Tradition. It means leaving the house at 8 am to be sure we are there in time to watch the annual Norfolk Memorial Day Parade. My husband usually marches in it most years with the veterans, but now watches it with me.
The parade is barely 10 minutes long, but you can watch it on one side of the green, go across and watch it on the other side and then follow it down the hill to the World War I memorial, and watch them march back up the hill. At the WWI memorial, a ceremony is held, and we listen as names are read of loved ones and friends who served and have passed away.
Patriotic band music, marchers from different organizations, gun salutes, taps being played and echoed back. This is tradition and going back up the hill to our car is a little harder every year, but another year done.
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The Norfolk Congregational Church where we were married in 1975.
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Ringing the bell.
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Taps.
Of interesting historic note, a name was added to the honor roll from an accident that happened March 31, 1943. Lt. Daniel Henry Thorson was on a training flight from Long Island to Bradley when his plane crashed in Norfolk due to stormy weather conditions. The plane was not found by the military search team. A few weeks later, two Yale Forestry students happened upon the crash site near Blackberry Ridge.
A granite memorial was put at the scene of the crash in 2003. Although Lt. Thorson was from Great Falls, Montana, he is honored and remembered in Norfolk, CT.
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