Remembering Memorial Days in Morris

I will always associate certain images and sounds with Memorial Day in Morris. Number one would be Eleanor Killoran - RIP - playing "It's a Grand Old Flag" on a barely-tuned acoustic piano at the old elementary auditorium. I can hear that in my mind as if it were yesterday. She was especially invigorated when her son Skip was part of the morning.
There was such a calm air as people streamed to our old school for the annual program. It was a lazy holiday weekend when people who were committed to the true meaning of the holiday put aside other diversions.
A feeling of camaraderie was in the air coupled with patriotism. Ken Beseman with his bold voice led the audience in song. The Gold Star VIPs rose to get their acknowledgment from the Girls Staters. Every year there was a featured speaker and these individuals varied in their "stage presence," but of course that didn't matter. Even the most fumbling, nervous or disorganized speakers enhanced the day, perhaps even more than the polished ones.
I remember when there was a bona fide parade for Memorial Day. The public school would round up enough musicians for a band. I know because I was there, trumpet (or french horn) in hand. Director John Woell himself would don a uniform.
Declining enrollment probably made it harder for a band to be assembled. Eventually a community band did the job. I'm not sure that's even practical anymore. It's a nice enhancement but not essential. What is essential is the spirit of the day.
The Memorial Day parade was eventually scaled back to an informal procession to the Vets Memorial at Summit Cemetery. I found it exhilarating walking alongside the flag carriers along East 7th Street.
Incidentally the grass needs mowing along East 7th now, which I noticed on Monday - Memorial Day 2010. A lot of the grass on the old school property needs mowing. And there's a sign where the playground equipment used to be, saying "keep out." That's depressing to see in the midst of a residential part of town. It suggests "blight."
What would happen if I went over there? Would a snarling Doberman lunge out at me? That big old school and the expansive empty property next to it are progressively becoming an embarrassment to Morris. Open it up as a park or dog running area? Fine.
Clear away the vestiges of the old school and let's get on with it. How sad to see the old auditorium where those wonderful Memorial Day programs took place, unused and decaying. This is where I saw the all-school musical "Oliver" in about 1970. Today the edifice seems almost haunted with the image it projects. What a horrible lack of foresight on the part of this community.
Update: I noticed on Wednesday at 4 p.m. that lawnmowers had made some rounds in the areas I'm describing. But the underlying issues remain.
Memorial Day for me will never be the same because Willie Martin is no longer with us. Willie was the epitome of the Greatest Generation (a term popularized by Tom Brokaw). Willie's priorities were well aligned. He knew what to take seriously in life and what not. He understood human failings and knew that a sense of humor could overcome so much discomfort or hurdles.
Every year the people involved in the Memorial Day observance gathered at a veterans club - only the American Legion is left - for socializing. Willie was a fixture there and he probably consumed alcohol-enhanced beverages at the same rate as most of the men - a dubious habit of the Greatest Generation whose members weren't immune from human failings.
I probably imbibed myself some of the years there. I attended because I had a Memorial Day role with the media. I remember in my first year as a corporate media person here, it was Glendon Rose - RIP - who made sure I knew about the post-ceremony socializing. He did so with the words "there's beer at the Legion." I was touched by that because I wasn't well acquainted with him at the time and it was so ingratiating.
Willie, Glendon and the gang were the real deal.
I'm sure some of them had a rough go adjusting to society's new hard line on alcohol consumption - specifically the prohibition on operating a motor vehicle with any discernible alcohol in your system. The Greatest Generation is probably getting to an age now where the alcohol-fueled levity of their old free time isn't practical anymore.
They're not missing anything. When I dine at Morris' Pizza Hut and have a beer or two with my pizza, I make sure to ride my bicycle there and back - no automobile. It's charming how I've been "carded" there even though I'm a long-of-tooth boomer. This is always done apologetically. It's just that these establishments face the kiss of death if they serve anyone inappropriately. I'm flattered.
Pizza Hut is located along the Columbia Avenue extension which didn't exist when I was a kid. Can you imagine no Columbia Avenue extension? The Subway Restaurant has been attracted there too. I have patronized Subway exactly once. They ask you too many questions about how you want your sandwich made. I'm not a professional chef. I'm hiring them to make a good sandwich for me.
I remember Joe Tetrault - RIP - giving me a heads-up about one of Willie Martin's quirks when Willie spoke at the outdoor/cemetery portion of Memorial Day. People would ring the perimeter of the Veterans Memorial amidst the gentle atmosphere of the day, while Willie, resplendent in uniform and next to his Auxiliary (female) counterpart for the ceremony, got ready to speak into a microphone.
Willie did it dutifully but he always mispronounced a word.
"There the ground is hallowed" was the line in question, but Willie would say "hollowed."
Joe claimed that Willie had been briefed about this more than once, but I don't recall Willie ever rectifying it. Maybe Willie said what he did deliberately in the spirit of a sort of mischievous sense of humor. What, Willie?
Whatever, we wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be at the mike for that recitation. And when the crowd dispersed, many of us headed to a place like the Legion where not only beer was flowing, the smoke filled the air as if from a chimney - cigarette smoke. Most certainly that part of the tradition has faded. I think legally it had to.
Culturally we have turned a big corner with that, although our leaders don't want everyone to quit smoking because government gleans a lot of tax dollars from the sale of cigarettes. The price has soared into the stratosphere. I quit when the price was $1.10 a pack.
Remember the days when you could walk up to someone and say "got a cigarette?" I think this custom is gone with the wind.
On Memorial Day I always grab the TV remote and change channels when those inevitable trumpet "taps" are played during newscasts. I totally appreciate the reverence being shown to fallen soldiers, but the trumpet is an archaic instrument that can grate on me with its sound.
You realize, don't you, that all brass instrument players have to empty "spit" from their instruments regularly. Maybe you'll view this music differently now.
The sophisticated electronic sound systems of today should make obsolete the musical instruments we all know and grew up with. One exception would be the guitar, which ironically isn't even taught in our public schools.
How would Eleanor Killoran handle an electronic keyboard? I think just fine.
But in my mind there's no substitute for the sound of Eleanor pounding out "It's a Grand Old Flag" at our old elementary school auditorium (once the high school auditorium, remember).
I should be so lucky to hear that sound when (or if) I arrive at the gates of heaven.
But please, no trumpets. And I plan on looking up Willie right away.
"Love ya!"
-Brian Williams - morris mn - Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com