Most Idahoans Didn’t Appear to Notice it Was Memorial Day

One of my earliest memories as a kid was Memorial Day.  My dad took us to a parade, and parked the car next to the route.  He put a blanket on the hood and sat us there so that we could see the action.  A man named Mr. Galloway came by and said hello.  He was a well-known World War Two veteran in my hometown.  He told my dad that my brother and I looked like our Grandfather Gordon, who had died less than three weeks before my brother was born.

I would go to the parade with my folks for many years, and then on my own when I was old enough to wander around town on my own.  The streets were made of brick when I was a little boy, and I can still hear the sound of the boots clicking the bricks as the colors marched past.

The Weather Didn't Stop Us

One year, the parade took place in a driving rainstorm.  My best friend and I followed the procession to the cemetery.  One of my dad’s cousins had been a P.O.W.  He stood in a gray suit, under an umbrella, and addressed what was a surprisingly big crowd.  My buddy, Howie, and I got soaked.  Howie’s dad had fought in the island-hopping campaign across the Pacific.  All of these people were giants in our thoughts.

This year, I attended the Memorial Day commemoration in Shoshone with a friend.  It was a beautiful day, with sun and birds chirping, and a very small crowd listened to the remarks, which thanked those who gave their lives that we may live as a free people.

After the ceremony, my friend and I dropped by a popular ice cream stand a block away.  It was packed.  I mean, packed to the rafters!  The place is known for its marvelous food and huge portions.

Look, it was a great day for ice cream, but where were all of those people a few minutes before, a block away, at the courthouse?

Don’t give me your bluster about being too busy.  Modern Americans have more leisure time than any generation in history.  Farming is mechanized, milking is no longer done by hand, and thousands had a three-day weekend.

Does it Matter They Died for You?

This is why Memorial Day needs to be restored to May 30^th.  Yes, some years it would fall on a Monday, but most years it would stand alone and perhaps inspire some reverence.  Which it deserves.  There are people buried not far from where I write, and they didn’t get the day off, and they didn’t get ice cream.  They gave their lives for a cause they believed in.

My toughest decision was chocolate or vanilla.  What’s your excuse?

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