First posted in 2009.
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I used to march in the Memorial Day parade. I was dressed in my Brownie uniform, and then in my Girl Scout uniform - replete with those embarrassing anklets. I wore them because the troop leader said we couldn't march without them, they were part of our official uniform. Marching was too cool to pass up. I wore them and bore the scorn.
All the school bands marched too, and the moms on Benjamin Road provided the materials and the labor to make the capes the high school kids wore. There must have been a military presence there, but I didn't pay enough attention to notice. I was marching and I knew that, all over America, other kids were being Americans and marching, too.
I belonged to something bigger than my family, my school, my town.
Belonging means different things in different places. In Marin, the Memorial Day parade was always good for a controversy or two. Or three. Should the anti-war protesters walk alphabetically in the main march, or have their own march, or walk 50 yards behind the official march? I especially liked this discussion: should weaponry be allowed?
That was fairly disingenuous even for Marin.
There were bands at this parade, too, and with Bobby Weir as the Grand Marshal you know the music was worth hearing, especially at the picnic in the park afterwards. Not exactly your typical VFW-sponsored event, but no one was complaining. It was Memorial Day; there had to be a parade and a picnic and a coming together as Americans.
I've got the flag G'ma bought us for a housewarming present, which replaced the one Dadooooo got us in Chicago. I'll wear the tie-dyed tank top the Cuters and I made early one July. I'll remember the fallen and recommit to doing everything I can to make this country worthy of their sacrifice.
We have a long way to go, but I have confidence in the future.
I have to say that having Bob Weir as the grand marshal says It all about Marin County. Perfect choice!
ReplyDeleteThe Dead were everywhere!
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Forgive me but I had to Google Bob Weir. Now I get it. I was never a Dead Head, but I do recognize their greatness.
ReplyDeleteI grew up in a rural area, connected by seven miles to two small towns. I don't remember anyone nearby having parades or picnics in the park. For us it was a day off from work between the end of the school year and the beginning of work in the strawberry fields. We had Sundays off but otherwise we had to wait for the 4th of July for another day off.
Eventually, when I was an older adult, we did attend a Memorial Day Ceremony with my elderly mother in the cemetery where my father is buried. The family treated it more like Decoration Day, not just for fallen soldiers.
Our lives were so very different, and yet we ended up in the same Blogger space.
DeleteThe cemetaries here are covered in 'decoration' flags. It's a lovely, if somewhat morbid, tradition.
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