back from the northshore...
went to Duluth for my stepfathers memorial service. he died in August and due to a myriad of reasons, his memorial service was delayed for several weeks.
basically only family attended. my sister, who had little regard for our stepfather as did i, ended up doing most of the planning. she kept it simple and delegated as much to others as possible. since he had been actively involved with the VFW for years, they presented a color guard for the ceremony. it was impressive.
we arrived on a drizzly, northern minnesota morning to bid our final farewell. i with my wife and one daughter; my sister and her husband and children; my stepfathers sister and brother, one nephew. also attending was my stepfathers live in girlfriend and her family; sisters, sons and daughter.
the site was on a slight knoll, topped with a flagpole from which the American flag hung rather limply due to the weather. it was almost as though the flag had bowed in honor to the passinf of another veteran. it seemed to add a certain solemnity to the service that none of us had anticipated.
the color guard with a bugler stood at attention beneath the flag. i notice that the guard unit did not stand in formation. it almost seemed as though one member was missing. that missing member would be exposed as the service played out.
the deacon conducted the service; we bowed our heads as we prayed; we acknowledged one anothers presence and accepted each others grief as the gravesite service concluded. only the salute and taps were left to be displayed.
suddenly, the commander of the unit called for roll. i gasped as the units leader called my stepfathers name. obviously, he did not answer. he called again. still he did not answer. once more he repeated the call and still no answer. i almost felt tempted to respond for him lest he get in trouble for being AWOL, but i didn't, knowing there was a scene to play out. then he told the unit commander that Pat Olson was gone.
three other members then stepped forward carrying a rifle, a helmet, and a pair of boots. one by one, the set these items befor the commander; rifle bayonet down, helmet on the butt of the rifle, boots alongside. at this point the commander made the statement that Pat Olson had departed. Pat Olson was the missing member of the color guard. the members returned to their line and once again stood at attention.
two members stepped forward to fold the flag that was presented by the Unit Commander. then the color guard, with one member missing, gave the rifle salute. the bugler played taps completing the service.
needless to say, there were no dry eyes among the attending. and even now, i well up recalling the scene that played out that misty morning on a hill beneath the American flag that hung limply as though it grieved for one of its own......
basically only family attended. my sister, who had little regard for our stepfather as did i, ended up doing most of the planning. she kept it simple and delegated as much to others as possible. since he had been actively involved with the VFW for years, they presented a color guard for the ceremony. it was impressive.
we arrived on a drizzly, northern minnesota morning to bid our final farewell. i with my wife and one daughter; my sister and her husband and children; my stepfathers sister and brother, one nephew. also attending was my stepfathers live in girlfriend and her family; sisters, sons and daughter.
the site was on a slight knoll, topped with a flagpole from which the American flag hung rather limply due to the weather. it was almost as though the flag had bowed in honor to the passinf of another veteran. it seemed to add a certain solemnity to the service that none of us had anticipated.
the color guard with a bugler stood at attention beneath the flag. i notice that the guard unit did not stand in formation. it almost seemed as though one member was missing. that missing member would be exposed as the service played out.
the deacon conducted the service; we bowed our heads as we prayed; we acknowledged one anothers presence and accepted each others grief as the gravesite service concluded. only the salute and taps were left to be displayed.
suddenly, the commander of the unit called for roll. i gasped as the units leader called my stepfathers name. obviously, he did not answer. he called again. still he did not answer. once more he repeated the call and still no answer. i almost felt tempted to respond for him lest he get in trouble for being AWOL, but i didn't, knowing there was a scene to play out. then he told the unit commander that Pat Olson was gone.
three other members then stepped forward carrying a rifle, a helmet, and a pair of boots. one by one, the set these items befor the commander; rifle bayonet down, helmet on the butt of the rifle, boots alongside. at this point the commander made the statement that Pat Olson had departed. Pat Olson was the missing member of the color guard. the members returned to their line and once again stood at attention.
two members stepped forward to fold the flag that was presented by the Unit Commander. then the color guard, with one member missing, gave the rifle salute. the bugler played taps completing the service.
needless to say, there were no dry eyes among the attending. and even now, i well up recalling the scene that played out that misty morning on a hill beneath the American flag that hung limply as though it grieved for one of its own......
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