Memorial Day
When I think about Memorial Day, I think about Mr. and Mrs. Rainey. They were an elderly couple who went to my church when I was a kid. They were the last remaining charter members of the church which had been founded in 1920 or so.
They were always sweet and kind to me. He was a deacon, she was very involved with WMU. I never knew they'd had any children until I was a teenager.
My dad told me that they'd had one son. He died in Vietnam when he was in his early 20s. I don't know his name or any other details of his service.
My dad, who was never one to mince words about politics, said that LBJ had stolen their son from them.
I don't know what the Raineys' politics were. Because they were faithful members of a conservative Baptist church, they were probably true believers who thought Vietnam was justified in the fight against global godless Communist aggression. (As opposed to the point of view that the VietCong were nationalists fighting against French colonialism who approached the US after WWII to ask for help in their liberation, and we told them no, so they took help from Communist China instead.)
But even if that was what they believed, I can't imagine how painful it must have been to lose their only child to war.
How bitter it must have been for the Raineys to attend that church, which was always a youth oriented church with dozens of teenagers and young adults, especially in the early 70s, shortly after their son died.
They are dead now, and have been dead for more than a decade in the sweet reunion of the hereafter.
But on Memorial Day, those are the ones I remember- the people who are left.
They were always sweet and kind to me. He was a deacon, she was very involved with WMU. I never knew they'd had any children until I was a teenager.
My dad told me that they'd had one son. He died in Vietnam when he was in his early 20s. I don't know his name or any other details of his service.
My dad, who was never one to mince words about politics, said that LBJ had stolen their son from them.
I don't know what the Raineys' politics were. Because they were faithful members of a conservative Baptist church, they were probably true believers who thought Vietnam was justified in the fight against global godless Communist aggression. (As opposed to the point of view that the VietCong were nationalists fighting against French colonialism who approached the US after WWII to ask for help in their liberation, and we told them no, so they took help from Communist China instead.)
But even if that was what they believed, I can't imagine how painful it must have been to lose their only child to war.
How bitter it must have been for the Raineys to attend that church, which was always a youth oriented church with dozens of teenagers and young adults, especially in the early 70s, shortly after their son died.
They are dead now, and have been dead for more than a decade in the sweet reunion of the hereafter.
But on Memorial Day, those are the ones I remember- the people who are left.