I was there simply to report the news, or the lack thereof, as it turned out. I wasn’t a patriotic visitor to the Field of Flags that day, nor was I there to remember a friend or family member honored among the red, white and blue. I was there on an assignment with no attachment to the waving symbols of American freedom.
Sgt. William O. Kelly
But within a moment’s time, tears swelled in my eyes and dampened my cheeks. I’d successfully kept my face dry up until that point despite the looming rainstorm, which canceled that morning’s culminating ceremony. Yet now all of me showed the effects of that somber Memorial Day.
His name was William and he served in the Vietnam War years before my parents ever imagined my existence. He perused the rows of flags dotting the high school baseball field sans an umbrella. The steady raindrops, lingering lightening and erratic booms of thunder did little to dissuade his desire to find the one soggy banner bearing his own name. I stopped him briefly during his search to ask for his name to accompany a photo I snapped for the Tribune’s Wednesday edition. He neared tears as I inquired about his service to our country, so I cut my questions short and let him continue his hunt.
But I found his flag first, and rather than simply ignore that American symbol before me, I yelled across the field and brought his attention my direction. Seconds later, William proudly gazed upon a flag purchased to honor his years of service, and then he somberly strolled to an adjacent damp tribute, upon which he found his father’s name.
He then looked me in the eyes, salty droplets quickly forming in his own, and muttered, “It’s my dad.” And then the tiny tears became weeps as he repeated the phrase. Without warning, I began to cry.
Memorial Day 2010. I entered that baseball field with rain-soaked sneakers and little concern about the significance of each flag waving in the whirling wind. I departed with a solemn swell of appreciation for the men and women who serve our country each day and those who valiantly did so through generations past. I left that patriotic field with much more than I ever expected, and I have William to thank for that.
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this was truly beautiful. memorial day is so much more than just the kick off to summer, thank you for remembering that. <3
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