Music, Memory and Memorial Day

Memorial Day has always been a time to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our country. From my earliest memories, the day was filled with outward expressions of patriotism—flags on porches in the neighborhood, flying over businesses, lining sidewalks, and attached to lampposts. Everywhere I looked, the world was drenched in red, white, and blue.

Originally called Decoration Day, it began as a way to honor Union soldiers who died fighting in the Civil War. It grew out of local commemorations across the country, where graves were adorned with flowers, flags, and dedications to the fallen. Over time, it became a national observance. In 1967, Congress officially changed the name to Memorial Day, and in 1971, it was designated a federal holiday.

For some, it is a solemn and sacred occasion, and it truly is a day for us to hold reverently in our hearts. But for others, it is also a celebration of life and the freedoms we enjoy, made possible by those we honor. As a kid, I loved the parades, baseball games, and barbecues. Music was always part of the festivities, from the plaintive sorrow of “Taps” to the rousing tunes of marching bands. As I got older, music—especially music festivals—began to take center stage.

I was reminded of this just last Sunday when I went to our local tavern, The Perch, to hear a rousing band called Rose’s Pawn Shop. I read that their music is “characterized by a fusion of traditional bluegrass instrumentation with rock and punk energy,” which is pretty darn accurate if you ask me. The place was packed, and the five musicians were crammed into a corner, just inches apart from each other. Those of us lucky enough to be there were so close we were practically on top of them.

They played flawlessly and exuberantly to the delight of the boisterous crowd. I’ve been to many concerts but only a few have been infused with such a raw, palpable energy that connected the audience and the musicians in so powerful an emotional current like it did that night with Rose’s Pawn Shop.

During a break, the lead singer mentioned they’d be playing at the Strawberry Festival this coming Memorial Day weekend. That instantly transported me back to the years when I made the trip north to the festival, which was then held just outside Yosemite. As soon as we entered the campground, it felt like stepping into a magical world where music, dancing, love, and laughter filled every moment.

We camped with family and friends, set up our chairs in front of the stage in the beautiful mountain meadow, and soaked in the extraordinary musical talent from morning till night. At the end of the evening, many musicians wandered through the campsites with their instruments and joined impromptu jam sessions under the magnificent stars.

Strawberry still takes place every Memorial Day, though it was eventually forced to move to Grass Valley. I haven’t been to the new location. Instead, we began attending the Cajun Festival in Simi Valley, where I then lived. That allowed an even larger gathering of family and friends, and for years it became our new tradition. We set up canopies for shade near the stage, ate the delicious variety of food, and danced to the pulsating beat of down-home Cajun music.

Music is a gift from the soul. It touches something inexplicable deep inside and has the ability to connect us in ways not possible with words or actions. It can elevate and mesmerize, make us reflect or rejoice, grieve or exalt. It has the power to dissolve the barriers we build, between cultures, races, and religions, and remind us of our shared humanity. It can move us to joy or tears, and sometimes both at once.

So this Memorial Day, I will remember with deep gratitude those who gave their all, and I will also celebrate the freedom their sacrifice made possible. I’ll embrace family a little closer, reconnect with old friends, and make sure we are surrounded by the music that brings us together.