“In Flanders fields the poppies blow..” Does Anybody Wear A Poppy on Memorial Day Anymore?

When I was a kid, my Irish grandfather lived with us for a number of years in the 1950s.  Every Memorial Day he would make sure everybody in the family, my parents and kids alike, bought and word a poppy to wear on Memorial Day.  He knew the significance of this symbol of remembrance.  We did not.

And now more than fifty years later, I wonder on this Memorial Day if anybody ever wears a poppy anymore?  I know the veterans groups used to set up in the mall and sell them but they are rare on Memorial Day.  You see very few people wearing poppies, and almost no kids for sure.

So this morning I went down to take my dear old Mom to her usual Memorial Day breakfast with my wife Trish.  And lo and behold look what she was wearing....

Her poppy!  "I have had it for years," she told me, "and wouldn't dare miss wearing it on Memorial Day."  I told her that I was going to start wearing one each year from now on also.  You are never too old to learn from your mother!

As we pulled into Sidney for breakfast the street was closed for the Memorial Day parade, which had just ended as I came across the Sidney bridge.  That is another thing that got me thinking.  How many small towns still have Memorial Day parades? When I was a kid these were big deals.  How about today?

Well, I know Oneonta has one, even though it has been small in the last few years.  And there is always a nice ceremony at the veterans memorials following at the park.  But I was away from Oneonta this Memorial Day so I assumed that, having just missed the Sidney parade, I was not going to get to enjoy one this year.

WRONG!

Look what I ran into in Unadilla on the way back home from breakfast with my Mom this morning.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie
         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.