Friday, September 2, 2011

THE SADDEST TWENTY MILES


People say all small towns look the same. The old brick buildings guarding the streets silently speak of the past, when they were new and full of life. The traffic light on Main Street measures the slow pace of life in increments of green, yellow and red. Most times, the Christmas decorations go up on the streetlights after Halloween and don’t come down until the first warm day of spring.

The flag at the courthouse is no odd sight; flags in small towns are common and patriotism runs high along with societal values. The speed limit is no more than 35, and everyone knows that. There’s no reason to rush, anyway.

My first clue that something was different about Madill that August day was the sign. On the very far northern edge of the “city” limits someone had placed a huge banner by the side of the two-lane highway. It stood unfurled between two wooden poles.

“A TRUE AMERICAN HERO,” the lettering read, and below that, “2ND LT. JOE CUNNINGHAM.”

Red and blue magic marker starbursts filled the white void of the background around the letters, leaving no doubt that the banner had taken hours of loving, painstaking precision to create.

And the rockets’ red glare,
The bombs bursting in air…


The banner stood as the beginning of what was to be a somber twenty miles of driving for me that day. Only a few feet from where the banner had been placed, small roadside flags were planted in the parched Oklahoma soil. There had been no rain for weeks, and with our record-breaking number of triple-digit days, I could only imagine how hard it must have been to push those small, fragile twelve-inch sticks into the rock-hard ground at such measured intervals.

If you’ve ever lived in a small town, you know Saturday mornings are the liveliest, busiest times of the week. Not so on this Saturday morning. As I topped the hill and the main part of town came into view, my heart skipped a beat. I had never seen such a profusion of color. Red, white and blue—everywhere. Flags flew from every porch, every small business, every conceivable place visible…and that could only mean one very tragic thing.

Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there…


I slowed down to twenty-five as tears blurred my eyes. A car pulled out in front of me a little further down the road, and I looked to my right. The side road had been blocked off. There were at least two hundred motorcycles parked beside the First Baptist Church. The Patriot Guard Riders had come to pay their respects—and to be certain that everyone else did, too, should a certain crazed group of fanatics from Kansas decide to make an appearance.

Across from the motorcycles, a huge, beautiful American flag was unfurled, the field of blue lending its stars to heaven, the stripes perpendicular to the ground. In front of that flag stood perhaps fifty lawmen of every type, a mix from both sides of the Red River, Texans and Oklahomans.

The parking lots for the businesses in the immediate area were full to overflowing, even though none of those businesses were open. Signs filled the windows under where the flags flew: “CLOSED. BACK AT 1:00 P.M. REST IN PEACE, JOE.”

I stopped at the light on Main Street. The courthouse flag was, of course, flying at half-mast. There were no other cars on the road. The one that had pulled out in front of me earlier had turned off a block back, at the first available parking place, a long, half-mile hike away from the church. I was driving through a ghost town.

The signboard at the Grab & Go read, “OBAMA MAY BE PRESIDENT, BUT GOD IS STILL IN CHARGE.” Any other time, I might have smiled, but not with that small picket of flags that still sporadically lined the road, reminding me of the terrible loss this town was reeling from.

Another hand-lettered sign by the road: “WE’LL MISS YOU, JOE. GO WITH GOD.”
And yet, another: “REST IN PEACE, JOE. WE WILL NEVER FORGET.”

I drove out of Madill, headed for Kingston, another small town, a few short miles away.

Small towns, close together, are usually rivals on the high school football field and in most other things, but when all is said and done, we remember that we are, all of us, citizens of the same wonderful country, and that’s what matters—more than who wins the game on Friday night, more than which town has the best point guard on the basketball court, and more than which quarterback has better chances with the big college scouts. As Americans, we all have equal ‘bragging rights’—we are Americans, and no other country pulls together as we do when the going gets tough.

I couldn’t think of anything, anywhere, any time being tougher than losing even one of our young men to war. A bright smile that would never be seen again, coming through his parents’ door; two arms that could never open to hug his best girl again; the echoing sound of emptiness forever where once his steps fell—an aching, empty hole in the lives of every person he ever knew that could never, never be filled.

My thoughts rolled over one another as I drove. I wondered about him, about his family—about what he’d left behind, and how the people he’d known would ever manage to survive without him in their lives forevermore.

I was on the fringes of Kingston when the roadside flags started up in earnest again—though they’d never completely stopped. But now, it looked as if someone had planted a beautiful garden of red, white, and blue flowers in the cracked, dry Oklahoma soil.

As Kingston came into view ahead, flags fluttered in the wind at every business. Some buildings had bunting on their storefronts.

It doesn’t take long to cover the few miles from one end of Kingston to the other. But with every inch of ground I traveled, there was no doubt that 2nd Lieutenant Joe Cunningham was remembered, respected, and revered.

As I drove out of town, yellow ribbons tied around several branches of a tree in someone’s yard caught my eye.

“HE IS HOME. REST IN PEACE.”

No small town rivalry, now. As Americans all, we share only a unified, joint loss of a shining star; the precious, irreplaceable light of someone’s life.

He was 27. He loved to hunt and fish. He had dreams of becoming a highway patrol officer and finishing his degree. He always wore a smile.

I will never drive that sad stretch of road again without remembering a man I never met. A hometown hero is gone forever, but he will never, never be forgotten.

37 comments:

  1. Cheryl--you have touched my heart as deeply as anything has lately. I could barely see the words through the tears in my eyes. What a wonderful tribute you have written, not only to a soldier, but to the loyal, loving citizens of these towns. There's nothing like it.
    I thank you, for using your God-given talent for writing to publish something everyone should read.
    Please, for this weekend, post this everywhere you can--I hope others read it--they will be blessed.
    Cheryl, you are a very special woman.
    Celia

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  2. AW, CELIA!!! Now you are making me cry!!!! I have to tell you, I was a bawling wreck for miles. Had to really "pull it together" before I got to Durant, which is not that far from Kingston. It made me think back to the Viet Nam days, and the incoming flag-draped caskets that finally, were banned from being photographed by presidential order, I believe. I would love to post it other places, or have others post it! I don't have much of a following for my blogs since I have neglected them. Maybe I should just "get out there" and advertise on the loops. I do wish people would read, remember and think about what's happening. In this past Sunday's paper here, there was a front page spread of this man's funeral and another soldier's who was only 21. Very sobering.

    Thanks so much for your kind words, Celia--that means the world to me.
    Cheryl

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  3. Thanks Cheryl, for such a wonderful tribute! God Bless America and it's people.

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  4. Cheryl,
    I would have been a wreck for many miles after that. What a moving tribute--and what a tragedy. I'll repost it on my blog--although I haven't updated it in forever--because it is a good reminder of what's going on "over there," which so many of us forget in the day-to-day rush.

    And a shout-out to the Patriot Guard Riders. I love those guys.

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  5. I posted a big ol' comment but it never showed up.
    I just want to say what a wonderful tribute you posted for one of many who gave their all for their country and the way their loss effected the lives of those who remember them.

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  6. Teresa,

    You are welcome. I feel the same way; God Bless America and its people!

    Cheryl

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  7. Cheryl, what a poignant tribute to a man who gave his life for his country. It's towns like this that revitalize my faith in America. Thanks so much for sharing.

    Steph

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  8. THANK YOU, KEENA! And please, anyone who wants to repost, feel free to do so. I haven't posted here in almost a year, so you can see how important this was to me, Keena. I love the Patriot Guard Riders, too. What a great group!
    Cheryl

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  9. Sarah,that same thing happened to another commenter today too. I'm so sorry! I hate writing a long comment and having it disappear. Blogger is really slow today, too.Thanks so much for coming by and commenting.
    Hugs,
    Cheryl

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  10. Hi Steph,
    I AGREE! We don't think much about small towns because everything has become so "fast-paced in today's world. But I believe that they are truly the backbone of America.
    Hugs,
    Cheryl

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  11. THIS COMMENT IS POSTED ON BEHALF OF MARY HARDWICK

    Cheryl,
    What an enduring tribute! This tightened my chest with a swell of pride and sorrow. Pride in the fact that Joe's fellow citizen recognized his sacrifice; sorrow that his family and friends lost a very special man. Thank you for finding just the right words to remind us all how wonderful our miliitary is.

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  12. Mary,

    Thanks so much for coing by and posting -sorry you had such trouble getting your comment to show up. I know with your military family background that you know firsthand the sacrifices that are made. Yes, our military is wonderful--filled with very special people.
    Cheryl

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  13. Awww. As the mother of a soldier, this truly touched my heart. I wouldn't have been able to see the road through my tears. God bless Joe and all of his fallen comrades.

    Maggie

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  14. Maggie,

    Thanks so much for coming by and commenting. I know you have been busy with booksignings and such! Thank goodness I know that old road by heart--I guess that's what made it so hard to believe, seeing it through a new perspective. Yes, God bless Joe and all the others, too.
    Cheryl

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  15. Well, I hadn't planned on starting my Sunday morning with a good cry - but it was definately worth it. Cheryl, this is a beautiful story - so poignant! You imagery makes that little Oklahoma town pop into my reality as though I were in the car with you. It also makes me wistful for ever having moved away from that kind of support.
    On a different note - I think this is a sellable tale (in some format).
    Love always,
    Sharon

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  16. Cheryl,

    All I can say is "Wow"...What a great human interest story and Such a great Tribute to this young man. (Oklahoma lost 7 of these young men the same week Joe was killed)

    Your ability to articulate your feelings, just blew me away. I agree with Sharon...it was as though I was in the car with you. Much better than the local news coverage we got about the "coming home" of Lt. Joe Cunningham. Thanks girl! Love you!

    A. Madey

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  17. Hi Sharon,

    I know just what you mean about moving away from the small town we came from. Small towns have their drawbacks, for sure, but when you see that kind of support, and the outpouring of love, you realize what you are missing.

    Too, it seems like we always kind of gravitate back toward those days as we grow older. I always think of that scene at the end of The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, where Rance and Hallie come back for Tom's funeral, and Rance asks her in his slow, thoughtful way what she'd think about coming back out there to live. She's so thrilled, and you can just tell he's been thinking about it awhile, and by her reaction, so has she.

    I have neglected this blog--haven't posted for nearly a year here because I do so many guest blogs elsewhere, and group blogs. Maybe it's time to try to start up with it again. This story just touched my heart so much I HAD to write it.

    Thanks for your support and very kind words, my friend. I appreciate you coming by today.

    Love,
    Cheryl

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  18. Aunt Madey,

    I'm so glad to see you here. My blog is in sad need of updating and I haven't even posted here in almost a year, but I just had to write Joe's story and get it out there. You've driven that stretch of road many, many times, I know, so I'm sure you were seeing it right along with me. You know, something else I didn't put in the story was that all the way from Madill to the outskirts of Durant, I was meeting huge packs of motorcyclists headed for Madill, with yellow ribbons and small flags on their cycles, so I knew where they were headed. That was just unbelievable, the support.

    Thanks so much again for coming by and commenting.

    LOVE YOU,
    Cheryl

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  19. Thank you so much for sharing this, Cheryl. It was beautiful and incredibly heartbreaking at the same time. My wish is that everyone could read this, and "feel" it in their hearts like I did. It was a story that needs to be told....over and over. SO that we never forget.

    Hugs, Kari Thomas, www.authorkari.com

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  20. Kari,
    Thank you so much for your heartfelt comments. You are so right--I am still heartbroken over that drive, and I know it will stay with me forever. Please, anyone who wants to, repost or link to this blog. Kari, my wish is the same, that people read this and remember. Thanks again so much for your comments.
    Cheryl

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  21. Cheryl, You beautifully wrote what so many of us feel. And dread when our loved ones are sent overseas.

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  22. Thank you, Paty. That is a drive I make often as I have relatives in that part of the state. I will never drive through there again without remembering that day.
    Cheryl

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  23. Stunningly beautiful, Cheryl. Thanks for sharing this tender, heart-rending experience. God bless all who loved Joe and love him still.

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  24. How beautiful and heartbreaking. Bless the young people from all countries who put themselves in harm's way trying to make the world a better place.

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  25. Tanya, I could do nothing else but think of writing this tribute the entire time I was away. It was good to have a few days to let my thoughts settle and remember, before I sat down to write it. I know words can never do that sight justice, but at least I know I tried. It's a picture I will carry with me forever. Yes, my friend, God bless everyone Joe left behind. My thoughts are with them.
    Hugs,
    Cheryl

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  26. Well said, Jennie! When we think of it that way, it's not just service people who are out there trying to make a difference, but young people who stand up for their beliefs and really are convicted in their hearts to do what they can do to make the world better. I think of the recent governmental coups in so many foreign countries in the last few weeks/months. The hardships those rebels went through and the images of them dancing victoriously when it was over...and in between, the wondering, the unknown, and the frightening "what its" that must have assailed them! Thank you so much for coming by. I appreciate you!
    Hugs,
    Cheryl

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  27. Thank you Cheryl. You made me cry. So sad. You made me feel like I was living the scene.

    Yes, Thank God, He is still in control. No one can take that away from Him.

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  28. Laurie,
    Thank you so much for coming by and reading, and leaving a comment. Yes, the whole drive along that route was very sad, and it's one I will never forget, for sure.
    Hugs,
    Cheryl

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  29. Cheryl what a touching story. I truly can say you have put into words what so many feels in their hearts and I thank you for such a chance to hear about Joe. It saddens my heart to know so many families are torn apart by such actions but it also warms my heart when everyone sticks together to be with those famlies. susan L.

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  30. Hi Susan,

    Thank you for that wonderful compliment. Writing this, I worried about "doing it right" and getting across the way I was feeling about it to the reader. I agree with you, completely. The way our communities come together in support of the families of these fallen soldiers is so touching. Even the support from strangers is unbelievable, and so wonderful. Thanks for coming by and commenting, Susuan. I appreciate it.
    Cheryl

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  31. POSTED ON BEHALF OF NIK MORTON:

    Cheryl, Thanks for bringing your article to my attention. A beautifully written well observed tear-jerker that doesn't slide into mawkishness or oversentimentality. Your writing clearly touches hearts - and that's the best reason to write. Thank you.
    Nik
    PS - a similar epiphany visited me when I wrote 'Nourish a blind life'. N

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  32. Hi Nik,

    Thank you so much for trying to comment here, and going to the trouble to write the comment all over again to send in an e-mail! I don't know what's up with blogger, but I know several people have had that happen, (and if anyone who's reading this is one of them, please feel free to e-mail me at fabkat_edit@yahoo.com with your comment and I will post if for you!)

    Thank you, thank you, so much for your very kind words about this piece. The memory of that drive will never fade for me. I would love to hear more about your "Nourish a Blind Life", Nik.

    Cheryl

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  33. I also live in a rural town, and have a very vivid image in my head of one of the funeral of one of our young hometown soldiers.

    Miles of Hwy 146 lined with flags..beautiful and tragic simultaneously.

    I loved your tribute. Thank you for sharing.

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  34. Thanks for coming by and commenting, C. So, so sad. I will never forget that as long as I live.
    Cheryl

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  36. Cheryl, thank you for sharing these moving words with us. Such a heart-wrenching tribute, indeed.

    Warmest regards,

    Cindy Nord

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    Replies
    1. Cindy, thank you, my friend. That memory still touches my heart often.
      Cheryl

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