This is a Memorial Day presentation my sister gave this morning…

            Welcome to all who have come to honor the men and women who have died for our country.  I would like to thank those who have invited me to speak; it is a privilege to be before you this Memorial Day. 

I would like to acknowledge that there will be times that I refer to soldiers as men; this is because during the Civil War women were not found on the field of battle.  When I reference our more current history I am honored and appreciate the inclusion of women in the words I share with you today.

It was a beautiful fall day in November near Spotsylvania, VA where a friend and I hiked the trails that meander through the battlefield known as The Wilderness.  We couldn’t have asked for a better day to make our way through the wooded area of honeysuckle vines and tangled dense undergrowth that gave this area its name.  The sky was a sharp blue with no clouds, and looking up through the yellow ash leaves the contrast of color added to the beauty of the day.  The only sounds were the birds chirping occasionally and our feet crunching the fallen leaves.  The air was fresh and slightly cool for the morning hours. 

However, the calmness and beauty of the day betrayed the brutality of what had happened on this land in May of 1865.   We were alarmed to see the scars of the earthworks made by the Union and Confederate armies; these entrenchments in places were only yards apart.  The embankments the soldiers hid behind were only thigh high; to shoot would leave them wide open to enemy fire.  When the battle took place the impenetrable scrub growth and rough terrain made movement and vision difficult; this hindered the evacuation of the wounded.   The fighting was fierce and lasted for two days.  The most tragic event of this first encounter between Generals Lee and Grant occurred during the night.  An underbrush fire broke out and burned alive those wounded left on the battle ground.

Yet on our hike we looked upon the beauty of nature, and couldn’t imagine the battle that had stained with blood the very ground on which we stood.  Casualties for this battle were over 28,000 (3,700 killed, almost 20,000 wounded, and about 5,000 captured/missing).  As the reality of the place and events continued to sink in we grew silent; it felt as if carrying on a conversation on this holy ground would be sacrilege.

As we stood between the Union and the Confederate lines, unsettled by their proximity, I heard my friend whisper through tears, ‘those poor boys, those poor boys, who will remember them.  Those poor boys.’  On Veterans Day weekend, in the early 21^st century, she asked the question on behalf of thousands of men who had fought on that land over a century before. 

Who will remember?

The wars that the US has fought before the twentieth century were on American soil.  The battlefields remind us of the price our freedom cost; they are tangible proofs of the bravery of those committed to that freedom.  No one, no longer has living memory of wars fought on our soil.  To lose these places of heritage is to jeopardize our collective memory of major events in our life as a country.

In 2008 a mega retailer proposed to build a superstore next to the battlefield site; in 2009 it was approved by the local Board of Supervisors.  And thus, this battlefield is on the course of so many other sites that have disappeared to development.  Consider the Manassas battlefield, the site of 1^st and 2^nd Battles of Bull Run, it’s crisscrossed with two and four lane highways; rush hour commuters driving past where the brave fell.

Who will remember?

How many generations have passed since the French & Indian War, the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War, the Spanish American War, WWI?  How many soldiers remain who fought in WWII, the Korean War?  How many times have we heard taps for those who have fought in Viet Nam, the Gulf War.  And now, there is a new generation of men and women who are being honored and remembered from the current wars in the Middle East.  Each generation’s recent memory holds fast to those within living memory; but what of the names of distant past?

In Mississippi there is a rural cemetery filled with graves of both Union and Confederate soldiers; it is unkempt and forgotten; no longer maintained.  Are these men to be forgotten, having died so many years ago that we feel disconnected from them?  Is not this day the day when those forgotten are given their due and honor.  Did they die on the battlefield calling out to mothers and wives, praying that their deaths not be in vain and that their names not die on the lips of time?  

In a 150 years who will remember our soldiers who fought in our current wars?  As time moves forward more and more men and women are added to the list of those who we honor.

As we stand here we know the names of those who recently died, whose presence here is a living memory of service.  It’s hard to forget those faces in the photographs of our loved ones who grace our walls and photo albums.  But as each generation moves on, who will the next generation remember?

Who will lift up the names of those who have died for their country?  Have you walked through cemeteries and seen the ‘unknown’ grave marker?  How many men and women don’t have a family to give the gift of memory, to remember their name? 

In our electronic world there is a real threat of forgetting the past when the future is at our fingertips.  It is up to us to remember and this is the day that compels us to name those names and speak on behalf of those who are forgotten and unknown.  For someone lies in that grave.  A son, daughter, wife, husband, father, mother, sister, brother; someone lies in that grave. 

It is the names we know, the people we know, friends and family that we honor this day.  But it is also the countless soldiers and service people throughout our history that we commemorate.  There are those whose fate we know, and those whose fate we don’t, only that they are gone.  We lift up those names we do know as well as honoring those whose names we don’t.  But what we acknowledge is that they have all given of themselves for country and home. 

It is a scene we’ve witnessed time and time again.  A family gathers for the Thanksgiving meal; people have traveled distances to break bread with one another.  But as they gather around the table a chair is left vacant.  Last Thanksgiving that chair was occupied, but not today.   It is now a silent witness to one who was and is no more. 

In 1861 the family of Lieutenant John William Grout experienced the vacant chair at their Thanksgiving; he was killed in the Battle of Balls Bluff, VA.  To commemorate his death a civil war song was written that would echo the experience of many families then, and today; it’s called The Vacant Chair.  I would like to share that song with you.  (The Vacant Chair)(see links)

How many vacant chairs has our country seen?

Who will remember?  We will remember.  It is our honor and our duty to remember those who have died and those who have served; let it never be said that we forget.  Let us teach our children the importance of memory and remembrance.  It is they who in the future will carry on what we do here today so that generations will continue to honor the known and unknown who have given their lives for country and home.  As we see the colors of red, white, and blue we think not only of those of our own community and families that have served and died.  But for all men and women who have honored the name of the United States of America by giving of themselves. 

Who will remember?  We will.