Memorial Day Monday, Decoration Day, a tradition and an observance that began back after the Civil War when freed slaves decorated the graves of deceased Union soldiers.
To some it is the first holiday of the ensuing summer season. To many others it is a just a paid holiday. But to me, a veteran of the United State Marine Corp, it is a day to remember, to honor the fallen, to pray for those who serve today, and give thanks for two fellow Marines whom I am proud to call Mom and Dad.
So the morning parade is finished and on this Memorial Day I want to pay homage to the two of them. Not for the what they did, it was ordinary, but for who they are.
My Mom grew up in Wappingers Falls, a sleepy little burg located in Dutchess County, in the heart of New York’s Hudson Valley. Raised in a loving Irish Catholic family she attended school there and participated in both women field hockey, and cheer-leading, before graduating. After high school, in 1942, she enlisted in the Marine Corp because our country was at war, and like her older brother who was already in the Army, Mom wanted to serve. Her dad, my grandfather, was a "doughboy" in WWI and although he tried to discourage her from enlisting he was nonetheless proud that his both his kids had chosen to serve. The young enlistee upon graduation from boot camp went to school to learn how to work on airplanes. She was then transferred to Cherry Point North Carolina where she would meet the man she always described as the love of her life.
My father hailed from Wyandotte, Michigan. He was the fourth boy in a family of six. Also an Irish Catholic, dad led a pretty undistinguished life through high school. He graduated in 1942 and immediately entered the Marine Corp. He would be joining his three older brothers all who would all serve overseas during war. Dad graduated from both Officer Candidate School and flight school before becoming a Marine aviator. He was then sent to NAS Cherry Point NC. It was in Cherry Point while in a hangar he first saw the striking young woman marine working near one of the F-4U Corsairs he frequently flew in. Although instantaneously smitten, the young 2nd Lt would find that the task of wooing the lady Marine from New York daunting. She already had a boy friend from home who was serving in Europe.
The first date was to Mass on Sunday. My mother thought if my father's intention were honorable he would have no problem attending services with her. He accompanied my mother that Sunday to church as he would thousand more times more before he died. That trip to Mass led the two would begin a love affair that would lead to nine offspring and forty three years of love and marriage.
After the WWII they would move back to Michigan where they would assume ordinary lives. But to me they were more than ordinary, they were in fact extraordinary. My father worked in a factory, in the evening attended night school, and on weekends continued serving in Marine reserves for almost 20 years.
My mother was, without exception a loving mother, and homemaker. She made sure her brood was fed well, wore clean clothes, and did their homework. She knew how to mete out justice if anyone of her kid’s stepped out of line. She commanded respect and love and it was given to her in spades. We were taught to polite and courteous. If we were engage in behavior that was less than appropriate and were caught doing so, punishment was both swift and fair.
Both of my parents would make sure that all nine children received a good education and to that end we attended a Catholic school. My parents immersed themselves in our lives by attending parents conferences, school plays, various sporting events, chaperoning dances, and making sure we attended church each week as a family. They raised their children with values and instill in us the notion that it is only thorough hard work you succeed. Although we did not have all that we might have wanted we were given all that we needed as we grew up.
My parents quite simply wove our family into the fabric which is America. They did what so many other of their generation did. After the war they return home to raise a family, serve their communities, join fraternal and social organization, and lived lives that were routine and ordinarily middle class.
Despite keeping hectic schedules they were both precinct delegates for as long as I could remember, attending Democratic Party meetings, gave rides to polls to the elderly, volunteering their services, and those of their children, to pass out leaflets for whatever politician they were supporting. One my earliest political memory was going from door to door doing a literature drop for our Congressman, John Dingell. My father was appointed to serve on the city urban renewal commission, and eventually unsuccessfully ran twice for city council.
In 1970, just five days after graduation, I too answer the call and joined the Marines. Although proud of the branch I chose to join my parents could not hide their fear due to the still ongoing Vietnam War. Nonetheless, they relented and signed to allow their seventeen year old son to leave for boot camp five days after my high school graduation.
I have learn a lot in my sixty three years of life but it was from my Marine parents I was first taught the meaning of love, disicpline, service, faith, and sacrifice.
In 1987 my father died. I recall as I write this diary that morning as my older brother and I were making the funeral arrangements we contacted the Marine Detachments in both Detroit and Selfridge ANG Base to secure a color guard to assist the family as pall bearers, present the flag to my mother, and plays taps. Even though my father would spend almost 21 years as an officer in the reserves our request was declined by both organizations. After some deliberation we contacted Congressman Dingell. A short time later we received a call from the Marines informing our family that they would in fact be providing full military honors to my father and apologizing for any confusion.( I have a great deal of respect and admiration for John Dingell. He didn't forget his friends, worked tirelessly for little man, and remained true to Democratic values).
My mother turns 92 in two months. She continues to practice her faith, set an example for all of her children, and dote over her 21 grandchildren and 32 great grandchildren. She supports the Democratic Party, can remember her own mother as one of the early suffragists who fought for women's right to vote, and as a strong an independent woman my mother would love to live long enough to see the first woman president.
In the end my parents were both just ordinary. Their lives did not make headlines, No, their story is written in the success they achieved in raising nine children none of whom ran afoul of the law, fell into drug or alcohol abuse, and thankfully each of their kid's have raised families in the same fashion. Mom and Dad enjoyed raising their family, giving of themselves to their communities and their church. They were in fact ordinary because they joined countless other veterans of the World War II era in returning home and doing exactly the same. Just another strand of American fabric, except I was blessed to be part of that strand.
To those who have given the ultimate sacrifice, May you rest in peace! Thank you and your families.
To the men and women of the Armed Service who serve this nation at home, abroad, and in far away places while being placed in harms way, my continued prayers and abiding respect goes out to each of you and your loved ones. Stay safe, God speed, and know you are not forgotten.
To veterans everywhere, I salute you. I am proud to be one of you.
Finally, to my Mom and Dad, I love and thank you. I am all that I am because of your love, guidance, example, and patience. Later this afternoon i will listen to your favorite song "I’ll Be Loving You Always, "and say a prayer that I can continue to make you both proud.
Love, your son.