I’ve passed it thousands of times, I’m sure, without really thinking about it, but lately the sign has been snagging against my consciousness like a hangnail on a cardigan sweater.
“Vietnam Veterans Dogwood Memorial,” announces the little wooden sign, where it sits on the side of the bypass under a few random trees.
Huh?
My subconscious mind tried to piece together Japanese cherry blossoms and dogwoods – but not only are they not the same but Japan is a far cry from Vietnam. I guess dogwoods are a natural pick for a tree memorial in Virginia, kind of like your go-to running back on the football team – nothing exotic, but dependable.
But my suspicion is that someone just stuck the sign under some pre-existing trees to save money.
Which, if you think about it, is brilliant.
Heck, I could erect all kinds of memorials. A sign on my front lawn could say “The Blades of Grass AIDS Memorial” and I bet you a million bucks there would be some red ribbons tossed in the yard within a week.
Okay, maybe not. (Mostly because a lot of people these days don’t remember the red ribbon. And it was the first ribbon out there! Can you believe it? Yes, I’m talking about you, Kathryn! Hee.)
But really, think about all the expense and effort that memorials exact from well-meaning citizens, and consider this low-invasive measure of inserting signs on pre-existing structures (both natural and otherwise). We could make Natural Bridge a memorial to 911 and it would only cost a sign.
You may think I’m against memorials, but the thing is, I’d actually be a huge adherent of them if they came with a little something more. Like some rituals. Having a bunch of information carved into marble can pique interest for further research, but I’d prefer more of an interactive experience. I want candles and incense, maybe a place to make an origami peace crane. A kite-flying contest. I’d like to go to the Vietnam war memorial under those dogwoods and discover a box to register to send money or adopt some orphans. Maybe a political book swap.
Because many of our memorials end up being meaningless. And really, we have memorials everywhere – every street sign points to something that existed before, the names of our municipal buildings honor someone with a lot of cash or status. But time passes and most of us have no clue why it’s called Seminole Trail or Cabell Library. We have signs that point us to our past but no idea what they are pointing to. We just drive by and sometimes one of us takes a picture and wonders what we’re seeing.
into the park 