Skip to main content

Another great letter to the editor

Here is another great letter from the Memorial Day issue of the Spfd paper. Don't know this person but she is quite a writer!

Dusk had barely settled before the first loud boom echoed across the shallow valley where I live, just a stone's throw from Wilson's Creek National Battlefield. Then, the barrage began. Fireworks season again.

As the trees darkened into stark silhouettes against an uneasy, overcast sky, the sounds of explosions surrounded my backyard. It wasn't too difficult to imagine myself back to the time on this very soil when artillery shells and bombs were meant to maim and kill fellow American citizens, warriors for both the North and the South.

Back then, the blast of gunpowder exploding in cylinders resulted in more than high-fives and dares to see who among a crew of foolhardy middle-school boys would hold onto the lit roman candle the longest before tossing it (hopefully) skyward.

How many women in that distant time listened, as I did now, to the sounds of battle ricocheting off the hills surrounding their once quiet homesteads?

I felt a sad kinship to this sisterhood, who surely wanted many of the same simple comforts women today strive for in our modern lifetimes: a secure place to raise our children, plentiful food, clean water, and most importantly, peace.

The complacent security we've known in brief restful spans as a young nation has once again slipped out of our grasp. Distant battlefields in foreign lands are remote no longer with the advent of live-action feeds from cell-phone cameras.

Somehow, the celebration inherent in lighting wicks on a bouquet of bottle rockets escapes me this year. Young men and women in uniform are risking their very heartbeats in a throat-parching desert far away from these green hills. They must awaken daily dreading an encounter with all too real eardrum-shattering artillery.

Wouldn't it be great if, instead of incinerating a $20 bill in the form of fireworks, we all put together care packages for our neighbors serving overseas instead? After all is said and done, they're the ones preserving the very freedoms we celebrate on Independence Day.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Moneymaker House on Harwood Avenue

I was so thrilled to read in last night's Lebanon Daily Record that the Laclede County Historical Society has now received title to the Moneymaker House on Harwood Avenue. I have always loved that house. As a little girl living in Old Town Lebanon on the corner of Wood & Apple Streets, and walking to school each day, I passed that house every day and always thought it was the most beautiful house in town. The large mature trees in the front yard were always so stately with their long curvy branches sweeping the ground and creating a canopy for the squirrels to have their own private playhouse during the spring and summer. In the fall, the leaves became a gorgeous array of colors gradually falling to the ground and making a carpet under the trees, eventually paving the way for the white snow which inevitably would come as winter would arrive. I loved the low branches sweeping the ground at the Moneymaker house so much that I asked Milan in the early years of our marriage to le...

All Keyed Up, Locked Out, and Alarmed - A Crazy Day in my Life

What a day!  So many catastrophes, all having to do with keys.  How weird is that? Got ready to go to work, running late as usual, and noticed at last minute I didn't have my car/house/shop keys.  Last time I saw them was when we opened up the shop on Sunday afternoon to let MJ and my granddaughters pick out some beauty, bath and body items. Fortunately I keep an extra car key and house key in my wallet.  Found the car key and drove to the store, but then realized I didn't have an extra key for the store.  Called Milan from my cell phone and he opened the door from the inside and gave me an extra key he had. Middle of afternoon, I needed to go to the bank.  Found my little car key in my purse, grabbed it and the small ring of Milan's keys so I could get back into the shop, walked about 2 steps to my car, unlocked the door, threw my purse in, got in and realized I had somehow lost the car key. Called Milan again from my cell phone hoping he had an ex...

LDR column published 05.09.12 - Jess Easley

Straight From The Hart By Joan Rowden Hart Jess  Easley , Lebanon Historian and StoryTeller I’ve been trying to trace a place called Railroad Pond from the early days of Lebanon.  Perhaps some of you “old-timers” will have more information, but I found a reference to it in Jess  Easley ’s recollections of Lebanon. Jess talked about skating on Railroad Pond when he was just a kid, and also working to cut ice on it during the cold winters that Lebanon experienced.  The grocery stores which had meat markets would hire people to cut ice from the pond to put in their ice house and store for the summer. Jess was one of Milan’s favorite customers when Milan started working at the barber shop with Fred Pitts in 1968, and he quickly became one of Milan’s mentors in collecting oral memories and memorabilia of Lebanon history. Jess was born in Lebanon in January of 1891, and died here on March 1, 1983 at the age of 92 , and had a good strong mind right up to the very end, so he...