there is a serious side to this holiday. Years ago I took a car trip with my dad to visit his home town, Howell, the Melon Capital of Mid-Michigan. We drove through the cemetary near the town lake and I remember all the metal rods with brass five point stars on top, each rod pushed into the grave of a young man who died in World War II, young guys who never got the chance to grow up, young guys who left their families and friends bereft. There were so many brass stars that fall day. My dad served as a medic and his division liberated Dachau. He never forgot what people could do to each other and the responsibility we all have to stand up and speak out.
Back tomorrow.
