A Writer's Thoughts on Memorial Day

New York, NY —

Today's tradition of honoring the lives sacrificed for our country dates from the Civil War. Writer Kay Merriman Capo has attended memorials for the 60th anniversary of World War II with her father, veteran Paul Merriman. She has these thoughts.

REPORTER: Memorial Day 1993. I was in Washington, DC with my ten-year old son and
his friend. During the Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns
in Arlington, the boys were spellbound. Back at our hotel they
practiced each military gesture, with solemn precision.
That evening we paid our first visit to the Vietnam Memorial--guarded by bikers from "Rolling Thunder" who had roared through Washington in the Vietnam Veterans parade.
As we descended to the Memorial Wall the sky turned gold and I worried
darkness would come before I found his name.
A boy I grew up with in Syracuse.
Then I noticed my face reflected the granite
as the letters of his name rose up to meet me.
I traced each one reverently,
while the boys laid down flowers.
And my chest unbuckled with confusion. I had resisted Vietnam.
After the Ohio National Guard opened fire on four students at Kent
State, I voted to close my university in protest. My husband was a
conscientious objector.
Now, our son was old enough to play soldier and Billy, my classmate,
who was blond, blue-eyed with a round face and solid frame --would never have a son.
My mother called May 30th “Decoration Day” and filled urns with bright
flowers for her parents' graves, an American tradition from the
decorating of Union and Confederate graves.
Today in Normandy, French volunteers will decorate American graves at
Omaha Beach.
Today, I remember my schoolmate,
Billy Cass.
Encountered again-- in cyberspace
As my screen reflects
"The White House Commission on Remembrance"
with its picture of gravestones.
and a flag waving
I click --
the Vietnam Memorial comes up
and his webpage glows:
"WILLIAM DAVID CASS
Marine Corps - SGT - E5
Age - 21
SYRACUSE, NEW YORK"
My eyes sting
It does not say you had brothers, Billy
And were favored by Monsignor Watley
It does not mention your red altar boy cassock
But goes on:
"21 year old Single, Caucasian, Male
Length of service 2 years
Casualty was on Sept. 24, 1967
in QUANG TRI
SOUTH VIETNAM
Hostile, Ground Casualty
Artillery, Rocket, or Mortar
(so much fire, Billy, you must
have been surrounded)
Body was recovered
Religion
ROMAN CATHOLIC
Panel 27E line 5
On the next back lit page
I encounter
Melissa, your niece, who offers a consoling  message:
"Dad has told me at times I look like you.
I wish I could have met you. . . . Uncle Billy.”
In this Virtual cemetery on line,
I watch as a Marine in dress uniform
walks to the Wall
with red, white and blue flowers.
It tells me that today.  At 3 pm.  Precisely/
A National Moment of Silence
will remind us
that even the wars we dispute have their terrible cost.