Memorial Day

 

Photo of Miss Columbia by Jorge Daniel.

On this day I decide to head out early just to sit in the quietness of the morning on this Memorial Day. Today the early morning fog envelopes Miss Columbia with peace. I love sitting alone in this solitude. I do my best thinking during these moments. I know her stories so well. I love telling them. I love telling them to you, and this morning, I guess I tell them to myself as I watch folks meander down to the square. This scene is no different from other scenes across our land, but this one is ours.

I look up to the top of Miss Columbia. She is barely visible in the fog. Of course, she wasn’t always here. When Thomas Gale and Cornelius Gilmore arrived in 1837, it was just wilderness and wetlands. The center of town soon became the meeting place. Where else could you hear the news? Bring your horse and buggy or wagon to town, hitch them up to the hitching posts around the watering hole and go on about your business. The small wooden shops carried everything the early settlers needed…garden seeds, plows, material for dresses, jars of candy for the youngsters, and yes, the place to hear all the news. I would have liked this. I still like this.

Following the Civil War, there were rumblings about a monument. For a long while, it was just rumblings. Folks talked about it, and even a few tried to get it going. Then along came Jesse Carpenter. Jesse was a Civil War Veteran. He is remembered at best for writing a book, “The War for the Union.” This book, available to read at the Angola Carnegie Library, is a detailed historical account of Steuben County’s soldiers. Jesse’s book sold for three dollars with all the proceeds going towards a monument. In July of 1916, the Grand Army of the Republic petitioned the Steuben County Commissioners to finally build this monument. The dedication ceremony was held on September 13, 1917. According to newspaper articles, there were bands and speeches, and I even read once that folks camped out for three days in pure joy.

Under Miss Columbia are the plaques with all the names of the1,278 soldiers from our county. Every single one. When I give tours of the town, I always point out the role of women during this time also. As the Civil War progressed, the men left plows and farms, shops and businesses to the women while they were gone. It is our history, and these are our stories.

As I sit in the silence of this gray foggy morning, I think about all of this. I try to imagine life during previous times and the folks who built our town, our way of life. As I sit contemplating, the square fills up with those folks coming to share in the morning. I stay back in the shadows with my own thoughts. My grandfather and my uncle served, and I fiercely remember them on this day. My grandpa was only 16 during the First World War. He lied about his age so he could defend our country. As we remember, I look at all the small wooden crosses. This has been a tradition in our county for so many years. Once upon a time, the high school girls made paper flowers and walked down to decorate each cross.

As we move always forward in our own lives, how can we not remember them on this day? I listen for taps before I meander on home the back way. Home for me is my pretty little purple house built long before I arrived in this world, or any of you for that matter. I notice the deer have once again knocked down my Oriole feeder. I find it in the grass and refill the jelly luring the Orioles to come back! I notice also, as the sun finds its’ way through the clouds, that my peony bush has opened up on this morning. One of the reasons I bought my house so many years ago was the blooming peony bush, and right on schedule it bloomed this morning.

I go inside to make my morning tea…the sun is now filtering in through the windows, warming the house, pushing my freshly planted seeds out of the ground as summer has officially started. I go about my morning thinking about the past. We all should. 

This day will pass, but our stories will not be forgotten.