Four Simple Notes

On Monday in Neptune Park the masses huddled with one accord in the declining light of another day.

Under a brilliant blue sky the sun’s last dazzling rays of the day refracted from the dappled gun-metal grey waters of the Atlantic. With this backdrop, and like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, four Marines from King’s Bay stood ramrod straight, holding side-by-side two enduring symbols of America: The Stars and Stripes Flag and the blood-red Marine banner.

The occasion was “Taps at Twilight,” an island tradition held every Memorial Day in remembrance and in recognition of all Veterans of military service, living and dead. Each branch of the military was recognized by the playing of its marching music and the standing recognition of the Veterans. The soul was stirred.

Spectators sat orderly in rows, the very old and the very young. All had come to celebrate a time of remembrance for the occasion. Soon the Marines marched forth, Posting the Colors under the fading shadow of the flagpole. A wreath of colorful flowers, not unlike the faces, heads and clothing of the spectators, preceded a bagpiper, followed by the precise marching of Marines down a yellow-marked corridor. The crowd was silent, absorbing the essence of the procession.

Our group of about 16 had arrived a couple hours earlier, setting up our picnic tables under the shade and shadow of a sprawling oak tree. An old-fashioned picnic was unfolding, itself a remembrance of days gone by when towns were smaller, life slower, and time available for such frivolity.

There was fried chicken, covered by a red and white checkered cloth ~~ casseroles and sandwiches, snacks and sweets. Honorable mention went to the pineapple, tomato, chicken salad and pimento cheese sandwiches…all, get this, with mayonnaise on “light bread!” It returned many, if not most, of us to school lunch buckets, memories of simpler, and perhaps more tasty times.

In a land teeming with the crosscurrents of individual freedoms, such an occasion is one of the few “connecting points” in our culture that unites each of us, irrespective of everything divisive. We were Americans today, celebrating together something that was bigger than our individual selves. For a few hours we laid aside our self-interest and enjoyed the collective spirit that connected us.

Meanwhile, the band played on, and with hands over hearts, or salutes, the National Anthem was sung. After a lengthy prayer, appropriate for a nation 233 years old, Brig. General Thomas S. Vandal from Ft. Stewart offered up his stirring remarks.

The sun set in the twilight’s last gleaming as the Marines Retired the Colors. The evening turned more somber. The student JROTC from Brunswick High School proceeded slowly down the corridor to the flagpole. The flag was lowered, folded and stored for the night. The tall flagpole stood naked as its golden dome pierced the graying sky. A mournful trumpet began to sound out the four simple notes of “Taps,” Lights Out, or Gone the Sun…the call that ends the soldier’s day. In the distance its fading echo descended gently upon the day’s declining moments.

As we had arrived, so we departed. Chairs folded, picnic tables closed, food (very little was left!) repackaged, good-byes said. Individuality had returned, yes, but not without a renewed sense of our collective Greater Purpose and our individual roles in it.

Four simple notes closed the day… four simple notes renew the morrow. Like death and resurrection, tomorrow’s bugle call is Reveille, also played with four simple notes to the accompaniment of a cannon’s retort. It is a rousing “get ‘em up” tune as the flag is again raised atop the naked flagpole … a resurrected America on the go.

So, on four simple notes a new day began, even as our old day ended. They both remind us of our unity in spite of our differences and the redolence of our national pledge… “…one nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all.”

If you were there, you know. If not, remember … “E Pluribus Unum,” y’all.

Bud Hearn
May 28, 2009