Every Memorial Day, I try to continue instill in my children the idea of the immense sacrifice so many have made in service to our nation.
We are incredibly blessed to have many, many members of the military – active duty, retired, and veterans – who provide a positive role model for my girls, and who instill that sense of pride in our country and respect for those who serve.
Because of this, my girls take a vested interest in military history. They have spent time talking with those who serve and understand the physical, emotional, and invisible toll it takes on the men and women who take that oath.
This year, I was able to write about Medal of Honor recipient US Navy Water Tender Second Class Elmer Bigelow. He saved the USS Fletcher from demise – and allowed it to serve the country in both WWII and Korea, but forfeited his own life. A Hebron native, Elmer and his brother Lester both enlisted in the US Navy. Elmer and Lester met outside of Corregidor during WWII just before Elmer died battling a blaze in the powder cases after taking enemy fire.
As so often happens, I was blessed to find that Lester’s son Scott was in town the day I was writing this piece for The Woodstock Independent. Scott met me to see his father’s and his uncle’s uniforms on display at our local sweet shop, The Sugar Circle.
In talking, I realized that Lester had his own story – aboard the USS West Virginia during the bombing of Pearl Harbor, stationed on the USS Minneapolis which saw intense battle all over the Pacific, and, serving on the Hornet, where he last saw his brother Elmer.
How hard it must have been for Lester to have seen all that he had and to have lost a brother, too. The USS Bigelow was named after his brother. Stories would be told. And, from what Scott told me, Lester let his own stories become the background while Elmer’s remained in the foreground.
That is the very definition of Memorial Day.
Gold Star families suffer much. I think of Brittany Jacobs, whose husband USMC Sgt. Christopher Jacobs was killed in a training accident. His son never really knew his father. I think I think of people I’ve met whose sons were killed in action – US Army Cpl. Keith Nurnberg, USMC Cpl. C.J. Boyd – and I’ve met countless others whose dear friends have not returned from shared missions.
I am committed to not letting their names go unspoken. Their lives live on because of their sacrifice.
For a few days longer, the Woodstock Square will have uniforms up in windows. Some have passed on, some offer to put up their uniforms to honor those who did not return. It is a somber reminder that, in the midst of service, there is grave danger … and we are the home of the free because of those brave.
