In the twilight of the evening as you pass those many veteran’s markers….

This is the Memorial Day Address by Jim Poe at Goshen Cemetery on May 25, 2009

I hate to burst the bubble on the boys’,  However I don’t think the four and the first three for sure decided on a military career out of patriotism. They chose it basically for free college.  The patriotism came starting with the first gulf war and was hammered home with 9-11.  Number #4 Blake however was always a warrior. I don’t think he ever wore anything but camo BDU’s at Halloween and he always had a fort instead of a tree house. But you see that between Academy, ROTC, and National Guard scholarships, Judy and I never wrote a tuition check. And, everyone was debt free at graduation. We feel they have probably paid their dues several times over with five total deployments so far to the gulf theater of war, plus tours in Korea along with Air Force and Army Commendation medals, Combat Action badges, and a Bronze Star Medal. The four at his time have jointly served a total of 59 years….and we’re still counting. I’m not sure how she has done it, but Judy has held her breath all 59 years.

It was September of 1970... Judy and I along with our two year old twin sons moved into a year old… new house on Shiloh Road. The house had been built the year before and we were the first and as it has turned out the only owners.  I hired Jerry Turner from Gaynor Road to bush hog the two acres that hadn’t been mowed in several years. 

We learned the three constants of Goshen Township that day and over the next several months. First with that initial mowing, we learned that it’s a shame that there is no market for wild onions. During that late winter and early spring we understood why the early settlers from Pleasant Plain nick named this area Plumb Socks. You see when one steps off of the hard road one sinks in the mud … Plumb past their Socks. But the main thing we learned was that Goshen had for many decades…. a Memorial Day service in this cemetery. A tradition that was started soon after the Civil War. 

It’s probably been twenty years since I stood out there and listened to the late Gordon “Cap” Glancy standing in this exact spot telling of when in his youth being at this same ceremony, listening to what remained of the area’s Civil War soldiers reminisce about their war years.

Over the past four decades this old cemetery has become sort of a friend to me.  I guess my love and interest in Goshen history just sort of led me to these hallowed acres.  I have learned that laid to rest in this small piece of Goshen real estate is the great baseball player Sam Leever... the Goshen Schoolmaster. He pitched in the first world series for the Pittsburgh Pirates… 1903. His first win was against Cy Young.. 1-0. 54 feet 6 inches from Sam is Larry Goetz... long time National League umpire who was pictured on the cover of The Saturday Evening Post… “The 6th Inning”… by Norman Rockwell. Same area is Frank Hogget long time educator of Goshen Schools. He along with cemetery resident Dwight Richie, a store owner, both won the prestigious Grand America Trap Shoot. 

Heading over in that direction we pass the grave of another educator, the superintendent/headmaster of the old Goshen Seminary… which was on the hill above Kroger’s, where Clara Heywood lives. His name, Sanford Turnipseed.  Not far from Sanford is the monument of Chloe Chaney… died in 1865. We don’t know much about Chloe except sometimes when the cemetery is empty a single rose shows up at the foot of her stone. Down over the hill from Ms Chaney is the late John Glancy… a somewhat eccentric, local artist and musician. It is said that one is not a true Goshenite until one owns a John Glancy painting. I finally bought my first three years ago.

Heading up the hill to the right is a line of graves belonging  to the Nichols’ Family, nine children ranging in ages from 6 years to just several days old. We have no Idea of those circumstances.  On top of that hill lies Dr. Lyman one time owner of our Historical Society Museum, The Anchorage. Down just a little from Dr. Lyman is Tubel Early relative of the Confederate General Jubel Early... next to Tubel is his freed Slave. We have no idea what his name was… you see decades ago vandals chipped all of the information off of his stone.

As interesting or boring as this little bit of Goshen history may be... we’re not here today to honor those folks. As we travel these sacred grounds one will notice hundreds of small metal markers standing guard at many of the graves. These represent our veterans starting with the Revolution. I’m embarrassed to say that I can’t give much information about these heroes.  However, I do have some words from a renowned American warrior that I think may help us to see what sort of person lies beneath these markers.

One cannot have sent two sons from the banks of the O’Bannion Creek here in Goshen to the banks of the Hudson River to the United States Military Academy at West Point without having had embedded in their mind… General Douglas MacArthur’s address in May of 1962… shortly before his death… to his beloved Corps of Cadets about their motto - DUTY, HONOR, COUNTRY. In a 35 minute speech without notes the General told the future military leaders about the American fighting man.

And what sort of soldiers are those you are to lead? Are they reliable? Are they brave? Are they capable of victory?

Their story is known to all of you. It is the story of the American man at arms. My estimate of him was formed on the battlefields many, many years ago, and has never changed. I regarded him then, as I regard him now, as one of the world's noblest figures; not only as one of the finest military characters, but also as one of the most stainless.

His name and fame are the birthright of every American citizen. In his youth and strength, his love and loyalty, he gave all that mortality can give. He needs no eulogy from me, or from any other man. But when I think of his patience under adversity, of his courage under fire, and of his modesty in victory, I am filled with an emotion of admiration I cannot put into words.

In twenty campaigns, on a hundred battlefields, around a thousand campfires, I have witnessed that enduring fortitude, that patriotic self-abnegation, and that invincible determination which have carved his statue in the hearts of his people.

In memory's eye I could see those staggering columns of the First World War, bending under soggy packs on many a weary march, from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn, slogging ankle deep through mire of shell-pocked roads; to form grimly for the attack, blue-lipped, covered with sludge and mud, chilled by the wind and rain, driving home to their objective, and for many, to the judgment seat of God.

I do not know the dignity of their birth, but I do know the glory of their death. They died unquestioning, uncomplaining, with faith in their hearts, and on their lips the hope that we would go on to victory. Always their blood, and sweat, and tears, as they saw the way and the light.

And twenty years after In World War II, on the other side of the globe, against the filth of dirty foxholes, the stench of ghostly trenches, the slime of dripping dugouts, those boiling suns of the relentless heat, those torrential rains of devastating storms, the loneliness and utter desolation of jungle trails, the bitterness of long separation of those they loved and cherished, the deadly pestilence of tropic disease, the horror of stricken areas of war.

 

Toward the end of his address the old solider tempers his comments to the cadets with….

This does not mean that you are warmongers. On the contrary, the soldier above all other people prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war. But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Plato, that wisest of all philosophers: "Only the dead have seen the end of war.

Back to Memorial Day 2009…

I would challenge all of you… sometime in the next year to travel this old cemetery and enjoy it’s beauty and history… read the stones... but in the cool of the evening while walking… listen… listen… you may hear the sound of a baseball striking leather… a softly called strike… educators lecturing their students… the cry of a heart broken parent… the hushed violin music of a local artist… a former slave singing…… Free at last… free at last… praise God almighty… I’m free at last.

Awwww… but in the twilight of the evening as you pass those many veteran’s markers…. listen more intently and you’ll hear whispering.

These are the special ones… the defenders of the Flag... the protectors of our freedom… Lest we ever… ever forget those we honor here today.

Judy, our four warriors and I wish you a wonderful Memorial Day. God Bless our troops, and God Bless America.