It's one thing I want to do before we pause for intermission and that's to mention that it is

Memorial Day this weekend, a day that we sort of lost when it became a weekend and maybe someday we will turn it back into a day again,

which it was for a century.

Decoration days came in after the bloody Civil War, both sides laying flowers on the graves of their war did.

One of those times when the country was even more divided than it is now,

but it was united on this one point.

This is our observation, observance of Memorial Day,

and it's a poem entitled,

They Were So Young.

Memorial Day and the old folks come and stand in the sun feeling sad and dumb. The boys in the ground, there are so many, they're 18, 19, maybe 20.

They just moved out of a boy's bedroom and went to war now they line a tomb

Old people come on Memorial Day

And people speak, but what's there to say?

The dead would trade it all for the chance

to find a girl and ask her to dance.

Tychondaroga, Hamburger Hill,

young men marching out to kill.

Manassus Shiloh, Chancellorsville,

they fell down and they lie there still.

World War I, they picked up their arms

and marched to Ibra in the Battle of the Barn.

Vimi Ridge, Askandala, the song.

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