I heard the rumble of thunder as thousands of motorcycles approached the capital on Saturday and I knew that it was Memorial Day weekend. Rolling Thunder was rolling into town from all points west.
Early on Sunday morning I went to an overlook and viewed hundreds of motorcyclists rolling into the District from their overnight perches nearby, preparatory to rolling up and down Pennsylvania Avenue all day in honor of the KIAs in our endless wars and in hope of reclaiming our hundreds of MIAs. It rolls by the Vietnam Wall which embodies the true cost of our nearly incessant conflicts.
There are members of my family who sacrificed for all of us in some of the wars, my father (the Pacific War), uncle Harry (Pacific War), Uncle Bill (Pacific War), Uncle Bob (Mediterranean War), Grandfather (North Atlantic in WWI) and brother (Beirut). Fortunately they all returned intact, at least physically.
On Memorial Day at noon I went for lunch at my usual spot. The food was good, the beer was delicious, and the company was nonexistent.
Maybe Father's Day. ;-)