Honor Has A Face

This weekend, we have an extra day. Memorial Day is the start of Summer, the opening of swimming pools and a celebration of graduation for millions of seniors. In fact, it is the time we remember Americans who have fallen in service to their country. Memorial Day started as a tribute to the Union soldiers after the Civil War. It was call "Decoration Day". The southern states, for obvious reasons, refused to participate.

The term "Memorial Day" was not used until 1882 and was only declared the official name of the day after WWII, being made a national holiday by Congress in 1967. In 1968, Congress moved three holidays to the last Monday in May we now know as Memorial Day: Washington's Birthday (the original date on the calendar renamed President's Day), Veteran's Day and Memorial Day. Veteran's Day was eventually returned to its original date, usually November 11th. Today, most corporations only recognize Memorial Day as an official holiday, choosing not to close for Veteran's Day, President's Day or Columbus Day.

There are two traditions of note. First, the American flag is flown at half-staff from dawn until noon. Another tradition is that there is a national moment of remembrance at 3 p.m. in the afternoon of Memorial Day. That seems like the least that we can do to honor the dead.

For me, my uncle, Harold G. Quackenbush pops into my mind every Memorial Day. I revered him. He served in the United States Army in World War II in Burma where he led a battalion of men and by virtue of his bravery and leadership, was awarded a battlefield commission during his service. He spent most of his life in the Army and in his passing only a year or so ago, was given a military funeral with honor guard. Colonel "Quack" to his family, he was a brilliant man that walked softly but carried a great presence. Tall and commanding, he could be quite intimidating. When he spoke, though, you knew that this was a man that was tender to those he loved. He was the quintessential military man. One of the Great Generation, he served selflessly and with honor.

I remember too, my cousin Mike Johnson. His career in the Army led him to serve in the 82nd Airborne Division. He did a tour in Vietnam. He also served at the tense border at Panmunjom in Korea. He was a drill instructor as well. He retired and then did another career in the National Forest Service, after receiving a degree in Forestry. He is retired, with honor, and living in Texas today near his daughter and grandchild.

We have all been blessed to witness those among us who have served their country. For just a moment this weekend, tell them how much they are admired and loved.

So Much For Global Warming

Waking up to temperatures in the 40's in May, in Atlanta, is weird. The snow in April was strange enough but something tells me that the furor over global warming is more media hype than science. I have studied the issue, though without a background in science or climatology.

A hundred million years ago the dinosaurs roamed a steamy planet. 25 million years ago the glaciers began to recede and began the current epochal climate trends. Now, with merely a hundred years of competent weather data, and a handful of new scientific investigations, some have concluded that mankind is wrecking the planet. Instead, it could be reasonably assumed that we are merely in the groove of what started 25 million years ago. At least to me and hundreds of scientists. But that won't sell newspapers.

This reminds me of the population explosion fears that gripped the headlines a few decades ago. Until, one poor soul like myself realized that you could fit every single human being on the planet in a 2' x 2' square in Jacksonsville, Florida. It kind of died down after that. It appears that we filthy humans are not spilling over into the oceans after all.

But, alas, those we elect get bored and can't resist the temptation to meddle with nature. After Al Gore & Company got through with the mania over CHFC's in the air conditioning industry, which cost us all billions of dollars and untold heartache, it is widely thought that the efforts to change air conditioning freon was a foolhardy mistake. But these are the days of panic over how we all are stupid destroyers of the perfect planet and only now are being led by the few visionaries into the promised land.

In fact, the earth is an incredibly resilient creation. After visiting the Northwestern portion of the United States last month, more specifically the Washington State / British Columbia area, it dawned on me one day in surveying its magnificent beauty, that Mt. St. Helens had erupted only a few years ago, spewing more dust into the air than all our cars put together. Today, there is little sign climatically that it ever happened.

I suppose with government and the media fanning the proverbial flames of this issue, we will all be living greener lives. Some of that is good for the economy so I say, let it snow.

The Gift of One Day

My wife and I had the distinct pleasure of spending time this weekend with a friend that is fighting cancer. I left the experience feeling that I had been uniquely blessed by being there. It was not without some unease that we made the trip to the Lake where our friend, Judy, owns a house. Our mutual friend, Diane, has been diagnosed with an insipid form of cancer that holds a poor prognosis. The alphabet soup of the medical terms now escapes my graying head, but suffice it to say that it laid on our hearts when spoken like a stone.

But we had been a foursome in better times, using the lake house like a private club, playing cards, reading, walking along the shore and engrossed in conversations that wove their ways around the brush and into the lagoons of our memory. This past weekend was a revival of this human chemistry and as usual, left me apologizing for my lack of skill at Bridge and warming in the company of friends. Spring storms ebbed and flowed like a visual reminder of the fragility of life, the importance of each day as a treasure from God.

This is not Diane's first bout with the enemy. She faced and conquered it over a decade ago. She has no doubt that this will be yet another fight in which she will emerge victorious. We couldn't agree more. It was not lost on me how quietly she endured the pain of her recent operation, without complaint, and what fortitude she showed in her unwavering claim of victory this time as well. It will be a formidable challenge. The doctors are not quite as optimistic though she shows no faith in their view. She was remarkably herself and laughter and banter filled the air as in times past. Thankfully, she has other friends and her children standing with her in this battle.

Our gracious hostess, Judy, now faces a trip to Florida this coming week to visit yet another friend, Millie, whose prognosis, with another more insidious form of this disease, is grim. She will go with the knowledge that the pain of the coming loss will be great. But go she will. Undoubtedly, she is the strongest person I know. Her heart is breaking but hides it well as she ministers to friends that soon will know the secret of the passing of one life into another. This, to me, is the true measure of friendship. It is easy to enjoy good times and share in excess. It is harder, much harder to love unconditionally when grief is the theme of life's experience. The peripheral strains of disagreement on temporal things disappears at the end of one's journey. The heart of a true friend forgives all, remembers no wrongs, no hurts, only the joy of knowing the other.

Diane and Millie are truly blessed to have Judy in their life. As are we.