Driving the George Washington Parkway from
Virginia into Washington, DC, you cannot miss the drama of Arlington National
Cemetery on your right. You look out onto row after row of white crosses as
they march in silent columns over the rolling hills of Virginia. Watered by
tears, drenched in blood, the graves of 400,000 veterans and their families are
silent reminders of the high cost of freedom. For the past ten years, thousands
of people have come to Arlington in December to participate in a ceremony known as the
Laying of the Wreaths.
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| Looking at the Washington Monument from a hill at Arlington National Cemetery. |
It all began in 1992 when Merrill
Worcester, owner of the Worcester Wreath Company in Maine, found himself with 5,000
pieces of excess stock. As a child, he’d been struck by the sad beauty of
Arlington National Cemetery. This 1,100-acre plot of land has been a sacred
spot since the 1850s when George Washington Parke Custis dedicated it to the
memory of his step-grandfather, George Washington. During the Civil War, federal
troops used the grounds as headquarters and burial grounds. By the third year
of the war, D.C. graveyards had run out of space, and so two hundred more acres
at Arlington were set aside for the dead. Shortly thereafter, the site was
turned into a national cemetery.
Worcester decided to donate his
wreaths, asking that they be placed on graves in one of the older (and less
visited) sections of the graveyard. Since then, this simple act has become an
annual tradition that occurs on the third Saturday each December at Arlington and
1,200 additional locations in all 50 U.S. states, at sea, and abroad. The
mission of National Wreaths Across America Day is to Remember, Honor and
Teach.
Yesterday, my husband and I joined a
group of friends to participate. The ground was freezing; the surface was slick
with ice and traces of snow. Traffic backed up for miles over the bridge, so we
opted to say goodbye to our Uber driver and walk the final mile or so. Fortunately, we were all appropriately bundled up. Once we
passed under the Arlington’s gateway, we made our way to sections of the
graveyard where trucks were parked, and volunteers unloaded unassuming brown
cardboard boxes. We took our places in line, using the time to gaze around at
the variety of monuments. One was copyrighted by Tiffany. Another was a single,
huge granite ball. A cannon stands sentinel amidst a group of headstones. An
angel blows a horn from one carved headstone.
Eventually we were each given one
wreath. Tradition demands that you say the name of the fallen as you set down
your wreath. Thus, we remembered the fallen by bringing them back to living
memory once more.
Do you have a family member interred at Arlington? Have you been to Arlington?
4 comments:
We have been. I have family members who were eligible to be buried there, but were buried close to home.
It's very sobering, isn't it? A place worth seeing as a reminder of all those who've made the ultimate sacrifice.
My father is buried in a National Cemetery on Long Island. I hope that they lay wreaths there too....
My uncle and his wife are buried in Arlington Cemetery. My father and mother are in Fort Snelling National Cemetery.
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