When Arthur asked me to write a guest post for his blog I started thinking about what I like about his blog and the kinds of posts that I really enjoy here that I don’t find elsewhere too. I’ve really been enjoying his posts about the battlefield of Shiloh so I decided to write about one of the historic places I’ve been – The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.In the summer of 1988 I was 13, my Dad was off work receiving treatment for cancer and my sisters were 3, 1 1/2 and about 5 months old. In between the Chemotherapy and the Radiation treatments my Dad had short break, he couldn’t go back to work yet so he talked to the doctors and they gave him the go-ahead to take a little family vacation. We lived in Ohio at the time and my step-grandparents lived in Georgia so we drove down to visit them. On the way we stopped in Virginia and spent a few days with some friends my parents had known for almost ten years and visited some of the great places in Washington DC.

I come from a patriotic family, my father served in the Air Force at the tail end of the Vietnam War. He didn’t have to go to Vietnam and I’m thankful, but he did serve his country as a member of the military for six years. I have always loved history and when I found out we were going to Washington DC I was more than happy to make the trip!

We enjoyed parts of the Smithsonian and visited the monuments and saw the Capitol but the place I have never forgotten was Arlington National Cemetery and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

The rows of white crosses spread across a field of green grass are a visual reminder of just how many men and women have died serving our country, protecting our freedoms. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and the respect and reverence commanded by the site and the soldiers keeping watch there are unforgettable.

While we were at the tomb I watched the changing of the guard and I thought about the mother’s who wondered if their missing son was entombed there or if he might possibly still be alive somewhere. I know those are deep thoughts for a 13 year-old, but at that time in my life I was having a lot of deep thoughts – we’d had a rough year as a family – almost losing one of my sisters, finding out how sick my Daddy really was and the stress of watching him go through the treatments. The reality of death was all around me personally and seeing the reverence and intensity of the guards at the tomb along with the rows and rows of white crosses resonated with me and is something I’ll never forget.

The sacrifices made by the men and women who have found their final resting place at Arlington National Cemetery are something I never want to forget. It is easy to complain about the government and gas prices while forgetting about the men and women who died so that we could complain out loud without worrying about our lives and the safety of our families. It is easy to lose touch with our history, but I think it is something that we should hold on to and stay familiar with. History has a lot to teach us and to remind us of, if we’ll just take the time to listen.

I’m Blessed.

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