Last evening, the beginning of Memorial Day weekend, I found myself at Arlington National Cemetery touring with 8th-graders from Ohio.
It was 6pm sharp, we were at the Tomb of the Unknowns, and the changing of the guard was underway.
It being the day that it was, a sentinel was in charge rather than a sergeant, proving that on that Friday, at least, all bosses leave work early.
There were several hundred in attendance, a rapt and hushed crowd.
I turned away from them and beheld the serene majesty of this special place.
A slight breeze rippled the flags at the amphitheater as it rustled the leaves on the trees.
The evening sun swept the lawn and glinted off the memorial stones in the distance.
This is a place of memory and sacrifice most powerful in its solitude.
In its stillness a haven of quiet rest and repose for those who served.
