This year is a milestone Memorial Day of remembrance, honor, mourning, and reflection.
Although it was first officially observed in 1868, to honor those who'd made the ultimate sacrifice on the field of battle during the Civil War, this great country had been losing its valiant defenders and ardent patriots in conflicts for ninety-three years prior to that, starting at Lexington and Concord.
America's finest and bravest have paid that price ever since, in great wars and small, here on our own slice of North America and across a globe once thought to be so vast it would be impossible for any one country to influence it all, let alone project power when needed.
Yet, because of American exceptionalism and our exceptional, innate drive to serve our country and answer the call when it comes, it has been the United States to the rescue of the world.
And it has cost so dearly, in every instance, whatever the cause or how righteous.
Somewhere, hearts were broken.
Somewhere, a great rending sadness tore someone's life apart because a son, a husband, a precious daughter, or wife, a father or mother wasn't coming home this time.
While we are spending our Memorial Day holiday at the lake or beach, please remember these Alabama Airmen who lost their lives just a few months ago.
Pray for their families.
#MemorialDayMaj.
John KlinnerCapt.
Ariana SavinoTech.
Ashley Pruitt pic.twitter.com/3X68hUCK88— Stupid Girl From Alabama (@deannkh10) May 25, 2026 I have seen that - as an adolescent girl with a crazy crush on the gorgeous teenage son of some of my parents' best friends.
Oh, didn't I go head over heels gaga for him in his glorious Marine Corps uniform.
And I heard my mother the night she got the phone call from his step-mom, Lori, that Jeff was gone.
Their only boy was gone.
I have found Jeff's name on the Vietnam Wall South here in Pensacola - PFC Jeffery Scott Patterson.
I give it a little rub when we visit.
If you walk in the main entrance to the Veterans' Park and head towards the Wall, you might notice the brick path.
Nearly every paver is engraved, and there's one from our family for our nephew, John.
We lost him to a suicide bombing at Bagram in 2016.
John wasn't supposed to even be in Afghanistan - he had orders for a 'B' billet in the States.
But, as he explained to his mom, he couldn't leave his shop.
They were too short-handed.
John had to be with his guys.
Duty and honor run so deep in these young hearts.
We buried him at Arlington in Section 60, the Afghanistan section.
Oh, the scars tearing up the grass for all the new graves were as raw as our hearts.
...We buried John at Arlington that December....
