Palladino: Enjoy The Games On Memorial Day, But Don't Forget The Other Part
By Ernie Palladino
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Today we celebrate the unofficial start of summer.
The Mets will play the Phillies at Citi Field, the Yanks will face the Royals at Yankee Stadium and hand out some promotional sunscreen to boot, and the rest of us will settle on the beach, in our living rooms, or at any number of backyard barbeques that help us mark Memorial Day.
What we should remember amid the festivities is that today is only half-holiday. The other half is observance.
Today we remember the soldiers who no longer get to listen to John Sterling's home run calls or wonder why, oh why, the Mets haven't hit in, oh, forever. As we discard our cares for a day, we remember those who found another kind of peace; the unwanted, eternal rest gained in foreign lands few ever had any desire to visit, much less fight in.
No one says this day should not proceed without joy. But we must all remember the sacrifices of our servicemen, if only for a moment.
For the people of my hometown, that moment usually came at the American Legion post where the annual parade ended. Headquartered in the old homestead where the town's World War I hero spent a way-too-short youth amid the orchards and pastureland that comprised much of the area, Leroy Gregory Post 979 would conduct a short ceremony.
We bowed our heads. The post chaplain read a prayer. The commander made a short speech. And then my father, standing proud in a Legionnaire's blue-and-gold uniform and white leggings, would snap up his rifle in unison with his six honor guard compatriots, fire three times into the noontime sky, and return to reverent attention as a bugler sounded Taps.
The importance of the moment was lost on nobody. One needed only to look around at the weeping Gold Star mothers to realize the solemnity of the moment. Their childrens' homecomings, if there even was one at all, came with a flag-draped coffin. Somehow, you knew a 21-gun salute just wouldn't fill that kind of void.
The smiles would soon return, as they should. Life goes on, after all. Corn for husking would soon come out. The ice chests with beer and soda would appear. The vets would fire up the grills.
Softballs for the kids and bocce balls for the veterans -- our town was heavily first-generation Italian-American -- would be placed on the large tract of land behind the homestead. The eating and the games would begin.
The holiday had started.
Stadiums across America have supported our troops in recent years with the unfurling of giant flags, military flyovers, and seventh-inning renderings of "God Bless America."
This is good.
Teams of all sports have donated money and other resources to organizations like the Wounded Warrior Project to help the ones who came back broken; the veterans who once dreamed of running bases and scoring touchdowns and now wish only to walk again. Or throw a ball again. Or watch the incredible, athletic stylings of Matt Harvey or Odell Beckham, Jr. through clear eyes again.
That is great.
Today, however, we remember the ones whose dreams of the future vanished in the horrible present of Europe, Asia and the Middle East.
We needn't spend today in mourning. Summer is upon us, and that is reason for celebration alone.
But neither should we pass it off as just another holiday.
Enjoy the games and the grub.
Just leave some time to remember.
To honor.
