The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1899-05-26
MEMORY EVER GREEN
GRAVES WHERE HEROES SLEEP FOND
W REMEMBERED.
Memorial Day, with It's beautiful
Custom, Comes Again-Tributes of
Flowers For valor's LowIy Bed.
Victory of Peace.


Custom, Comes Again-Tributes of
Flowers For valor's LowIy Bed.
Victory of Peace.
On fields once stained with the blood Of
fellow countrymen, where brave men con-
tended for the mastery, will be assembled
on Memorial day an army of peaceful citi-
zens with the olive branch for arms and
good will toward all and with malice to
none. The bloody strife, long since made
matter of history, will be further for
gotten, and in fraternal fellowship greater
assurance given of forgiveness and love
cemented by the enduring ties of COM
mon nationality. On this day the blue and
the gray will meet In loyal concord to COM
memorate not northern or southern valor
or victory, but national unity under the
banner of the Free All sections will proud
ly claim kinship in valorous deeds, and
with reverent tears will bedew the graves
Of American soldiers who gave the last
full measure of devotion for the cause they
loved. Instead of the bayonet and the
bullet will be the handshake of kindly
greeting, and In the place of laundering
cannon and crack Of musket will be the
harmonious sounds of friendly and loving
voices of welcome and good cheer.
Memorial day brings proud memories Of
many hard fought battlefields sweet men,
cries alike of valor and friendship; sad
memories of fraternal strife; tender mem
cries of fallen brothers and sons, whose
dying eyes looked last upon the nations
flag; grand memories of heroic virtues
sublime by grief; exultant memories of
the great and final victories of our coun-
try, our Union and the righteous cause;
thankful memories of the deliverance
wrought ont by human nature itself I'M
exampled by any former achievement Of
arms Immortal memories, with immortal
honors blended, cluster about these men,
make the day commemorative of their
achievements, and weave themselves along
the warp and wool of our glorious banner
Oh, soldier, to your honor rest,
Your truth and valor bearingi
The bravest are the tenderest;
The loving are the daring.
Patriotism, love of country, respect OF
law, obedience to the constituted authori-
ties, swayed the loyal sons Of the republic
in the dark hour. They were always found
clinging to the constitution and the Union
as the sheet anchor of hope for the welfare of
their children. Some sleep today in graves
in the sunny south, some in lonely ra-
ed Unknown" yet they are not unknown
or forgotten, for their names are engraved
in Columbia's temple of fame, where time
can never dim their splendid luster. The
people of the nation are equally proud of
those who have pitched their tents on the
plains of the spirit land and those who yet
walk with us the paths of life.
Time has softened the memories Of the
war. The grief felt for those who died gen.
GRAFTON ago has been assuaged Poignant
grief for individuals has been changed
into admiration for the heroes who en-
dured four years of privation and suffer-
ing, of weary marches and bloody battles,
of wounds and disease, of starvation and
the other horrors of southern prisons, who
now lie in silent sleep under grassy
mounds. Those who crowd the cemeteries
on Memorial day. if they do not shed tears
at every grave, as they did years ago, will
pause and pay q tribute to the memory Of
all the brave soldiers who are buried there.
Over generation Of time has gone by
since the war between the north and tho
south ended. The memories of that awful
struggle between brothers of one race have
lost their bitterness, and the clouds of
powder smoke and the wide, thick trail Of
blood have disappeared in the merciful
vista of the years. The men who met, mad
with the rage of battle, and sought each
others life in the shock of cold steel and
dubbed muskets, dwell together in peace
and unity. Each succeeding year sees the
placement of the spirit of strife more near
ly complete, and the men who fought in
blue and gray are now good comrades, fast
friends. Whatever feeling of enmity that
still exists Is kept up by those who were
never at the front. The true soldiers
fought out their differences and accepted
the verdict of ball and bayonet.
Since the close of the war generation
of millions of Americans has grown to
maturity, even to the borders of middle
age. The babes in arms at the time of the
surrender of the Confederate army at APP
pomattox are now men and women who
know only Of that awful folr years Of
battle in story. Yet the unwritten his
tory, the histories of individuals, the stir
ring annals of heroic deeds, will never be
published.
The grand army of veterans is marching
into the beyond. The steps of the surviv-
ors of those four years of strife are falter-
ing, and in another generation only here
and there will a lonely man, in the trem-
ulous accents of great age, talk of the days
VI OuO lhlSUy pdSU WutD VI Iucn
were under arms in the blood stained
southland.
The muster roll of the Grand Army Of
the Republic is fast diminishing in length,
and it can be calculated with almost
mathematical certainty in how many
years the Grand Army will be only a
name, the posts all mustered out and only
a few lettering survivors left to wear in
their coats the bronze button of this grand,
patriotic organization.
Where the grass grows rank over a hum
dred southern battlefields the dead sleep
In peace and their splendid deeds were
often buried with them. Died they for
their cause in the swamps of the Wilder
ness, in the wheatfields of Gettysburg,
along the slopes of the Rappahannock, and
their shining acts of heroism no chronicles
sing.
But Ger the living and the dead,
Ger crumbling skull and silvered head.
The stars and stripes are flying.