Memorial Day 2009....

What do fried chicken, hot weather, racing and a radio have in common? They were all a major part of the celebration of Memorial Days for one family on a remote farm in Southern Illinois in the 1950's. Memorial Day was a very special day for the adults to remember and honor the veterans who only a few short years before had given their lives to protect the freedom of others. It was an easy assignment for the folks who had lived through World War II. Everyone had a relative, neighbor or friend who had either died or was seriously wounded in the war. Even I had not forgotten the worried look on my dad's face as he listened to the news every night while his two brothers and oldest son were in combat. Noone treasured their freedom more than the folks who lived through the great depression and the wars. Now they were enjoying a peaceful and productive period....the fruits of their labor.

As a child, Memorial Day represented for me a holiday filled with relaxation, good food and fun. It was one of the few days my father rested from his sun up to sun down work. Mother would spend the morning preparing a meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, creamed peas, salad and a tasty dessert. Everything tasted better then, because the young chicken had been running around the farm the day before and vegetables were either freshly frozen, canned or picked from our huge garden.

To me, it also meant that the official days of summer would soon be here. No more school until September. Memorial Day would be followed by bike riding, blackberry picking, swimming at the river and lying around under a shade tree reading books and imagining all of the things I would accomplish in life. If I was reading Tom Sawyer, I was going to cruise down a river someday. If I was reading the Bobbsey Twins, I knew that I would have twins when I got married. I read everything I could about the adventures of others and imagined myself experiencing everything I read. It also meant I could go barefoot. I loved the feel of the earth warming under my feet, and the grass between my toes. Long hot seemingly never ending summer days were ahead with Hank Williams singing on the radio while my brother listened to the Grand Ole Opry. He had photos of Hank Williams on his wall. Soon I would crawl into bed at night and listen to the tractor motor going back and forth across the field as my dad worked even into the night during planting and harvesting seasons. Memorial Day was as much about the beginning of summer for kids as it was about the holiday.

Every Memorial Day weekend, my dad would tune in the Indy 500 on our radio. We would all gather around and listen to the excitement of the race and dream of someday being there to see all the action. Imagine my excitement when my daughter many years later in 1998 competed against women from all over the world at the Indy track for a spot in the ALMS WGGT series. She would race the next two years in that series at tracks all over the United States, but there was never anything quite as special as being at Indy. As I walked through their museum, I remembered the names of drivers of the past. I was in awe looking at Billy Vukovich's car and remembering the day he was killed following three years of winning the race. We were all very sad that day. Another hero was gone.

The Indy 500 is still a part of my celebration. There will be no Hank Williams on the radio, but I do have a few of his songs on my i-pod. I will have good food, but not quite as tasty as freshly grown. Summer is just around the corner. Our country is at war again and on the edge of a depression. However, I am thankful for the veterans who have fought and are fighting for our freedom, and I am thankful for the blessing of family and friends much like my parents were in the 1950's. Time marches forward but many things stay with us forever...like special memories and traditions. Memorial Day, 2009.