I have never seen a sky like this in my life.
Sort of light on top and that grey area underneath,
but so defined...straight across.
It almost looked like a hill or mountain range
behind the trees.
I tried to call Pearl and Dar and Jackie to look out their west windows and see this, but they didn't answer their phones.
I wondered, "What in the world is coming at me!" Is it a Wall Cloud?
Half an hour later--it started to break up.
15 minutes later
and now--just going to be a cloudy, cool day.
I won't say Happy Memorial Day because, I don't see how any "memorial" day can be "happy".
When I was a kid, we called it Decoration Day. It was on the 30th of May. We went to the cemeteries where our ancestors were buried, we cleaned and scrubbed off the grave markers and planted flowers.
My grandmother was the sexton for "our" cemetery, so it was my job to help her get flags on every soldiers grave. We didn't have the little brass flag holders back then--grandma knew every person that was buried in that cemetery--we'd start at the north end and she would point out the graves and I would carefully push a flag in front of the marker.
"There's the Horcha boy. Oh, I remember when he went off to the war. He was such a nice young man. Terrible...just terrible." On we'd go--she remembered every person from World War II on.
The flags were only left up that day and the next. In respect to the flag and country, we went back in the late afternoon of May 31st and took them off the graves and carefully put them away.
When I got older--high school--I marched in the parade in our town. I was in the band. We'd gather at the high school and get in line. There were the old vets who marched in front of us. Their uniforms strained across their now ample stomachs. They stood so proud as they carried the flag and their rifles.
Little kids rode behind us with their decorated bikes and--the horses and riders came last--so the rest of us didn't have to watch for horse patties along the way, LOL.
Of course, there were the local fire engines and one or two floats, pulled by a John Deere or Farmall tractor.
We'd march downtown--there was a bandstand where we put on a concert with appropriate military music--The Star Spangled Banner first and then ending with Stars and Stripes Forever. In between songs, there was honoring of vets in the crowd--each one getting a red carnation pinned on their shirt. Prayers by the two town ministers. Every single one of us in that crowd--even the little kids, knew what this day was all about.
Then, down through the rest of town to the cemetery. No playing in the cemetery--the drums were muffled just to keep the beat for our, right, left. Right, left. The crowd was quiet!
We'd stop at a monument in honor of the army, marines and then on down to the millpond. The soldiers lined up facing the water and shot off a three gun salute to the navy--the WRC women threw flower wreaths out onto the water. I usually had both ears plugged with my fingers while this was going on.
Up on the hill, my friend Bethie played taps on her trumpet. It always gave me goose bumps. Then we marched out of the cemetery--muffled drums, until we got out of the gate, and then a regular nice loud cadence and playing of marching songs back to the high school.
It sometimes rained a bit at the beginning of the parade, then the sun came out--nice and hot. We had wool band uniforms at the time and they got wet then hot and itchy, when the sun dried them.
There usually was a baseball game after the parade. The alumni against the high school team. A couple of years, my boyfriend was pitching for the high school team and my Daddy was pitching for the alumni. I didn't know who to root for.
Then home for a late afternoon hot dog roast. One year, my uncle who sold eggs and chickens to a market in the Big City, got a watermelon from that market. The first watermelon of the year--it was a big deal, let me tell you.
All this in a town that had around 600 population.
They still have the parade. It always gives me a thrill to look up the street and see the soldiers and the marching band coming over the hill.
My hometown--Byron, Michigan. Small town USA!
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Did you know this day wasn't officially called Memorial Day until the mid '60's and wasn't on the last Monday in May until 1971? The unions pushed for that so their workers could get a nice three-day weekend.
Don't forget.
A very strange cloud.... I agree that it looks just like hill beyond the trees. Did you end up with wet weather? Jx
ReplyDeleteI love this post, Judy. It's always nice to hear about moments remembered. Another friend of mine, however, put something on FB regarding the original date of Memorial Day; it had something to do with slaves. I'll try to find and send to you.
ReplyDeleteJust read you on FB, thank the Good Lord you're okay.
xoxo
What a great post, Judy. Your hometown really knew how to do it.
ReplyDeleteI've kind of wondered about the flags on the graves and what happened to them after a few days. I imagined them getting wet with rain or falling on the ground. Somehow it's comforting to know they were removed after a couple of days. I wonder if it's done that way most places?
That cloud was weird. I thought it was a mountain range at first. Never seen anything like it.