Requiem

It is Memorial Day weekend, the official start of the summer season! There is a steady movement of boats passing by along the highway, headed to "The Lake." The weather, for now, is beautiful. I hope families will enjoy time together. As so many of you know, time passes quickly and sometimes, sadly, tomorrow never comes.

Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, was established as a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation's service. My family is not inundated with military history, but each generation does boast a few superheroes...dating back to the patriots of the American Revolution. Of this heritage, I am quite proud. The Daughters of the Revolution plaque in honor of John Blackburn can be found in Dandridge, Tennessee. I will visit the grave of his descendant this weekend, the man who traveled to Missouri from the east to begin anew. Also named John, he was a Civil War veteran, proudly serving the Union in a sea of Confederate-held territory. I have visited his home. It is privately owned and at the time of my visit was undergoing renovation. The bloodstained wood floors in the entryway of the house ~ which was captured by the Confederates and made into a military hospital, while they attempted to unsuccessfully hang John three separate times in his front yard ~ has not faded. Nearly 150 years later, it remains as a testament that some gave all.

There are several men in my life who set the stage for my unfailing patriotism. First and foremost, my father, Carl J. Sanders... I remember so many evenings talking about plans for my own possible entrance into the United States Navy. As a teenager, a shipful of "dress whites" was motivation enough, but regardless, I know my father would have been proud for me to follow in his footsteps. I contemplated no less than the Naval Academy. I wonder how different life might have been if I had followed that pull.

Carl J. Sanders

United States Navy

Cuban Missile Crisis

Carl L. Sanders

United States Army

Liberation of Dachau Concentration Camp

Awarded the Purple Heart

John W. Hayes

United States Navy

World War II

I can't help but include the words to the following letter. I encountered it during some research and it makes me cry. Letters like these are a lost art. Unfortunately, sentiments such as these are as well. Click on the title to hear the words. The haunting lilt of Ashokan's Farewell plays in the background.

Sullivan Ballou's Civil War Letter

July 14,1861

Camp Clark, Washington DC

Dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. And lest I should not be able to write you again I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I am no more. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this government, and to pay that debt. Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but omnipotence can break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly with all those chains to the battlefield. The memory of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God, and you, that I have enjoyed them for so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes and future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and see our boys grown up to honorable manhood around us.
If I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I loved you, nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name... Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have sometimes been! But, 0 Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they love, I shall always be with you, in the brightest day and in the darkest night... always, always. And when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again...