I Wish Memorial Day Was One Day, Not Two
Americans Spend the Day in Two Very Different Ways
Don’t get me wrong—I love a backyard barbecue as much as anyone. I’m not here to knock burgers, hot dogs, pool parties, the Indy 500, or even mattress sales. Memorial Day weekend is, for many, the start of summer—and there’s nothing wrong with that. I spent Sunday in the pool with friends and family myself.
But I’ve always had a complicated relationship with how we talk about this holiday.
Each year, I hear “Happy Memorial Day” from friends, neighbors—even fellow veterans. And while I know it’s well-intentioned, something about it still catches me off guard. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s the word happy in front of a day created to honor those who fell in combat.
At the same time, I get it. Many of my military friends do celebrate the weekend—because they know it’s what their fallen brothers and sisters would’ve wanted. They raise a glass, crank up the music, and live life fully in their memory. That’s not disrespect. That’s remembrance—just in a different form.
Still, with all the noise of the weekend, it’s easy to forget what the day is really for. A fellow soldier recently sent a group of us a poem by Carl Sandburg that put it all in perspective. It says what I’ve been trying to express—better than I ever could:
Grass
Carl Sandburg, 1878–1967
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work—
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?
I am the grass.
Let me work.
It’s a powerful reminder that time has a way of softening edges and blurring details. But days like today ask us not to forget—not completely. Even if it’s just for a few minutes.
Before my 20 years in the Army, I didn’t grow up in a military household. But I still remember Memorial Day weekends when my dad would watch The Longest Day or The Big Red One. Later, I chose Saving Private Ryan as my own Memorial Day tradition. Each generation has its own way of remembering—Platoon, Restrepo, Band of Brothers. Sadly, America’s “forgotten war”—Korea—never got much in the way of popular culture. Perhaps it's been covered over by the grass.
But I’m looking forward to a new documentary, featuring a longtime friend of time, about the Black Knights of 1-5 CAV, a fellow 1st Cavalry Division unit deployed in Iraq while I was in Mosul. They endured some of the war’s most brutal chapters. As the filmmakers write:
“The narrative of 1-5 CAV, also known as the Black Knights, serves to honor the fallen, instill pride in the battalion’s veterans, garner appreciation from the general public, and inspire future leaders as they prepare for operations in an increasingly complex world.”
So no, I’m not here to second guess anyone’s weekend. But maybe, in between the pool and the party, we can find a moment to pause. A flag in the yard. A quiet reflection. A toast. A movie. A memory.
Whatever you choose to do this year, let’s do our part to remember—because the grass is already doing its work.
Take care,
Joseph
Joseph Kopser
Co-Founder of USTomorrow