My Dad served in the Navy in WWII and the Korean War.  Much of his WWII service was on the USS Denver, a light cruiser.  His Navy stories were mostly about his buddies and their shenanigans; how they would steal extra eggs, play pranks and get thrown in the brig for returning late from shore leave.  Dad talked about the food and the discipline of life on the ship.     

The Navy took Dad across the world.   He loved traveling and being on the water.  Dad often talked about the exotic plants and fruits he learned about on those travels.   He rarely talked about battle.  Dad once told me about when his ship, the USS Denver, was torpedoed.  It was a thrilling and terrible story (for another day).

Growing up, Memorial Day was the day we unfurled the flag and flew it the rest of the summer.  Dad marched in the Memorial Day Parade.  Mom would sometimes march with the Ladies Auxiliary.   Dad would wear his Navy uniform, and march with the other members of the VFW Post 8495, including his brother, and other distant relatives and family friends.  The parade ends at Potter Place with a remembrance ceremony.  After the parade, we’d have a cookout and Dad would grill hamburgers and hotdogs.

My Dad was one of the founding members of our VFW post.  He helped build the actual building.  My Mom was the Secretary of the Ladies Auxiliary for many years.  Both my parents worked on Bingo nights, and years ago, on the Post’s summer carnival fundraiser.  My sisters and I used to help my Mom in the hot dog stand.  As a kid, I didn’t realize all my parent’s activities were done to raise money for the Post, for the VA Hospital and to provide services to veterans and their families.  

As the sun sets on the tranquil picnics this long weekend, the sacrifice by those gone is not forgotten.