Memorial Day is an important day to me because we honor the men and women who died while serving in the U.S. military. I’m always moved when I hear Taps played.

I always write two or three pieces on Memorial Day. One focuses on history, which is the subject of this piece; another is about Taps, which I usually link in the first piece—but not this year. I also always write one about a friend, Bobby Zoller. Bobby died on July 2, 1970, in the A Shau Valley region of Vietnam. This year, maybe I’ll write about the future of Memorial Day or what it has become, based on an article I read a few days ago.

This year, Memorial Day falls on Monday, May 26. Traditionally, the actual day is May 30, but it was moved in 1971 to the fourth Monday of May to create a three-day weekend. To me, it should have been left alone; the significance of the day is lost to many, turning it into just another Monday off, a three-day weekend.

Formerly known as Decoration Day, it originated in the years following the Civil War, and I can still remember calling it by its former name. When I was a kid, it meant a parade and a trip to the cemetery. There was a 21-gun salute and the playing of Taps, and as soon as the ceremony ended, all the little boys would race to grab as many shell casings ejected from the guns as they could. After decades, we no longer have a local parade.

There appears to be some confusion about three distinct military observances, and you may often see photographs mislabeling them. I never fault those who get it wrong. Memorial Day honors those who died while in military service. Veterans Day celebrates the service of all U.S. military veterans. Armed Forces Day, observed in May, honors those currently serving in the U.S. military.

I know many will spend the day enjoying time with their families and having picnics. But honestly, the day is about those who never came home for another family gathering. Those are the ones I hope you take a moment to remember, whether on the 26th, the 30th, or both. I do both and still call it Memorial Day—a day of remembrance. Today at 3:00 p.m., take a moment to reflect on the real meaning of today.

A friend once asked me why people say “Happy Memorial Day.” I thought about it, and it makes no sense at all. It is a somber day of remembrance for those who have fallen, so I will never again preface it with “Happy.”

May God bless all the brave men and women who have fought and died for our country. We will forever be grateful for your sacrifice. God bless America!

A classmate, Pam, posted this program on a local page for my home area. I remember this. I don’t think about it without a prompt, usually the mention of an old friend, Frank. I don’t recall seeing the program before. We’re listed as the two angels on the right. Neither of us were when we were ten. Fourth-grade boys just aren’t.

As I recall, I had to deliver a long soliloquy over two minutes long, and I was terrified. The funny part was that I was the tallest boy in the class, and Frank was shorter by maybe 4–5 inches. I know it sounds like a lot, but I hit my peak height around seventh or eighth grade. I was tall and what I like to call slender. As you age, it means you’re short and “bulky,” to say it nicely. The height is important to this.

Our angel costumes—sheets—went to the floor. Somehow, Frank’s costume got switched with mine. The effect, I guess, was that we’d look like we were floating or flying. This wasn’t a big-budget production. But the program does indicate we had a costume designer, and my costume included wings.

So anyway, my costume ended up at my ankles, making me look like an angel with tennis shoes and knee-high jeans. Frank looked like he had a wedding dress and a train. I remember it was noticed before we went on stage, but there was no time for a costume change; the show must go on as they say. We thought it was funny. Looking back, Frank probably made the switch because it was rather amusing.

My parents seldom took pictures, but maybe for that, they did. I threw one together using an AI program. In 1962, we didn’t take 800 pics a day, not including our breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Now, it’s your turn. I noticed something else you don’t see anymore—at least five things. Plus at least one typo and misspelled word for bonus points. Can you see what was common in 1962 compared to now?

By this we know love: because He laid down His life for us, we also ought to lay down our lives for our brethren. 1 John 3:16 (NKJV)

This verse encourages believers to follow Christ’s example by demonstrating selfless love and sacrifice for others. Jesus laying down His life for us is the ultimate act of love. For us, this doesn’t necessarily mean physically dying for others, but rather choosing selflessness, compassion, and generosity whenever possible.

However, we are called to be as much like God as possible. Just as He laid down His life for us, we are sometimes called to sacrifice for our brethren. As Memorial Day approaches, we honor those who have given their lives for others. Just as Christ laid down His life out of love, many brave men and women have made the ultimate sacrifice to protect others, uphold freedom, and serve a greater cause.

May God bless them, and may God bless America.

My daughter, Krystal, is getting ready for her first parade as Loyalty Queen in 1983. To win, she delivered a patriotic speech about America, discussing the Founders and what it means to be an American. The VFW in Ravenna, Ohio, sponsored the event. She was 14 at the time. It led to her winning three times.

Loyalty Day began in 1921 as Americanization Day and was renamed Loyalty Day in 1955 under President Eisenhower to promote patriotism and counter May Day’s association with labor movements and communism.

If the neighborhood looks rundown, it’s because it’s an old neighborhood. It can’t be seen, but my daughter is facing the first home we owned. It’s where I lived while attending law school, studying in a small room where an old man had died. It was bought from an estate; he was probably the previous owner. Back then, you could buy a small home for $17,000.

Our neighbor, Ron, who owned the car, is smoking and talking to my dad. I have no clue who the other girl is.

I tend never to worry because I’ve always felt it’s a pointless exercise to dwell on something beyond my control. For example, a medical test, no amount of worry or lack of it, will change the result. That doesn’t mean I don’t get concerned, but I choose not to let unnecessary anxiety take hold, always remaining optimistic.

While I don’t consciously reflect on this verse, perhaps unconsciously, through belief and faith, it has always been present for me, as it is for all of us. My trust in God’s care isn’t something I have to force; it simply exists, woven naturally into my perspective. It’s available to everyone, just as it is for all of us.