memories

I have a strange Memorial Day memory

     I could not have been more than 7, or 8.  I was pretty young.
     My mother took me to the Memorial Day observance at Graceland Cemetery in Chicago.
     Graceland is a really neat cemetery.  There is a statue by Lorado Taft that is made of copper.  When I was little, the stature scared the living daylights out of me.  The greenish patina, the pose, the general atmosphere was just frightening to a little kid.
     And yes, we went to the cemetery a lot.  My mom's family was buried there.  And it was a quiet, green oasis in the city.  We sometimes went there for picnics...sitting on a little island in a small pond.  Like I said, it was quiet.
     Anyway, this particular Memorial Day we were in the cemetery.  I seem to recall following the parade down Irving and going into the cemetery at the end of the veterans and color guard.
     At some point, someone gave me a little flag to hold.
     At the cemetery, I was standing quietly holding the flag when a man in uniform came up to me and grabbed the flag out of my hand.  He then yelled at me and accused me of taking the flag off the grave of a veteran.
    My mother told him someone gave me the flag, and the man tried to give it back.  But it was too late.  I was too scared to take it.  I don't think he ever apologized either.  After all, I was just a kid.
     If I was the age I think I was, this would have been about 1955 or 56,
Korea had recently ended, and World War II was only over by 10 or so years, so the wounds of this veteran were still pretty raw.
     I always wonder when we will learn, as a human race, that all wars have a price that has to be paid, sooner or later.
     It makes me cringe when I read about people attacking their fellow citizens about their religion or nationality or sexuality because I do believe those veterans died for our rights, our liberties, our freedom to choose what we believe, and how we practice that belief.
     I salute those who made the ultimate sacrifice to protect those freedoms we hold most dear.
     And if I could, I would tell that man in the cemetery that it's ok, I think I understand.