definitely a day to stop in this busy world and reflect on those that have made the ultimate sacrifice to protect the Freedom that we too often take for granted. pics from an event with car show in Nor Cal. View attachment 2626898 View attachment 2626893 View attachment 2626893
To some, Memorial Day is the first official lake day or merely a sign of the beginning to summer. For others, it’s a solemn day. It is a day to remember those who have given the ultimate gift…the gift of their life for others. I would like to share a quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., “Our dead brothers still live for us, and bid us think of life, not death -- of life to which in their youth they lent the passion and joy of the spring. As I listen, the great chorus of life and joy begins again, and amid the awful orchestra of seen and unseen powers and destinies of good and evil our trumpets sound once more a note of daring, hope, and will.” Give thanks to those who paved the way with ultimate gift. HRP
I will watch the movie today "We were soldiers". The movie is from the book " We were soldiers once...and young". Such an apt description for a lot of the guys that gave all in all the wars. God bless them.
Thank you to all the Vets that served their Nation proud and payed the ulitmate sacrifice for us... RIP in peace.. God bless you Dad, RIP Dale R. Mellinger MSGT U.S.A.F. Korea, Veitnam... If you see a Vet thank them for the service to our Nation... Thank you to all our men and women in uniform who serve now ! God Bless you all !
A good time to reflect on how and why we enjoy the liberty and freedom that many others can only imagine. Lest we forget...
Somehow Main Street in Ridgefield, is different on Memorial Day. I think of the Revolutionary War battle fought on it in 1777, and all the Veterans that have walked or driven up and down it since. It is a day to remember those that give us the freedom to enjoy the life we have today.
If it weren't for generations of brave Americans,we would not enjoy the life that we live.Thank you to all of those who are serving and to those who have served.God Bless America.
This is one of the special days that I pause and remember My Father.The other is his birthday 11-11-1896.He served in the trenches in ww1,along with his oldest brother. I also remember other family members who have served such as one of mycousins who served in Shermans with Patton.God bless all who have served,who are now serving,and who will serve in the future. Good luck.Have fun.Be safe. Leo
This weekend is always hard on me. My brothers you will always be in my heart. Until we regroup. Lost during OEF 2010-2011 2/502 IN
Lest we forget.............. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
Thanks to all who have served our great country like my Dad did in WW ll. A very good friend of mine gave his life over North Vietnam. RIP Ralph. I love you man. Hopefully we will meet again some day. You are a true American Hero.
HRP, Thank you for your post and the quote therein. It is indeed a solemn day. I have done considerable research into My Family Genealogy. I can truthfully say that I am Proud of My Family History. Like many families in America, we have had a Family Member Serving this Country in "Every War" since the Revolutionary War. I recently learned of a close friends loss So Many Years Ago. For privacy I will call this friend J. Our friendship has been ongoing since 1977 and I recently found at that J's Dad had served in WWII and was killed in Italy and is buried in the Rome-Sicily Military Cemetery. It took a lot of understanding when I found out that J never knew his "Real Dad" After the war, J's mother married again and J was adopted by the only man he would ever know as a Father. The stepfather survived the war and did a Fine Job raising J and his half brothers and sisters. There were many moments shared by phone as we spoke of the situation with 32 years of friendship shared. I now understand what a great sacrifice that many Families endured in those war years. I am sure that there are many stories such as this and that some will never be told. For those who Paid the Price, We salute You and Honor You on This Day................Jeff
While all allied nations remember their fallen, Americans seem to have a special, very passionate (yet almost casual), deeply meaningful manner in which you truly honors those lost. It is abundantly evident that you take your commitment to the safeguarding of life and liberty very seriously and, in turn, the tragic loss of either. I feel as though I have fallen far short in my attempts to describe how I see Memorial Day as a close neighbor but not a son - your patriotism and commitment is why I respect all TRUE Americans so much and wish I was one of you. Steve
Just read over on Military.com that any D-Day or Normandy invasion vet can get a free trip back to Normandy with lodging and meals for them and a guest. I knew a couple of those but they're now gone. Anyway it happens this June so not much time left to get the word out.
Thanks Ryan for allowing space for this. I know it's not hot rod related but the remembrance of our fallen heroes is very important to many of us. Thanks again.
A sincere thank you to all that have served, and are serving. A special thanks to my relatives and friends that have served.
I thought this would be appropriate, from WW1. In Flanders Field In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
Sincere thanks to all fellow vets of all US wars and the righteous passion behind the bullets. 'Mysterious' Vietnam War Memorial | Military.com
Very well expressed Steve,with your attitude I suspect you are a American,at least in your heart! HRP
I believe your Memorial Day is much like our (Australias) ANZAC Day. Both a great day, yet also beset with the pain of lost brothers and sisters. A day that can never truly be described to one who has never served their country. I salute they who gave the ultimate sacrifice and they who fought alongside. Doc.
I hope this is not too long. It was written by Bill Shaffer, the scoutmaster of Troop 26 in Tulsa, OK. He was my scoutmaster years ago (and just celebrated 45 years as SM and still going strong). His parents lived in Bartlesville, OK when WWII started. His dad went into the Air Force, became a highly decorated pilot. The Bartlesville paper ran regular articles about how he accompanied and protected bombers on their runs. But his luck ran out, and he died when his plane was shot down. His body was never found. Bill never met his dad, as he was born after his father's death. What he wrote for Memorial Day (written in 2006) is worth reading, in my opinion. Memorial Day. A national holiday. Picnics. Ultimate frisbee. Hotdogs and burgers. Watermelon. Softball. People headed for the lake. Little kids in waterwings. Splashing and laughing. The grill. The backyard. Hope the weather cooperates with our plans for Memorial Day. People doing what they want. At what price? America. The superbowl of democracies. The best game in the world. Sure, some people have better seats but you can always work hard and upgrade. Everyone can dream about the luxury boxes. Some people have premium parking and some take the bus. Some have to walk. Sure, some people get too loud but the ushers handle that and protect your ability to see the game. There is a lot of stuff to buy out in the tunnels. You can't afford all of it but someday you might. There are two teams playing and you can support whichever one you want. You can yell and clap and stand and cheer. Somebody sings a song at the start of the game and some guys walk out on the field with some flags. But you don't have to sing. You don't even really have to stand up but most people do. Some even take their hats off. Its a great game, this superbowl of democracies. But as exciting as the game is, you can't get in without buying a ticket. But in America, we're lucky. We can walk right in because somebody else has already paid the price of the ticket. We ought to thank them but more often than not, we don't know their names. Out of sight, out of mind....right? We just walk right in and participate in the superbowl of democracy and don't give it another thought. Today, I wonder who bought my ticket. Sure, I like hotdogs and watermelon. I like to play horseshoes and football and softball. But I want to know who bought my ticket. You don't get anything in this world for nothing and I have a lot to be thankful for. Who paid? Who made it possible? Who bought the ticket for me? Was it a guy at Concord and Lexington. A guy who really wanted to be a farmer but decided to get his rifle down off the wall above the fireplace because he believed in a new idea for his children. Did he stand there in the street, watching the most powerful army in the world walking towards him, dressed in bright red with flags flying, pipes playing, sunlight gleaming off the tips of thousands of bayonets? Was he scared? Did he think of his family as he fell? Was it a guy in 1812? Watching from across the road as the White House burned. Do you think he wanted to keep this grand idea of democracy alive a little longer so that his children could live in freedom. Do you think he wondered if these men dressed in red coats would ever leave him alone to raise his family in peace? Was it a guy who watched his brother fall at Gettysburg? Was he scared too? Did he cry when the man next to him fell? Did he think about running when the officer he respected was blown off the horse he was riding? Did he have a wife? Did he have a son? Was his last thought of them? Was it a guy in World War I? Lying scared in a trench. Waiting for the signal to get up and run towards an unseen enemy who was right at that very minute pointing a gun in his direction. Do you think he thought about his childhood in Alabama or Texas or Maryland? Do you think he might have liked watermelon? Was it a guy in World War II? A guy who watched as some Americans on a distant hill struggled to raise a beautiful red, white, and blue flag amid a hail of bullets from an enemy who was dedicated to destroying this grand idea Americans had grown to love. Was it a guy in Korea? Charging up Pork Chop Hill and taking it, then losing it, then taking it again. A hill. A man giving his life for a hill. Anybody know where Pork Chop Hill is? Or that street in Lexington? Or that trench in France? Anybody visited Bataan lately or visited Normandy? Anybody vacationed at the spot where Douglas MacArthur stepped out of the boat when he returned to the Philippines? Or the spot where George Washington got in the boat to cross the Delaware. Anybody watch the people playing frisbee with their dog at Valley Forge and give a single thought to the men who froze there for this grand idea. Anybody head for the local picnic ground and drive past the silent fields of Gettysburg. The gentle breeze and the calls of songbirds in the lush forests are all that remain of the place where blood ran like rivers, where men in blue and men in gray lay side by side in death. Was it a guy in Viet Nam? A guy who left his family to fight a war nobody liked. A guy who shed a tear as he was pushed in a wheelchair through an airport lobby, listening as people laughed and pointed at him, flinching as a hippy stepped up and spit on him, the spit landing on the spot where his leg used to be. Was it a guy in Desert Storm or Desert Shield. A guy standing in a place whose name he couldn't pronounce. A place covered in sand. A place where death could come in the form of a child. Was it a guy who rode the first tank into the Nazi death camps? Was it a guy who watched General Lee sign the surrender at Appomattox? Was it a guy who watched the Japanese sign their surrender on the deck of one of America's war ships? Was it a guy who found the leader of Iraq cowering in a hole after being responsible for the deaths of millions of his own countrymen? I wonder if those countrymen dreamed of America. Was it a guy who walked home to the farm from the Battle of Lexington, put his rifle back up on its place above the mantle, picked up his little son, and stood on his porch, looking at a land that was free for another day. Who bought my ticket? Who made it possible for me to chose my path in life? Who made it possible for me to live in a country without fear? I want to know. Before I eat that hotdog or throw that frisbee. Before I head for the lake. I want to know. And I want other Americans to wonder too. I want Republicans and Democrats to wonder who bought their tickets. I want the Dallas Cowboys and the New York Yankees to wonder who bought their tickets. I want the Dixie Chicks to wonder who paid for their tickets. As we see all those little men with their VFW hats on with all their medals and pins, proudly displayed on bodies with missing limbs , wrinkles and liver spots, I want Americans to wonder how many tickets they bought. Those little men with tears on their faces as they remember fallen comrades and places with funny names where they left their youth, I want Americans to look at them and wonder about the tickets they bought. I want Americans to look at these little men and remember them as the giants they once were. And when we see Arlington Cemetery and the places in France where the white crosses stand in row after row as far as the eye can see, we should all think of the men and women who paid the ultimate price for a ticket. When I have taken the time to think of these men and women, when I have taken the time to think of the price they paid for my ticket, when I think of the families and children that they left behind to live in a land that is safe and free, when I think of all those little boys who were never coached by their dad or had their dads see them hit a home run or score a touchdown, when I think of all those little girls whose mothers will never see them in their wedding dress or see the birth of their grandbaby, when I think of all those men and women in uniform who left their families to go to foreign shores in search of my ticket, when I stop what I am doing and celebrate the gift of freedom and remember the people who gave that gift to me..... then.....and only then......will I eat that hotdog on Memorial Day. Thanks Dad! Thanks for my ticket. Bill Shaffer Memorial Day, 2006
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