My father and mother are buried in a military cemetery in North Alabama. I’d go there today if I could. Since I’m eight hundred miles away, I went to Houston National Cemetery. It was touching to see how many other people had the same idea–entire families looking at names on stones, placing flowers and flags, probably most of them on the graves of strangers.
There’s something particularly sobering about seeing the letters KIA on the stone of a young person whose tour of duty lists Iraq.
You can click (multiple times) on any of these photos to see them larger.
Thanks for the photos. It’s amazing how every national cemetery looks the same. We have Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery here, which is the fourth largest national cemetery in the U.S. Over 150,000 veterans and casualties from every U.S. battle, skirmish and war from Lexington to the present day are buried there. Each year on the day before Memorial Day the Boy Scouts from the area go out and place a small American flag in the front of each stone.
All of my uncles and one aunt who served in the military are buried there. I never visit on Memorial Day anymore, because the older I get the more I cry. The cemetery overlooks the Mississippi River. And yes, deers and other wildlife from the surrounding wooded areas often walk among the graves.
the older I get the more I cry
I understand.
Ah, Becky, I wish I’d known. I could have driven up there and laid a wreath for you.
Aw, that’s so sweet. I believe you would do it, too! Thank you for that.