Today I am posting something a bit different. This part of the book I am writing about two babies born on the same day at the same hospital and how their lives keep intersecting. The book is mostly about the one from The Point. At this point in the story he is almost five. It is written as he sees things in 1955. For those who remember those parades  I hope I capture the way it was. I would be happy to take any suggestions.

Kevin

Gerry was excited he would be going to the Memorial Day Parade with his Poppa. They would be going to the VFW Post and the church and Coffey Park with the big soldier statue. The VFW Post would march to the statue of the soldier in the park. When they got there they would all shoot guns. Gerry didn’t quite remember last year’s parade but he knew that he had liked it. All the kids were talking about trying to get the back of one of the bullets that come out of the guns. Gerry didn’t even know what they were but he wanted one.

When they got to the park a lot of men got up and talked about the war. He didn’t really understand what war was about but it sounded like fun. They were talking about big ships and airplanes and tanks. He hoped that he could go to a war some day. He didn’t want the people who ran them to run out of wars before he was old enough.

He had stopped hearing the speakers and was day dreaming about flying a big plane and knocking down the bad planes when he saw the guys with the guns get ready. They lifted those guns and BANG, BANG, BANG. They all shot three times. Gerry saw where one of the bullets landed in the grass and ran to it before anyone else saw it. When picked up the bullet it burned his hand, no one told him that they were hot and burned. But he had it and he wasn’t going to lose it for a little burn. Gerry ran back to his Poppa. He was proud that he got one of the bullets and a lot of bigger kids didn’t get any.

“Poppa, Poppa look I got a bullet. Maybe someday I can go to a war. Will you go with me?”

Poppa sat on a bench and said, “Gerry, I hope you never have to go to war. I hope there is never another war.”

Gerry thought; why doesn’t Poppa want me to have a war. All the men had a war. I want to have one too.

He forgot about being angry with his Poppa for not wanting him to play war when he heard music. Soon everyone was singing. Gerry liked singing. They sang the Anthem and God Bless America and a lot of other songs. Gerry didn’t know all the words but he knew some and when it was time to sing them he sang loud. When he didn’t know the words he just moved his mouth and pretended to sing. They sang a song about some guy named Johnny marching home. It was a good song Gerry was having fun when he heard his Poppa make a noise. He looked up and Poppa was crying. Poppa didn’t cry he was old, older even then Momma and Daddy.

He tugged on Poppa’s coat till Poppa looked down, “Poppa why are you crying?”

Poppa said, “My Johnny didn’t march home.”

Gerry didn’t know what he meant but he knew war made Poppa cry. If war could make Poppa cry then it was bad. He loved his Poppa and anything that made his Poppa cry was the baddest. He decided when he grew up and became a cop he would arrest anyone who made a war.

It would be years before he understood what war was and why Poppa cried. His Uncle, his Momma’s brother, Nanny and Poppa’s son Sgt. John Peterson was killed in the Battle of the Bulge. He would die on Christmas Day, Nanny’s birthday.

He didn’t understand all that in 1955 but that moment was burned into his four year old mind. For the rest of his life those five words of his Poppa. “My Johnny didn’t march home” were the saddest words he ever heard.

It was the spring of 1955 and Sean was a happy four year old. He was with his Grandfather, his Papa. Sean loved to walk with his Papa and today was even more special. It was Memorial Day and Papa was taking him to the parade. All the men from the neighborhood were marching in uniforms. Sean loved the colors and the music. He marched along with his Papa right in with the men. Everybody came over to shake Papa’s hand. Papa even had a star he wore like a sheriff and Papa’s star was gold. Sean thought that must mean my Papa is even more important than the Sheriffs on TV.
At the statue in the park the parade stopped and some guys talked for a long time. Sean didn’t really like that part. One of the men said that the parade was because of the war. Sean didn’t know what the war was but it must be pretty good if they have parades. Then they played some music Papa said was it was Taps but Sean only heard a horn he didn’t hear any Taps. When the men came out with guns and shot into the air Sean thought it was really loud. Then they stopped shooting and all the kids ran to get the spent casings from the rifles. Sean picked one up but dropped it because it was too hot. An older kid grabbed it and ran away.
As they left the park heading for the VFW the band played “When Johnny Comes marching Home.” Sean liked that one. When he looked up at Papa to tell him he saw tears. Papa was crying.
“Papa why are you crying?”
Sean thought, Papa never cries. He’s a big guy.
Papa looked down and said, “My Johnny didn’t come marching home.”
Sean didn’t know what Papa meant but he decided war must be bad. Anything that could make his Papa cry was bad.
In the years to come Sean would learn that his uncle Sgt. John Peterson, Papa’s son was killed in the Battle of the Bulge. Uncle Johnny died on his mother’s birthday, Christmas Day 1944.