On Memorial Day weekend, old poem beautifully captures horrors of war

I don't want to appear disloyal to the American charcoal, meat and beer industries, but Memorial Day isn't only for grilling and drinking.

And it's not only for empty politics from empty political suits.

Relaxing and having fun are part of a three-day holiday weekend, sure, but lest we forget, there are other components of Memorial Day that take precedent.

Like the poppies, and perhaps a trip to the cemetery and quiet prayers for the fallen and maybe a nod to Lt. Col. John McCrae.

There are still some who know about McCrae and what the poppies mean. Not many, but a few, like Michael Turck. He knows.

"I was out with the poppies the other day at Union Station," said Turck, 72, a Vietnam veteran and quartermaster of Logan-Avondale VFW Post 2978 in Chicago. "And some of the other guys were at the other train stations. That's what we do around Memorial Day. The poppies."

You've seen them, haven't you, out on the street, at commuter stations? Some wear old uniforms or other insignia. They come from the Veterans of Foreign Wars and other service organizations.

They hold out a tiny flower, a paper facsimile of a poppy, and you drop a donation in a can. The money goes to help veterans, especially those in VA hospitals.

"We did better than last year, since the controversy over the scandals in the VA hospitals," Turck told me. "But you know what? In the 25 years I've been doing this, nobody asked me about the poppies.

"I take that back," he said. "One guy did. One guy in 25 years. He said, 'What's with the poppies?' And I said, 'Did you ever hear of John McCrae?'"

McCrae was a Canadian army doctor, from Guelph, Ontario, during World War I.

It was April 1915, in Flanders, Belgium; the Germans began shelling the trenches with a new weapon: chlorine gas.

McCrae somehow survived. He helped treat the wounded. He helped bury the dead, including a close friend.

Later, he noticed something growing among the graves: poppies. If you know the poppy, if you've grown them, you know they look somewhat like the little paper flowers, but not really.

They're much brighter, red or orange, and sometimes, if they're singletons growing alone or unsupported, the width of the blossoms can overwhelm the delicate stems.

McCrae was a soldier first, from an Army family. He was a doctor second. But he was also a poet, and after that battle, he wrote one of the defining poems of the war that was supposed to end all wars.

"In Flanders Fields"

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.

I cannot read or hear it read on a warm spring day without feeling a chill. A few years ago, visiting the national cemetery near Joliet, standing among new graves, I took a copy out of my pocket and read it silently.

McCrae died of pneumonia and other complications three years after the battle. There is a museum dedicated to him in his hometown of Guelph. My mother was born there.

"The McCraes were respected, revered," she said. "They weren't treated as celebrities, the way we treat entertainers now. There was none of that. But there was great respect and we all knew the poem."

For decades it was known by schoolchildren, by adults, by most all citizens of the allied nations and Germans, too.

It was read aloud in churches, in schools, in public places on what was once Decoration Day, but later became Memorial Day here, and in Canada on Nov. 11, to mark the armistice and the silencing of the guns.

A charity group in Belgium began selling poppies to support war orphans, and soon American service organizations began doing the same. The poppies of Flanders became tiny paper flowers offered by old soldiers as a way of helping their brothers.

"We used to hand out little cards with each poppy, telling about Col. McCrae and why we had the little flowers," Turck said. "But they'd take the poppies and toss the paper. So we stopped giving them out. Most don't know."

Turck said he spent his years in Vietnam in the U.S. Navy on aircraft carriers, and now runs a small trucking business. He's wondered for years what triggered the poem.

"Was it the friend that died? All the deaths, seeing the flowers by the graves?" Turck asked. "I don't know. I've read about it, but can it tell you what was in his mind when he wrote it?"

He has one wish about "In Flanders Fields." He wishes it would be taught in schools.

"But they won't teach it," he said. "You know they won't. And that's how we forget."

jskass@tribune.com

Twitter @John_Kass

Source: http://chicagotribune.com

In search of spring at William O’Brien

In search of spring this Mother’s Day weekend, we headed north on Hwy 95 to William O’Brien State Park. I had hoped to canoe on the St. Croix River this Memorial Day weekend, but after seeing the river swollen, brown and flowing fast, I decided I would have to wait until later in the summer. Further back from the river along the trail, we found delicate spring wildflowers scattered throughout the woods like charms from a broken bracelet.

William O’Brien, which was designated as a Minnesota State Park in 1947, protects a number of unique natural habitats, including floodplain forest and groundwater seepage swamps. When the St. Croix runs high after the spring snow melt and heavy rains, the river floods up over its banks, scouring the surface of the floodplain and depositing silt and sediment when it subsides. Tall trees with shallow but far-reaching roots like cottonwood, silver maple, box elder and black willow are specially adapted for the frequent flooding.

Further inland from the river, groundwater seeps keep the soil moist year-round. In the spring, an abundance of water burbles to the surface, creating temporary streams and wetlands. Marsh marigolds are blooming right now, cheery yellow flowers with deep green leaves, and clumps of skunk cabbage dot the woods as well. The water in the springs is clear and cold.

On higher ground, woodland wildflowers are also blooming. While hiking, we saw round-lobed hepatica, bloodroot and wood violets. Some of the woodland flowers are ephemeral, meaning they only appear in the early spring when trees and shrubs are still bare and sunlight is able to reach the forest floor. Within a period of less than two months, they emerge, bloom, are pollinated by insects, set seed and then return to a state of dormancy, hidden underground for the rest of the year.

Bloodroot, named for its distinctive red sap, flowers for only a day or two before dying. Other woodland plants, like violets, remain green throughout the growing season, though they only bloom in the spring. Some, like hepatica and false rue anemone have colorful sepals instead of petals, which helps to explain their delicate appearance.

In the ponds the frogs are calling. Like spring wildflowers, many of them have also adapted to make use of meadows and woodlands that are only wet in the spring. Approximately half of all frogs and one-third of all salamander species in North America rely on ephemeral wetlands where they can lay their eggs, safe from hungry fish. Insects like dragonflies and damselflies also lay their eggs in seasonal ponds for the same reason. Further up the food chain, migratory birds and waterfowl follow the St. Croix River corridor on their journey north, stopping over in wetlands along the way.

Spring has finally arrived in Minnesota. Before long, summer will follow fast on its heels in a sweaty jumble of camping and bonfires, county fairs and grubby bare feet. For now, there is the fleeting joy of hiking without mosquitoes and finding flowers in the woods.

Source: http://stillwatergazette.com

In belated Minnesota spring, when ice goes out, boats go in

As soon as the ice was off lakes McCarrons and Josephine in the northeast metro this spring, Mike Lobejko donned his waders and started scanning the lake bottoms with a metal detector.

On Friday, after turning up a ring, a 1937 penny and plenty of rusty nails in St. Paul's Lake Phalen, he explained why he goes out so early.

"It's the solitude," he said.

But that shouldn't last much longer.

With temperatures slated for the upper 50s this weekend and antsy anglers prepping for next weekend's fishing opener, area lakes should soon be swarming with activity.

In Ramsey County, every launch is open for the season, said spokeswoman Allison Winters.

The courtesy dock at White Bear Lake's county ramp is not out; last season it never made it out because of shallow water.
Sylvia Coleman, front, and University of Minnesota women’s rowing team members practice Friday on Lake Phalen. (Pioneer Press: Jean Pieri)
Sylvia Coleman, front, and University of Minnesota women's rowing team members practice Friday on Lake Phalen. (Pioneer Press: Jean Pieri)
The water is deep enough near Matoska Park for installation of a courtesy dock at the city launch Monday, said Mary Helmerick with the Public Works department.

Anglers aren't the only folks getting boats out on Ramsey County lakes.

On Phalen, the University of Minnesota women's rowing team is hosting a regatta against the University of Wisconsin on Sunday. This first race of the season is the team's only one at home.

"Obviously, we're hoping for sunshine," said Tracy Merth, graduate assistant coach. "I would expect some long sleeves out there at least."

For a week on either side of the fishing opener, a barge will be on Bald Eagle Lake applying a long-planned aluminum sulfate treatment meant to clear the water of phosphorus.

The treatment, set to begin Monday, will turn a milky white in the water, said Matt Kocian of the Rice Creek Watershed District. Kocian doesn't think the treatment will negatively affect the fishing opener, though. The barge will actually be beached over the opener, he said.

He said lake clarity, which averages about two feet during the year, should double after the treatment.

"It's going to make a huge difference," he said.

John Brewer can be reached at 651-228-2093. You should follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/jbrewerpipress.

The water level on White Bear Lake is up more than 10 inches since February and up more than 6 inches higher from a year ago, according to Alan Rupnow with Ramsey County Public Works.

Bald Eagle Lake is overflowing into a creek on its north end.

Turtle Lake is up more than 10 inches since this winter.



Source: http://www.twincities.com