Camillus typifies Memorial Day celebrations* EXCERPTS - read the entire column at Syracuse.com) Thursday, May 25, 2006
By Mario Rossi
(Neighbors West edition of the Post Standard)
Everything seems to be changing in this fast-moving, volatile age of ours, but some traditions manage to continue, thank heavens, thereby transmitting a sentiment that is pure Americana and so, as reassuring as it is enjoyable.
I came to this conclusion in Camillus on Memorial Day.
The village observes the holiday with parade and ceremonies, drawing thousands to a main street which dips from hillside to hillside and is transformed briefly from its customarily staid appearance to a thronged, banner-bedecked thoroughfare.
Children by the score wave American flags, provided free by the generosity of local business people; vendors move through the crowds with balloons and souvenirs; and the spectators stand three, five and even six and seven deep.
It's a great turnout for a great spectacle.
Message comes through With the opening of the program, the real message of the event begins to come through: This is unabashed patriotism, as genuine as it is sentimental - homage to our country and Old Glory, tribute to the fallen heroes of battlefield and rededication to the American ideal.
Is this an anachronism? An anomaly?
We are in pure sunlight, our eyes and ears are open, and the loudspeaking system is working perfectly. That's "God Bless America" we hear, and "Flanders Field" and "Taps," echoing and reechoing across the heart of the village. And red roses are being placed on the grave's green covering, and shots are being fired in ceremonial salute.
We're not missing a thing; it's really happening.
They remember history Let others forget the past, if they will; let them forget history, but not in this place.
They do not pander here to the currently popular notion that a nation is only worth the handout it can give you; they hold to the theory that devotion to country is an all-pervasive thing akin to love. That is the gratifying reality that prevails in today's sight and sound.
Somehow, the old values do survive, and if here in Camillus, perhaps in other communities across the land.
I see this town as a microcosm of Heartland, U.S.A.
And so, when called upon to say a few words, I speak of the solider who died in battle, and I ask:
"Did he die for an abstract cause, a silken flag, a faceless government, a catchy slogan?"
But I know the answer is here, and I need not have articulated it: "Friends, he died for you and me."
More importantly, however, I know that this village and its people and the happenings here today give comforting evidence that what our country stands for will ever withstand the assaults of the skeptics, the doubters, the challengers and the non-believers.
We can be assured that though many elsewhere prefer to forget the battlefield sacrifice as no longer ideologically fashionable, at least here they understand and comply wholeheartedly when they are importuned, in reference to the dead warrior.
"Let him be forgotten no more."
