On the Crest of Summer

              "We stood on the crest of summer, beneath an oak that blossomed green
                        Feeling as I did in April, not really knowing what it means
               But it must be then that you stand beside me now to make me feel this way
                         Just as I did in April, but it's a morning in May"


Those lyrics from the song Pieces of April by Three Dog Night rang through my head on the bus ride home Friday night.  On this particular day, which began at an ungodly hour on a morning in May, I was tired, my feet ached from walking all day, the kids were not even the littlest bit interested in slowing down.  The day had been a success.  Our kids had as much fun in DC as they ever had at Hershey Park.  It was a good day.

So why the song? Here's why.

The bus dropped us off at our destination which was crowded with tour buses from everywhere imaginable.  It was morning and Arlington National Cemetery was busy.  The sun was shining and I was as anxious as the kids to experience the history of that special place.  We ventured to one of the least visited sections, Section 27, the area where the remains of African American War Veterans from the Civil War rest.  To get there we passed a funeral full of the pomp and circumstance known to all, the flag draped coffin, the Marines ready to fire the report (21 gun salute) and the lone bugler.  The kids were absolutely silent.  We proceeded to other areas, famous and not so famous, and again and again saw funeral processions.  As we walked up the hill to the grave site of President Kennedy we were passed by a caisson pulled by 6 horses.  We witnessed the absolute precision and grandeur of the changing of the guards at the Tomb of the Unknowns. Following  immediately after there was another caisson, pulled by white horses this time, waiting to proceed while the Navy band played a tribute for the sailor just being laid to rest just a bit up the hill. 

Taps sounded and I cried.  Even the most squirrelly of boys stood and were silent.  It was the 7th time we heard the report that morning.  How many more funerals there were that day I have no idea (we were told that it is usually around 27 each day).  I just know that it was overwhelming and sad.  One student asked if I was ok, and yes, I was, just touched by the power of the day and feeling for all the family members who were there to say goodbye.  I was thinking of my family and relatives who, through the grace of God, made it home safely from their wars.  I know some of the tears are for knowing that we will continue to have to have more funerals for more men and women in the near future.

That being said, it was still quite amazing to walk the grounds and marvel at the sheer number of people who are buried there.  The over 600 acres is beautiful and serene. The history of our nation is represented from young to old, from all backgrounds and religions, every branch of the service, privates to presidents.  Until you see row after row after row of headstones you never understand how many of us are willing to give everything for our country.  I dont believe the students get it, I know I would not have when I was their age.  But I do now.

My morning in May stretched into an afternoon of smiles and sharing and yes, it was a  long day.  It was a day where I shared the pride in our country with young people who experienced history in the making 7 times and will never forget it. Where a young girl told me it was the first time she had been out of Pennsylvania, where a boy took every explanation of what we were seeing to heart and who accepted every challenge we gave, where even the cockiest of 14 year olds stood silent and reverent as the bugle called. 

This is the crest of summer, this was my morning in May.