In Washington, D.C. for a college graduation, I walked the National Mall a week before Memorial Day. The two-and-a-half mile property, stretching from the Potomac River on the west to the Capitol and Supreme Court on the east, contains the Lincoln, Washington, Martin Luther King and Jefferson memorials, and memorials for both world wars, the Korean War and Vietnam.

While in “Macbeth” Shakespeare opined that we humans strut and fret our hour upon the stage, the memorials are stark reminders of so many men and women who never got that chance. They served and died defending our freedoms.

At the World War II Memorial, a large group of veterans from Minneapolis-St. Paul reminisced and contemplated, many pushed in wheelchairs due to tired and aged legs. Their joined purpose 70-plus years ago was carved succinctly in the memorial flag base:

Americans came to liberate, not to conquer,
to restore freedom and to end tyranny.

The Korean War Memorial also was well attended by veterans, more of these men and women mobile and chatting amicably. Their legacy 65 years ago was noted on the memorial’s walkway:

Our nation honors her sons and daughters who answered
the call to defend a country they never knew and a people they never met.

It was, though, the Vietnam Memorial I had come to see. On its granite walls were the names of men and women my age. My draft number was 186, above the numbers drafted that year. Had it been a bit lower — 146 or below — Jeffrey L. Tolman could have been a name on the wall.

Before the trip I went to www.vvmh.org/Wall-of-Faceshttp://www.vvmh.org/Wall-of-Faces and got the names and locations of the Poulsbo and Kingston residents on the wall. Four names came back. The Vietnam Memorial was much quieter and solemn than the WW2 or Korean memorials. Wall panel after wall panel, line after line, of names of the dead will do that to a place.

At wall panel 20E, line 103 I said “Thanks for your service” and “Hello from home” to Marvin Hill.

I told Patrick Whitlock (wall panel 37E, line 29) I had lived in his hometown now for 37 years, that people there were doing well and still care about, and appreciate, the service he gave.

At wall panel 24E, line 37 I sent regards to Robin Olmstead from everyone in Poulsbo and let him know his sacrifices still mattered.

Kingston’s Richard Salazar was the last on my list to see. At 31, he was the oldest person I came to the Wall to pay my respects to and thank. “Thanks, sir, for your dedicated service to our nation.” I said. “Your home town is doing well. It even has its own high school now. The Buccaneers.”

Gone in body, they are. Certainly not forgotten by family and friends, or hometown folks traveling to D.C. for a graduation. Always to be in our thoughts on Memorial Day.

Perhaps President Lincoln accurately capsulated what these local men had done in his letter to Mrs. Bixby, who had lost five sons in the Civil War, noting that her sons had “laid so costly a sacrifice upon the alter of freedom.”

May we remember those not with us on this Memorial Day, say a simple thanks and remember the positive they brought to each of our lives.

Copyright Jeff Tolman 2015. All rights reserved.