The American tradition of Memorial Day began more than 100 years ago. It was at the end of a brutal war, a war in which brother fought brother and the best of friends became the worst of enemies. It was the Civil War. One of the worst wars ever fought by the people of this nation, and it was fought on our own soil. At the end of this war, family members of the many soldiers slain in battle would visit the grave sites of their fallen relatives or friends and decorate their graves with flowers. On May 5, 1868, General John Logan proclaimed this day a holiday through his General Order no. 11. The day was entitled Decoration Day. Decoration day was first observed on May 30, 1868. The northern states celebrated this day every year, but the southern states celebrated a day similar to this on a different day, until sometime after World War I. In 1882, the name Decoration day was changed to Memorial Day, and in 1971, Memorial Day was declared a national holiday to be held on the last Monday of May every year Freedom Is Not Free I watched the flag pass by one day. It fluttered in the breeze. A young Marine saluted it, And then he stood at ease. I looked at him in uniform So young, so tall, so proud, He'd stand out in a crowd. I thought how many men like him had fallen through the years. How many had died on foreign soil? How many mothers' tears? How many pilots' planes shot down? How many died at sea? How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, freedom is not free. I heard the sound of Taps one night, when everything was still I listened to the bugler play And felt a sudden chill. I wondered just how many times That Taps had meant "Amen" When a flag had draped a coffin Of brother or a friend. I thought of all the children, Of mothers and the wives, Of fathers, sons and husbands with interrupted lives. I thought about a graveyard At the bottom of the sea Of unmarked graves in Arlington... No, freedom is not free. Author Unknown Day is done Gone the sun From the lakes From the hills From the sky. All is well, Safely rest. God is nigh. Fading light Dims the sight And a star Gems the sky, Gleaming bright From afar, Drawing nigh, Falls the night. Thanks and praise, For our days, Neath the sun, Neath the stars, Neath the sky, As we go, This we know, God is nigh. Join My Mailing List