Rose Park

November 12, 2003

ROSE PARK


The day was cloudy, damp and somber as if all nature knew that it should not intrude on the memories of the people searching the bricks. Many of the bricks had stars each side of the soldiers’ name, telling that he had been killed in action The sounds at Rose Park were of people slowly walking the bricks, looking for a particular name. The crowd stirred as the uniformed color guard brought the stars and stripes into Rose Park for the memorial ceremony to begin. A cannon roared twice and then the names of eleven hundred Kalamazoo men who gave their lives in defense of the nation were being read aloud so that we, the living, would know the price of liberty and freedom. The names were of veterans who should not be forgotten and who knew that there are American ideals worth dying for. Elderly men read the names of the veterans of all the wars from the Civil to the most recent conflict. A uniformed veteran in front of me braced to attention as the names were being read and saluted as a particular name was pronounced. I believe the veteran knew the man and the sacrifice that was made so long ago. Some of the men quietly wiped their eyes, perhaps hoping that not too many people would notice. The street traffic sounds intruded on the solemnity of the occasion so I closed my eyes to concentrate on the names being read. After a time, I noticed that there was a rhythm to the traffic sounds that began to take on the cadence of the reading of the names. I kept my eyes closed and the cadence became the marching sounds of the Ghost Battalion of Kalamazoo; men in Union Blue, WWI Brown, WWII Khaki, shivering from Korean cold, wet from Vietnam sweat, marching past Rose Park. As each line passed, their eyes snapped to the right and their gaze pierced our souls to see if we really understood why they had died and if we are willing to protect their gift of Liberty and Freedom.

Older Wiser