Hallowed Ground

I have been to Arlington National Cemetery in Washington D.C. twice in my lifetime. Those of you who have had the opportunity to visit Arlington are likely familiar with the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The tomb contains the remains of soldiers who served and were killed in the line of duty in this nation's wars from World War I through the Korean Conflict, and who were not identified after losing their lives in the service of our country. There was a Vietnam soldier there, too, but his remains were identified in 1988 and immediately returned to family in Missouri.

Because these soldiers could not be identified, they could not be laid to rest in whatever places they called home by the people who knew their names and called them son, father, husband, brother, sweetheart, or friend. Instead, these soldiers were laid to rest, unknown, and given the permanent honor now bestowed on them in Arlington. The tomb is guarded twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year, and has not been left unguarded for even one moment since 1930, even when Hurricane Isabel hit Washington D.C. in 2003 and tropical winds and rain overturned cars and downed trees and flooded the nation's capital. The guards were ordered to take shelter while the storm passed for their own personal safety, but refused. These guards are proud and precise, and every step they take is done in tribute to the soldiers. They are on guard this very minute.

Recently I learned that twenty three soldiers from five different wars are laid to rest at Pine Grove Cemetery, including two from the Civil War who can no longer be identified. Pine Grove Cemetery is barely larger than a football field, almost hidden along the hill and curve where Paulson and Wise roads come together. In many ways the Pine Grove Cemetery could not be more different than Arlington, but in many ways the two cemeteries could not be more the same. Both are hallowed ground.

E Pluribus Unum: out of many, one. Every place touches every other place. The ground at Pine Grove Cemetery is part of the same fabric of land, over hill and through valley, over mountains and across rivers and oceans, as the land our soldiers march on and serve on and fight on, and where they sometimes fall. Our ground here also touches Arlington National Cemetery, where guards are always on duty, giving honor to fallen soldiers.

The wars in this country are not really wars that happen far away from home. Battles that happened in Iwo Jima, or the Mekong River Delta, or the trenches of Marne, or at Gettysburg or Bull Run, or in Afghanistan or Baghdad, have been and continue to be fought by local people: the best, and brightest, and bravest that our local communities can contribute to the great causes of this country. And even when the battles are fought in some distant land, back home the families who miss and love these soldiers wake each day to their own battle: they combat fears and worries with hopes, and prayers.

Just this week I learned Jake Johnson, a Gobles graduate, a smart and friendly young man I had the pleasure to teach and watch grow from adolescent to adult, landed in Iraq to begin his second tour with the United States Marines. Back home in Gobles his family and fiancée feel the swell of pride and anxiety every day he's away. Jake patrols Iraq but protects Gobles. It's what soldiers understand, and it's what keeps them going. It's what soldiers who died in service gave their lives for, and why we must honor them all, at Arlington National Cemetery, and everywhere they are laid to rest.  

There's a cemetery right around the corner from you that is hallowed ground, where soldiers who once fought our wars now rest in peace. Your corner of land, where you mow the lawn and throw the baseball around and feed the birds, was defended by our soldiers many times in the last 200 years and is defended yet today. Around another corner a veteran who wore the uniform of soldier during wartime or peacetime lives and works and raises a family in our small town. Around still another corner a family misses a soldier right now who is off answering the great call of freedom somewhere in the world. Around another corner a guard paces back in forth in front of a marble tomb at Arlington. Listen closely and you'll hear his steady footsteps.

Note: This blog post is from a series originally published as personal essays written for the Van Buren County Advertiser from 2008-2014 by Corey Harbaugh under the title It's All Good. The It's All Good columns were written to feature and celebrate life in and around Gobles, Michigan.