It is early morning as the day unfurls, while the flags are unfurled on this Memorial Day spilling streaks of red and white stripes along with a field of deep blue spangled with white stars.
You can almost hear a thousand pots of coffee percolating all over town as everyone prepares for a day of remembrance and reflection.
Barbecues are being cleaned and connected to natural gas for later in the day.
Most holidays are joyful, but this one is sad and mournful.
It is a day off from work but not for shopping and frivolities.
An old soldier is polishing the buttons on his uniform and shining his dress shoes.
Somewhere a marching band is practicing with their instruments.
American Bald Eagles are leaving their nests to hunt for their fledglings high above the Hudson River.
An old warrior in uniform is rolling down Main Street in Ossining with a jug for donations and a pocket full of red poppies, being greeted by some and avoided by others. He is fully cognizant of those ingrates who cross the street to avoid eye contact and the customary donation to the Veterans Association.
A little girl dressed in a navy-blue dress with white shoes, and red beret approaches the old soldier and removes a bill from her small pocketbook and places it in the jug.
“Thank You, Sir, for your service.”says the little girl.
“Thank You little girl!” says the old warrior handing the girl a poppy as his cracked weary face lightens up for a moment, temporarily forgetting the many faces that haunt him of those companions who never made it back home from the battlefields of Europe.
Prisoners sit in their cells at nearby Sing Sing reflecting on their squandered lives.
New recruits at nearby West Point Academy study and workout and dream of their future accomplishments.
The wonderful, combined smell of five hundred barbecues float down Main Street.
The old soldier’s jug is filled now, and he is running out of red poppies in his pocket. His brass buttons are bursting with pride from the many accolades that he has received today.
Each streetlamp on Main Street displays the picture of a soldier who has paid the ultimate price for his or her country while every house has a flag on display as the parade comes down the street.
F-18’s can be heard screeching over the Hudson River, long before they can be seen flying past West Point Academy.
The American Bald Eagles are flying home to their aeries with fish for their fledglings.
It has been a good and respectful day.
Jim- May 25’
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