I am a salesman. In the late 1970’s I was in the little village of Thessalon, Ontario. I had made my call on my account, only to find that the owner would not be back until that afternoon. Not missing a beat, I said that I would try to see him on my way back from Sault Ste. Marie. I exited the store and was about to get into my car when I heard the sound of a drum beat. Looking up the street I saw the color guard of the Canadian Legion entering the only route out of town. “Damn” I thought, “Remembrance Day” I’ll never get out of here!
There was a small crowd moving up the street, following the parade. So…’what the hell’ I’m not going anywhere, I might as well follow along. The ‘Legion Drummers’ stopped at the Cenotaph, marked time and continued to beat their cadence. It took me a moment or two to reach where the crowd had gathered and when I got there the Legion Color Guard were escorting a wreath to be laid at the Cenotaph.
The crowd was not large, maybe 200 people, so I was able to get close to the ceremony. The wreath was laid and a lone trumpet played “The Last Post”. As this was happening I looked to my right and standing beside me, in his Legion regalia, was a man, maybe 3 or 4 years older than me. I noticed a tear slowly running down his cheek.
Thinking I might be of comfort to this man…I leaned over and said,
“Did you lose someone close to you?”
He didn’t even look at me and said,
“Yes…All of them”
That hit me like a ton of bricks, and within 2 heart beats he looked up to me and said,
“and so did you”.
The second ton of bricks fell. We did not speak again, but I have never forgotten the impact of that statement “and so did you”. That moment in time has remained with me, not only on Remembrance Day, but every time I hear of another casualty, I think of that tear running down the face of a stranger and remember “yes…all of them.”
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