As I sit writing this essay on Memorial Day, I think about the old metaphor of life as a parade that passes by and, too quickly, fades from view. I recall a film short, now flickery and grainy with age, called "The Passing Parade," in which a commentator, in appropriately stentorian tones, does voiceover eulogies of deceased film stars as scenes from their movies appear on the screen. At the end, a photo of the recently deceased Jean Harlow with her head backlighted, making her look like an angel, fills the screen, and the narrator proclaims, "So long, Jean!" in breezy but heartfelt farewell to this luminous icon too early gone to the grave.
Through the power of memory, we renew the bonds of love that, as Thorton Wilder wrote, are the only true "bridge" between the living and the dead.
Every time I see this film, I speculate about the feelings with which some audience members of the 1930s must have responded to this cinematic tribute — one that, to contemporary movie audiences with no emotional attachment to the subject, might seem bizarre or perhaps even laughable. I also wonder if the generations that follow ours will see any of our televised memorials to celebrities of this time and find them equally quaint or risible. Ultimately, though, what do such questions matter?
Celebrity deaths, of course, are not, nor should they be, the focus of Memorial Day remembrances. Photographic images of infantry marching off to World War I — the war that was supposed to end all wars — remind us that the notion of a "passing parade" has both literal and metaphorical meaning when applied to soldiers' activities and, especially, to their deaths. Memorial Day was originally established to honor the soldiers who died in the Civil War. Later, all deceased members of the armed services of the United States came to be included in this commemoration.
This year, we are for the first time, collectively and formally, honoring veterans of the Second World War through the dedication of the World War II Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. Surely, this is an impressive but too little and too late tribute to the more than 400,000 American men and women who gave their lives in this war, a war that touches me personally because it was fought by my parents' generation and because I have seen firsthand the lifelong emotional scars borne by those who fought as well as those who waited at home. As I watch television coverage of the dedication, I reflect on my father's participation in the war, first as a Navy ensign and later as a lieutenant, junior grade.
I particularly recall the day my father told me how, in the spring of 1945, he and other newly commissioned officers were called into a meeting presided over by a Navy captain who announced plans for a land invasion of Japan. The captain informed my father and his unit that they would be among the first groups to land on Japanese shores, with the initial invasion expected to yield a 100 percent casualty rate for American troops. Even if my father had not described the emotional and physical reactions of himself and these other young men as they heard this news, it would not be difficult to imagine their responses.
It is also obvious that their lives were spared because of the decision, made only a short time later, to forego a land invasion and drop the atom bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. As much as I am saddened by the deaths of the innocent Japanese who were killed in the resulting conflagration, I cannot wish that my father and his comrades had been killed instead, nor do I doubt their commitment to the cause of protecting the freedom of their country because they did not have to die to demonstrate that commitment.
The concept of a passing parade becomes more grimly appropriate when we consider the procession of wars in the latter half of the 20th Century. Then there is the current conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan, which, like all wars, reminds us of the youth and vulnerability of many members of our armed forces and the enormous sacrifices that we often ask of them. War also should remind us that, in the cosmic scheme of things, right and wrong, good and bad, are more complex notions than the finite human mind can grasp. Any war, no matter how necessary or just it might seem, serves the self-interests of one group at the expense of those of another.
While the main purpose of Memorial Day is to honor members of the military who have given their lives in service to their country, it is also true that "Decoration Day," as my grandmother always called it, has long been a time to honor all of our loved ones who have passed away. I remember annual trips to the cemetery during my childhood to leave flowers at gravesites and the telling of stories about those whose graves we visited.
The ability to use memory, to remember, is fundamental to our ability to learn, to create, to construct an identity and to love. Through the power of memory, we give meaning to our lives and the lives of those who have gone before us, and we renew the bonds of love that, as Thornton Wilder wrote, are the only true "bridge" between the living and
the dead.
