I think I have mentioned that my son-in-law is career army, and has served two tours of duty in Iraq. We have been so grateful for his safe return. Early this morning we said goodbye to Al and Ann Ludwig, and headed for a memorial day service to recognize and honor the families of New Mexico?s soldiers killed in the war in Iraq, Kuwait and Afghanistan. It was a profound time for me. Our little mountain village is small, with a population of less than 400 people. They are not people of privilege. There are many veterans in our town, and over the years, the service they saw was usually near the front, commonly in harms way. The same can be said for the people of the Jemez Pueblo.
Memorial day is a big day to the people in Jemez Springs. My wife Barbara had previously made a quilt to send to our son-in-law while he was in Iraq. He described it as an important link to home and family, and a comfort under harsh circumstances.
And this is how the women from the little town of Jemez Springs decided to make a quilt for each of the families who had lost a loved one in the war. Being a teacher, my wife brought hers to class, and let the second graders work on the quilt as well. And that is how I found myself in a small church van with my wife and the other quilters heading for the ?big city? of Albuquerque and the memorial service. It had been decided by the organizers of the service that the women would each present their quilt to a family member. So along with this group of senior adults was one of the second grade students to share in the presentation.
The service itself was very meaningful. Standing in the hot sun a young cadet silently crumbled to the ground. Her sergeant, a bear of a man appeared instantly, and with a tenderness that was striking in such a powerful man scooped her off the ground, into his arms and a place of refuge from the hot sun. A metaphor for America at it?s best.
Soon there followed a 21-gun salute. Our little second grader, a mountain girl no stranger to guns, had instantly drooped to the ground. Throughout the crowd startled young children were crying. A metaphor for the horrors of war.
And now the time has come time for various presentations. From the branches of the military services, and with great honor and dignity the families receive a brick inscribed with the name, rank and date of death of their loved ones. The brick will be returned and permanently affixed to the wall of the memorial park. Then there is a plaque made to hang on the wall of the family members. This is a hard part of the service. There is a name I recognize as Navajo. There is the family of a Mexican young man who had enlisted in the Army, intending this to be a first step on a path to citizenship. There is the story of a young mother who received the call that her son had been killed in Iraq. They described how she took a moment to gather her strength to ask which son. Both of her boys were serving in Iraq.
And now we have come to the presentation of the quilts. The second graders had asked that, if possible, their quilt be given to a child who had lost a parent. That presentation was saved till last, and our seven-year-old student presented their quilt to a seven-year-old boy whose mother was killed in the war. As I finished this post I thought to check the web site for the Albuquerque Journal for the days news. This photo is pulled from the front page of the paper. I wonder about the decision to publish his picture. I suppose the explanation is that it is important for us to really know what it means on a personal level when a nation decides to go to war. The second picture is of my wife Barbara preparing the quilt for presentation. What a wonderful thing she has done. I have seldom felt so proud or sober as I do tonight. And now I need to get to bed. The nights get cold at this altitude, and Barb needs someone to hold back the cold. And I am the perfect man for the job.
Memorial day is a big day to the people in Jemez Springs. My wife Barbara had previously made a quilt to send to our son-in-law while he was in Iraq. He described it as an important link to home and family, and a comfort under harsh circumstances.
And this is how the women from the little town of Jemez Springs decided to make a quilt for each of the families who had lost a loved one in the war. Being a teacher, my wife brought hers to class, and let the second graders work on the quilt as well. And that is how I found myself in a small church van with my wife and the other quilters heading for the ?big city? of Albuquerque and the memorial service. It had been decided by the organizers of the service that the women would each present their quilt to a family member. So along with this group of senior adults was one of the second grade students to share in the presentation.
The service itself was very meaningful. Standing in the hot sun a young cadet silently crumbled to the ground. Her sergeant, a bear of a man appeared instantly, and with a tenderness that was striking in such a powerful man scooped her off the ground, into his arms and a place of refuge from the hot sun. A metaphor for America at it?s best.
Soon there followed a 21-gun salute. Our little second grader, a mountain girl no stranger to guns, had instantly drooped to the ground. Throughout the crowd startled young children were crying. A metaphor for the horrors of war.
And now the time has come time for various presentations. From the branches of the military services, and with great honor and dignity the families receive a brick inscribed with the name, rank and date of death of their loved ones. The brick will be returned and permanently affixed to the wall of the memorial park. Then there is a plaque made to hang on the wall of the family members. This is a hard part of the service. There is a name I recognize as Navajo. There is the family of a Mexican young man who had enlisted in the Army, intending this to be a first step on a path to citizenship. There is the story of a young mother who received the call that her son had been killed in Iraq. They described how she took a moment to gather her strength to ask which son. Both of her boys were serving in Iraq.
And now we have come to the presentation of the quilts. The second graders had asked that, if possible, their quilt be given to a child who had lost a parent. That presentation was saved till last, and our seven-year-old student presented their quilt to a seven-year-old boy whose mother was killed in the war. As I finished this post I thought to check the web site for the Albuquerque Journal for the days news. This photo is pulled from the front page of the paper. I wonder about the decision to publish his picture. I suppose the explanation is that it is important for us to really know what it means on a personal level when a nation decides to go to war. The second picture is of my wife Barbara preparing the quilt for presentation. What a wonderful thing she has done. I have seldom felt so proud or sober as I do tonight. And now I need to get to bed. The nights get cold at this altitude, and Barb needs someone to hold back the cold. And I am the perfect man for the job.
