Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation's service. There are many stories as to its actual beginnings, with over two dozen cities and towns laying claim to being the birthplace of Memorial Day. There is also evidence that organized women's groups in the South were decorating graves before the end of the Civil War: a hymn published in 1867, "Kneel Where Our Loves are Sleeping" by Nella L. Sweet carried the dedication "To The Ladies of the South who are Decorating the Graves of the Confederate Dead." (Source: Duke University's Historic American Sheet Music, 1850-1920).

Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. The South refused to acknowledge the day, honoring their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every State on the last Monday in May (passed by Congress in 1968 to ensure a three day weekend for Federal holidays), though several southern states have an additional, separate day for honoring the Confederate war dead: January 19 in Texas, April 26 in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Mississippi; May 10 in South Carolina; and June 3 (Jefferson Davis' birthday) in Louisiana and Tennessee.

The World War I Flanders Field American Cemetery and Memorial lies on the southeast edge of the town of Waregem, Belgium. The cemetery occupies a six acre site. Masses of graceful trees and shrubbery frame the burial area and screen it from the passing traffic. At the ends of the paths leading to three of the corners of the cemetery are circular retreats with benches and urns. At this peaceful location rest 368 American military dead most of whom gave their lives in liberating Belgium in World War I. Their headstones are aligned in four symmetrical areas around the white stone chapel which stands in the center of the cemetery.

Memorial Day Review
Soldier's Home, California.

No, Freedom Isn't Free

I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.

I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free.
Author Unknown

Pause to Remember America's Fallen
Wherever You Are
© 2004 The Capitol Times, Madison, Wisconsin,
May 14, 2004

"Soldier, rest! Thy warfare is o'er
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Dream of battled fields no more,
Days of danger, nights of waking.".
Sir Walter Scott

Featured Music: "When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again"

When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again

When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give him a hearty welcome then
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The men will cheer and the boys will shout
The ladies they will all turn out
And we'll all feel gay,
When Johnny comes marching home.

The old church bell will peal with joy
Hurrah! Hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say
With roses they will strew the way,
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.

Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give the hero three times three,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
Patrick S. Gilmore, 1863
Music From Irish street song "Johnny We Hardly Knew Ye".

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