McKenney, VA

Another mid winter day in the Southside of Virginia (circa 2009). Today, we stopped in the town of McKenney. We parked at the quik mart to get a whistle wetter before we forayed more into the countryside. We ran up on a cemetery outside of town along a road that ended .94 mile from our turn off the state road. The day was perfect: slight breeze, slight chatter from birds, a few blue slices of sky in between the clouds and fresh opossum and raccoon tracks in the pasty red soil. Not much doing in the sleepy winter slumber of the Southside. However, I realized a great deal WAS doing and a lot WAS done to this point. I scanned the cemetery and noted that a right good number of veterans are resting here. World War II, Korea, Vietnam, fathers and sons buried next to each other, marked with the distinct headstone of a soldier. Military moms and wives buried next to their husbands, sons and daughters. The service to America is prevalent on this rolling hillside in McKenney. Why is the call to duty represented so heavily in this town? Is it the influence of growing up within earshot of the test bombs at Fort Picket? Is it the opportunity to hear the training exercises become apart of the landscape during the heat of the summer months? Then, dawning upon me like the scent of fresh split firewood, I thought about McKenney as a springboard toward the light of something greater on the global scale. A surge toward honor and prosperity and sense of pride and mobilization toward a greater community service. Folks of all color and origin working as a unit. Finding pathways to make diversity the strength of the team. Putting faith into action, loving the betterment of humanity. Finding the fortitude of a leader. Finding ways to collect ideas that are different and combine them for the greater good. Having the courage to accept differences. And when the wars are fought and the fears conquered, the soldiers have returned to rest in McKenney. Dotting this gently sloping cemetery are the graves of bravery and fortitude. I was honored to spend time with the valiant and their loved ones on this winter morning. The birds chirped sweet songs over the tombstones. The soil glowed an extra bright hue of the famous Piedmont clay. The sun showed itself more intense on this spot. The surrounding pines had a sweeter scent. The quiet was quieter. I was able to reflect on myself and ask how I have made a difference thus far. This dead end road off the paved road could be a new beginning. Plain white headstones, tiny American flags unfurled and plastic flowers in pots made the history become present. The air is thick with unwavering patriotism. People who have pushed toward courage and proven themselves, find rest here. I was fortunate to have a small handful of time to spend in the graveyard that morning. My feet moistened through my boots by the graveyard grass.

Memorial Day 2020

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