Memorial Day

"My Dad, William Hall, was born in 1915 in the small Virginia town of Tucker Hill. By the time World War ll came he had already experienced almost 3 decades of racial bigotry and oppression. I remember many conversations my Dad about his military service, the segregation and extreme military racism he encountered. He served not because he wanted to but because he was drafted. He had no real affection for a nation that denied his rights simply because of the color of his skin. So every Memorial Day was not a day our family spent honoring those who served and sacrificed in America's armed forces. My Dad spent the day visiting those members of his family who suffered through the oppression of White America. We would always go to Tucker Hill, Virginia and visit Mount Zion Church where the members of his family were laid to rest. I kinda wish that my Dad's final resting place was in that small cemetery at Mount Zion but he was buried beside my mother and near his son in a Veteran's Cemetery in Crownsville, Maryland. Funny, neither my brother, Ralph, who fought in the jungles of South Vietnam, or his Dad believed in the United States a country that they both lived in and fought for. Why? Because, both understood the racism that forced them not be able to live their best lives. So, I was brought up not to have these grandiose visions of American democracy. I can thank my Dad for that. So, on this Memorial Day I bring remembrances of Ralph, and Rock who survived military duty but faced a more oppressive enemy at home. One that gave no quarter and fought against them gaining any strategic land. America, shame on you!"

#theblackblogger