Remembering those who passed before

Memorial Day always makes me a bit weepy--with gratitude for the sacrifices of those who came before us, who insured we have religious and personal freedom. Since we went to Ireland in April, our Scottish/Irish ancestors have been on my mind. On Memorial weekend, thoughts of them moving to America from the Emerald Isle, sacrificing many thing so we, their posterity, could enjoy the fruits of their labors was forefront in my mind.

James McBride, grandson of immigrants, was in born in Ohio in 1818 and baptized in June 1838 by two Mormon missionaries that came to their farm and shared their testimonies of the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. James, who lived less than a mile from Haun's Mill, survived the massacre on Oct. 30, 1838 by a mob of 240 men. However, his 63 yr. old father Thomas was shot point blank in the chest and then hacked to death with a scythe. James's brother Amos was tied to a tree and whipped with 18 lashes from a long hickory tearing flesh from his back. His brother Thomas was hung with a rope and died. James and his mother moved to Nauvoo, but shortly thereafter his mother Catherine perished in 1841. James married Olive Cheney, and they moved to Iowa. They excitedly anticipated the birth of their first child but sadly had to bury their first born son, Brigham, who only lived a few months.

With only a testimony and love of God, they traveled west, crossed the Missouri River and arrived in Salt Lake Oct. 4 , 1850. Brigham Young sent James and Olive to Grantsvilles, and they were the first settlers there. Indians stole and drove off all their cattle and oxen. More families moved in and they built a fort three feet thick by twelve feet high and grew grain. Things did not get better. In 1854 the grasshoppers destroyed a huge part of the crop. James shared what wheat he had even though it meant his family of four went without food. They suffered terribly in 1855 eating just roots like segoe from the lilies. James was the second counselor in the Branch Presidency when Johnson and his army came through. The saints worried about being hung as they army was bragging about cleansing the earth from Mormons. James, who believed that God protected him, had interactions with the soldiers and fed their horses. He wrote in his journal: "Shall it again be said that the overruling hand of the true and living God was near. The stone hearts within an army softened." The soldiers were kind to the Saints.

James taught, preserved and defended his religious beliefs for his family. By Jan 1, 1924 the family and posterity of James McBride was 275 souls. In his 58th year, James wrote "Every effort made by the enemies of this people to destroy them has been unsuccessful. I feel to acknowledge the hand of God in all things and bear testimony of the truth of the Gospel of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints."

Also on mom's side, Grandma Athlyn's brother Carvel Bingham served in the Pacific in WWII and was in Pearl Harbor when it was bombed. He survived and was shipped off to Guam to continue defending the Pacific. He was injured and starved but served valiantly to free the island from the cruel Japanese occupiers. He helped insure the cause of freedom would continue

These stories I share with my children so they have a love for their ancestors and understand the cost of standing up for the right and continuing despite great odds and hardships. For Memorial Day, once again, we headed 1 1/2 hours South of Rome to Anzio to the Nettuno cemetery where American soldiers are buried. These 18 year old boys gave up their lives for strangers, for people who lived halfway around the world because they believed in fighting for the right. They sacrificed everything they had to fight the Germans on Italian soil to stop the hate of the Nazi's and senseless killing of the Jews.

Trevor and Brendan looked at the thousands of crosses and tried to decide where to start cleaning.
The rest of BSA Rome Troop 236 did not show up

So Trevor and Brendan rolled up their sleeves and got busy and started washing the white Carrara Marble crosses.

It was unseasonably hot this year and once again the pigeons had brought gifts over the last year and left massive amounts of their dropping on the crosses.

It was backbreaking work but they persevered all the while thinking one Saturday was nothing to give up compared to the life the young men buried below gave up.

Lots of tour groups visited the cemetery and were astounded that we were out their cleaning.

I watered a few of the crosses with tears... I felt so proud to be an American and so deeply grateful that with all the evil in the world there are still great men and women willing to defend goodness with their last breaths.

Brendan went back to the cemetery the next day with his school classmates for a joint celebration with the Italian and American soldiers. Several veterans came up to him and thanked him for remembering the soldiers. A few shared their memories and said they wouldn't change the lives they lead. If they had it to do over again, they would gladly go back and serve their God and country.

We tried to notice the names on the crosses we washed and cleaned, and send a mental 'thank you" so they knew we were mindful of them. This name on the cross hit sorta close to home.

While kneeling and washing these crosses, I couldn't help but pray that my children would live long and happy lives and that they would REMEMBER how much Christ suffered in Gethsemane and on the cross for their behalf... REMEMBER to always stand up for the right and love their fellow man in whatever country they find themselves in. And finally I sent up a prayer of gratitude for exemplary ancestors like James and Carvel who sacrificed for their posterity, as well as fellow Saints and Americans, and left a legacy for their progeny to follow.