When I was a kid, our choice of church was simple. Whichever church paid Dad the most money to direct their choir became our church. In 1963, Dad was conducting at a small-but-really-nice church in Lakewood. For a small church, they had an excellent music program. Mom taught my Sunday School class, and was almost driven to distraction by one super active kid who would later become a great bass player, when we soon discovered Rock.
All in all, it was a relatively halcyon time for me. One of the hymns that we sang was “For the Beauty of the Earth”. (Lyrics written in 1864 by Folliot S. Pierpoint) While it had great lyrics, I often wondered why there wasn’t a heck of a lot about God in that song, except for the last two lines. I learned years later that the “God” stuff in our version had been watered down a bit, likely I suppose, in order to fit somebody’s vision of more “modern” lyrics.
As time went on, with Vietnam and Civil Rights in the news, churches became progressively more and more conflicted over all sorts of issues, and that discussion and division process would eventually splinter congregations, to the point that many churches, including that one, would eventually close.
Back then, things seemed to be so much less complicated, at least through a kid’s eyes, but I digress here.
Anyway, as tradition had it, we kids sang “For the Beauty of the Earth”, normally either on a springtime morning close to Easter, or also, near Thanksgiving. Last time we did it, to my memory, was on a November Sunday, right after the Friday assassination of President John Kennedy in 1963. It was very emotional for us, but somehow we got through it. Then, we came out of church and, under the big tree by the church walkway, we heard from the custodian that the man who some thought to have killed President Kennedy had himself been shot that morning.
Dad and Mom had once taken me down to the end of our street to see President Kennedy, as he passed through Lakewood. I even have his autograph, so yes, that was one tough weekend to sing “For the Beauty of the Earth”.
I was in Scouts too, when Mr. Kennedy was president. He’d asked us all to roll up our sleeves and see what we could do for our country. Between the paper drives and service projects, I guess we all thought of ourselves as being “Kennedy Scouts”. Even though Scouts was not supposed to be a political organization, (and it was not one) we WERE Kennedy Scouts, make no mistake about it. We wore our uniforms with pride too; to church, to school, to bed, everywhere…at least, for awhile…
We learned many lessons as children, did we not? These were just a few more of those, I suppose, but I remember those lessons to this day, and I guess that’s all that matters, for the purpose of this reflection.
Anyway, a few years later, on 22 April, 1970, they decided to create “Earth Day” to remember our planet, and of course, that old 1864 hymn experienced yet another revival at that time, sometimes with again-updated lyrics.
That particular date would end up having a special significance to me for another reason, as well.
At the time, I was in my second year of college and was busy being transformed by my interest in Political Science and in obtaining more rights for marginalized people everywhere. I became quite the activist back then, particularly when I was informed that having a speech impediment, I would likely not be considered for admission into a college of education. (Back then, teachers and attorneys were not supposed to have speech difficulties. I ended up successfully fighting for the right to be admitted to my chosen field of education, but that’s another story and again, I digress here.)
April 22nd has a special meaning for me for quite another reason. Back then, they had started to sell P.O.W.-M.I.A. bracelets bearing the name of a man who had been lost in the Vietnam conflict (No one was yet prepared to call it a war) At one time, there were over 2,500 such men who were either considered missing, or were kept as prisoners of war over there. They were sometimes treated as war criminals if they were captured, since technically there was no “war” officially declared.
A friend presented me with such a steel bracelet, containing the name of a man who had been lost on April 22nd, 1970, the same day that the first Earth Day had been declared. If you received one of those bracelets, the tradition was that you would wear it until your man’s fate was known. For my part, I would wear my bracelet faithfully for years. Finally, the government claimed to have found remains when they found the wrecked aircraft, but even then, controversy erupted. Seems that the only things the government found were a few bone bits around the wreckage. There had been an eyewitness account of a number of parachutes leaving that plane, and it was believed that “my” man had indeed exited the aircraft, so he likely could not have been among those bone bits. The government however, buried all found fragment remains in Arlington under a single stone with the aircraft crew’s names listed, along with the concerns of several of the families, so even now, I'm not sure whether anyone is entirely certain who lies buried under that stone. I guess that’s how “war” is, even if no one called it that.
So, as April 22nd approaches, I think both of the man on my band, and of beautiful Earth Day. Some years ago, I wrote the song “Band of a Man” for the POW-MIA movement that my Lakewood buddy, and former bandmate (and Vietnam veteran) Mark” Shane” Phillips recorded. We performed the song on numerous other occasions as a tribute to those who have never returned from over there.
Today, on this Easter weekend Saturday morning, I cued up “For the Beauty of the Earth” again on YouTube, and remembered…
That’s the thing about getting older, and having older memories.
Seems you’re either dreaming, or remembering stuff all the time.
I thought about singing for Dad, and for God, while wearing that nice green choir robe, and all those other Lakewood childhood memories too. I thought about my acting-out friend and his way cool bass guitar. I thought about that now-closed church, and seeing Kennedy, and wearing my Scout uniform, and being ostracized for my voice, and going off to college, and fighting for my rights, and then I thought about Mark leaving our Lakewood Rock band SKIE to go off to fight in Vietnam, and I thought about what he was like when he came back home, and I thought about my battered steel bracelet, and I thought about Tom, who never did come home. Of course too, I thought about Earth Day, and all of the “hopes and dreams” that went along with all that hype. I thought about what we have done to the earth and to ourselves, even after that first Earth Day…
You know, the earth is supposedly so much cleaner and quieter now without all that pollution and mining and industrial stuff that’s been going on. Now that the virus stopped everything, people are looking around and starting to understand just how precious and fragile this planet is, how connected we are, and how precious and fragile life is too. Wonder how long they’ll remember all of this?
Wonder if they still remember President Kennedy? Scouts? Church? The P.O.W.-M.I.A.’s? Or “For the Beauty of the Earth”?
Sheesh, I’m almost afraid to go to bed tonight. It promises to be a long night for dreaming…
UPDATE: Now, Easter morning has arrived…Can’t really say why, but I slept like a log.
Maybe it’s the neighborhood we live together in...
…but again, I digress here.
Back to the banjo…
