More so than previous Veterans Day events at the high school, this year's ceremony seemed to elevate itself with a palpable patriotism that was decidedly uplifting.
Student from many grades participated in choirs, in speaking roles, in behind-the-scenes preparations, in the band (performing service songs or playing "Taps"), or otherwise ardently waving flags and cheering the sacrifice and dutiful commitments of our veterans.
Then, Saturday morning, I slipped downtown to attend the local Veterans Day Parade.
Several area high school bands marched and a number of local organizations were represented. A bus-van from a local nursing home drove the parade route with veterans from the home. Though the windows were so darkly tinted as to make it difficult to discern any figures inside, I could make out the motions of a waving hand, so I waved back enthusiastically.
I had an unexpected emotional blow when a vehicle came by with Gold Star Mothers. I figure there were at least some attendees lining the street that didn't not know the significance of that designation -- that these were mothers who'd lost a son or daughter in service of the country.
There were overweight, fez-topped Shriners balanced precariously on tiny cars -- speeding along in figure-eight formations. And, as is inevitable in these parades, the caravan of old farmers riding their aged tractors.
Then, Saturday morning, I slipped downtown to attend the local Veterans Day Parade.
Several area high school bands marched and a number of local organizations were represented. A bus-van from a local nursing home drove the parade route with veterans from the home. Though the windows were so darkly tinted as to make it difficult to discern any figures inside, I could make out the motions of a waving hand, so I waved back enthusiastically.
I had an unexpected emotional blow when a vehicle came by with Gold Star Mothers. I figure there were at least some attendees lining the street that didn't not know the significance of that designation -- that these were mothers who'd lost a son or daughter in service of the country.
There were overweight, fez-topped Shriners balanced precariously on tiny cars -- speeding along in figure-eight formations. And, as is inevitable in these parades, the caravan of old farmers riding their aged tractors.
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