I don’t know how they will get it done, but I’m sure there will be flags in the Revolutionary War cemetery in the middle of town. It’s directly across from the dam and it is beautiful especially in the autumn.

It is just a hundred or so yards from the river itself. Uphill, so it never floods, even when the rivers rush over their banks. The people who created that cemetery knew about the rivers and flooding. They picked a beautiful spot, but dry and safe for the bones and memories.

An old cemetery, dating back to the early 1700s. It contains traces of many generations of those who lived and died in this town, this valley. Folks who lived along the Blackstone and its many tributaries fished in its lakes and streams. They fought in our wars and are buried here — Revolutionary War soldiers, Civil War veterans as well as those who fought in all the American wars since.

Every Independence Day, Memorial Day, and Veteran’s Day, the cemetery blooms with bouquets and flags. The schools bring the children here, so they will remember too and traditions will be maintained. They bring bouquets of wildflowers or from the back garden. Lilacs and lilies, scarlet poppies … and always a miniature American flag. Even if there’s no special holiday, the cemetery always shows signs of caring, remembering.

Maybe it’s easier to remember here, with such a small population. Is that it? Or it’s just part of the air, the character, the history. Remembering is what we do in the Valley.

The cemetery is one of my favorite places. We’re newcomers after all, only living here 17 years. Our ancestors — Garry’s and mine — come from Sligo, Antigua, Minsk, Bialystok … from tiny villages in Ireland and the West Indies and the shtetls of Eastern Europe.

Valley people have been here longer. Many came from French Canada in the late 19th century to work in the mills. Another large group formed the dominant Dutch population. They built churches, businesses and factories, dairy and truck farms, shops, horse farms, and sawmills. Their names are prominent wherever the rivers run.

Newcomers, like us, aren’t quite as rare these days, and anyway, we’ve lived here 18 years, so we are no longer outsiders. Nonetheless, we have no ancestors in this cemetery.

The valley is the only place I’ve lived where the majority of families have lived in this town or in nearby villages for three, four, five generations.

“We’ve always lived in the Valley,” they say, meaning as long as anyone can remember. If gently prodded, they may recall at some point, long ago, they came from somewhere else … but some can’t remember when or if it’s true.

I point out they must have come from somewhere because unless they are Native American, they came to this place, even if a long time since. They get misty-eyed trying to remember old family stories handed down when they were young. Hard to remember, they tell you. “You know, that was 75 years ago … a long time.”

We nod. It was a long time ago. A year has passed. Little flags and flowers bloom in the cemetery. It’s a nice thing they do. Remembering.

But this is not like any other year. I wonder who remembers the holiday.

Categories: #American-history, #Photography, Blackstone Valley, celebration, Marilyn Armstrong

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8 replies

  1. I don’t know who else will remember today, but I will. I have. My flag is flying, proudly and i’m grateful that it’s sunny out there for a change. All my loved ones are buried far enough away that going to visit and honor them at their grave sites is not easy. I hope that where ever they are, they know I am thinking about them. Especially hubby today. He sleeps in the Veteran’s Cemetery in Lehi, Utah. A two hour plus drive in traffic that I don’t want to face today. I think of him especially and the service he gave in Viet Nam and what scars he brought back with him (both visible and invisible); and the thing that finally killed him as a parting gift from those foreign shores. It’s a day for reflection for some of us. Whether steeped in history as in your area, or filled with poignant nostalgia in mine. Have a great Memorial Day Marilyn.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lovely little spot. You mentioned Sligo as a place of one of your ancestors. My Great Grandmother on my mother’s side came from Sligo, and my daughter and I spent a week there one summer. It was a charming little town.


    • Did you visit the castle on the loch? We were there for a few days and that’s how Garry discovered his “very light” grandparents were Irish, from Ireland. It explained his grandmother’s long red hair!


  3. I guess this is a day for reflection for you. Happy Memorial Day. Last weekend was our Victoria Day weekend. Can you imagine we still look back on that old, long gone Queen ?


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