Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Commemorating our Veterans: Reflections on the Day

Ninety years ago, President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the first commemoration of Armistice Day, to mark the anniversary of the cessation of hostilities in what had been called the War to End All Wars.

Ninety years later, the hope that the Great War (World War I) would truly be the War to End All Wars has gone unfulfilled. The last of our Great War veterans has passed into eternity, but our wars continue.

And so we continue to remember our veterans, both living and dead, as a number of us gathered to do this Veterans Day morning at Desert Memorial Park in Cathedral City. A number of elected officials, including Cathedral City Councilmembers Chuck Vasquez and I, Desert Hot Springs Mayor Yvonne Parks, and Palm Springs Councilmember Lee Weigel -who has two family members at rest at the cemetery- were present, along with members of the Cathedral City Police and Fire Departments, a detail from the Palm Springs High School Air Force Junior ROTC, and -most importantly- a number of veterans from all of our armed services.

The audience was not as large as in years past, and some expressed disappointment at the turnout, but what we lost in numbers, we gained in a kind of intimacy.

Instead of being a crowd, we were a group of discrete individuals. It was possible to identify the World War II veterans, the Korea veterans, the Vietnam veterans, the Gulf War veterans, and veterans of the current operations in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Moreover, in so relatively intimate a group as gathered this morning, one gains an enhanced sense of the meaning and importance of Veterans Day, for in the assemblage, not an individual could be found who was not a veteran, or a family member, friend, or co-worker of a veteran.

And in the end, that is, for me, a large part of what Veterans Day is about. I am the child, grandchild, and other relative of veterans. I am the neighbor of veterans, I am the co-worker of veterans. And those veterans are of every sort and condition. They descend from every tongue and nation; they are of every conceivable faith and confession; they are of every political persuasion; they are of every gender and sexual orientation; every one of them has defended our nation.

And as always, the challenge for our civil society is to make sure that those who have served are duly remembered for their service, that they are not forgotten when their service is done. In remembering our veterans, we must go beyond mere words to face a face a challenge no less important today than when President Abraham Lincoln identified it in his Second Inaugural Address: “to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan.”

In the intimate gathering this morning at Desert Memorial Park, Lincoln’s challenge to America gained a new measure of import as we continue to ask the men and women of our armed forces to be ready to go into harm’s way on our behalf.

-xxx-

Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, CA, where he serves as a member of the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

"I will Survive" meets "I've Noticed the Dead Were Hardly More than Boys:" Pride and Healing Field

Today I took part in two very different, but still community-affirming, events.

This morning, I had the honor to represent Cathedral City in the 23d annual Greater Palm Springs Pride Parade. Immediately after that, I participated in Cathedral City’s Healing Field commemoration.

Each event reflects a part of our American experience; we celebrated lives being lived with pride and lives lost in the service of the nation we call our own.

Pride represents a time for the Desert’s sizeable LGBTQ community to come together, reaffirming solidarity and staking a claim -as yet unfulfilled- to a seat at the front of the American bus.

Healing Field is a time for us to remember those who have fallen in the military operations in Iraq and in Afghanistan.

In a sense, both events are linked by a fundamental truth; it is suffering that brings people together.

Pride -whether in Palm Springs, Los Angeles, San Francisco, or New York- is about people standing up and saying “no more” to being treated as second class citizens.

The Healing Field is about coming together to find solidarity in the shared loss of friends, family, neighbors, and fellow Americans.

In the end, at Pride I think of Gloria Gaynor’s lyric “I will survive,” and I honor the perseverance of the LGBTQ community in its ongoing quest for an authentic place at the table in the American Commonwealth.

At the Healing Field, reading the names -ever more every year- of the fallen, I remember the words of Grantland Rice: “I’ve noticed that the dead were hardly more than boys [and now, girls, too],” and I offer the simple prayer: rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord, may light perpetual shine upon then, and may their souls and the souls of all the departed rest in peace. Amen.”

And at day's end, I remember the teaching of the sages: live isn't meant to be easy; it's meant to be life.

"Death plucks at my ear," wrote a Roman poet 2000 years ago, "and says: 'live, I am coming.'"