The Freedman and the Soldier

We live far, far from any family, so on Memorial Day (Decoration Day where I hail from) Significant Other and I visit local cemeteries and pay our respects to the fallen. The gravestones tell tantalizing bits of stories, enough to whet one's curiosity but not satisfy it. In the oldest cemetery in Sharon, home to the graves of a number of American Revolution and civil war veterans, there stands a gravestone at the back of the property. It is the stone for a young man of twenty-one who drowned in 1861. And carved into the grave stone with names and dates is the word "freedman." Has to be a sad story there. In another Sharon cemetery, at the Civil War monument, there is a memorial to a woman who donned men's clothing and fought in the American Revolution and was wounded and finally discharged. So many stories. If only we could listen.

Each military grave, no matter how ancient, bore a new flag and a little potted geranium. Someone keeps track and someone still cares.

Aloha,

Grapeshot