The last Memorial Day weekend in the Washington, D.C. area was also the last weekend I would spend with my aunt. Three years later she would be dead and I would be living in the mountains of Virginia going to school.
But, I remember that weekend and the sound of thunder. Hundreds of thousands of motorcycles rolling through the nation’s capital. I remember the juxtaposition of the bikers and the museums’ facades. My aunt would later send me an article about Rolling Thunder that I still have today in an album with my fuzzy pictures of the bikes. I was in awe at seventeen of all of it as I stood on the mall watching the procession.
Today, I stand in awe of everything our men and women in service have done for our country. I understand why all those bikes thunder to life in honor of them. Their sacrifice and the sacrifice of their families is unbelievable and appreciated; not just today and everyday. Thank you for my freedom.