[Old and Reliable]

Possibly we all have a family member or close friend whose name is forever etched on the onyx Wall. Gone but never forgotten.

The late poet Joyce Kilmer wrote this during WW1: "In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet, there is a new-made grave today, Built by never a spade or pick, Yet covered with earth ten meters thick. There lie many fighting men, dead in their youthful prime. Never to laugh or love again, Nor taste the summertime"--

Joyce Kilmer, famed for his poem circa 1912 "Trees", was reportedly shot by a German sniper on the morning of Armistice day, 1918. Communication was not effective back then, apparently the sniper was not yet informed, who can say, maybe he would have shot anyway.

There was a good sized contigent of lads from the Queen City that rode the trains in Northern Michigan for two months of YMCA camp. Each Sunday we had a non-denominational Church service at the small chapel by a point on the Northern arm of that vast lake. I remember yet today the sermon about the "Yellow Butterflies" and the Mother who lost her only unfound son in that "War To End All Wars"- when she was there in D.C. in 1921 when President Harding dedicated the Tomb Of The Unknowns, she saw some yellow butterflies flying near the monument.