Early Memorial Day morning, I woke up to the unmistaken sound of a high school marching band.  The numerous drums could be heard beating a celebratory rhythm and the uniform sound of percussion instruments whistled proud not to be outdone.  It was the sound of the local schools' marching bands practicing for some event. 

Like a kid on Christmas morning, I sprang out of bed to Google search our town's website anticipating a Memorial Day Parade.  It would start in 50 minutes.  My wife and 2 year old son were just starting to wake.  We all agreed to move fast so we could set up our folding chairs on the sidewalk of the parade's route.  We have only lived in Prior Lake, Minnesota for 3 years and we are still discovering the small town's events that are becoming extinct in many American towns. 

As my wife prepared herself and our son, I packed a light breakfast consisting of fruit and freshly baked zucchini bread.  We headed toward the town's main street where the parade would begin at the local VFW.  Main Street is typical of most towns' "main street" with a corner bar, a flower shop and other locally owned establishments.  Before we could reach Main Street, we were surprised by the number of people that had stationed themselves at the parade's ending point.  We decided to park here as this would be where the final ceremony would take place. 

Not long after we unfolded our chairs and started eating zucchini bread, our son excitedly pointed out the police car escorting the parade.  The parade would be very simple.  It consisted of the military's Color Guard, local veterans, firefighters, politicians, Scout groups, and the marching bands.  Among the veterans were those notably from Vietnam, Korea, WWII, and the current War on Terrorism.  I looked closely at their faces wondering what stories each held in their hearts and minds. 

I also watched my son.  I watched him wave to the veterans driving the military vehicles.  I silently promised to them that we would teach him to acknowledge the sacrifices that were made for our freedom. 

Following the parade, everyone picked up their folding chairs and moved into the Veteran's Memorial Park which consists of a baseball field, a playground, and a picnic shelter.  The park had been prepared for the ceremony with a small stage, microphone, and a few folding chairs for special guests.  Those speaking included the Mayor, the VFW Post Commander, and Congressmen John Kline who is 25-year veteran of the Marine Corps.  All spoke about remembering the fallen and the importance of their sacrifice.  The Post Commander noted that many towns no longer hold a ceremony on Memorial Day and praised the city's continued tradition.  Congressmen Kline delivered a powerful speech quoting both President Kennedy and President Reagan emphasizing the price and importance of America's freedom, our leadership in the world, the historical nature of controversy in war, and the consequences of defeat outweighing the consequences of fighting. 

The ceremony would end with the names of veterans buried in local commentaries.  I anticipated many to leave during this part of the ceremony.  However, only a handful of people quietly dismissed themselves as most sat in silence remembering, praying, and honoring.  As I panned the crowd, I wondered what everyone's connection was to this day.  I spotted a t-shirt with a photo of a soldier and the words "local hero" printed above.  It was obvious she was here to pay honor to a loved one lost in the Middle East. 

I have to add one other observation before I end this entry.  During the ceremony, I was amazed by the behavior of the young people.  Both the junior high and high school band members sat quietly on the grass through all speeches and the reading of the local buried soldiers. As a husband of a 7th grade school teacher, I'm proud of the respect displayed. 

I'm very happy to have had this experience.  In a time when many things are taken for granted and traditions are fading, this town's tradition continues and sends and important message that 'freedom is not free'.  Something that is recited time and time again but not always heard.