We live in a small, small township. There is a blinking red light at the intersection. We have a church, a post office, a grocery and a war memorial.
This tiny slice of America also has a tall stone Monument with names from top to bottom. My Uncle is on that marker from WWII. My Grandfather came back alive from WWI. My cousin came back alive from Korea. Every Memorial Day morning we go to the corner. The Veterans have a ceremony and we few hundred souls remember.
There are new names on the marker this year. If those families only drive by, they deserve to see us respecting their sacrifice.
Don't mean to be depressing because mostly it's not. The junior high band plays, there is a parade of WWI and WWII vehicles as well as the fire truck. Total of perhaps ten vehicles with our living Vets on them and the Boy/Girl Scouts. Real Norman Rockwell stuff. We bring our dogs, which is a lot of fun for
the kids. (That reminds me I have to bath and brush Coco tomorrow)
The one thing we don’t do is have vendors. I'm glad of that. I don't know if it's because the vendors are not interested in a crowd this small or if we're not
interested in them. No one is there to make money.
This day can't be baught or sold, it's a day purchased with blood and honor.