Thursday, June 12
The crew waits patiently for me to write a blog post. We’re in the Perfect Tow Vehicle parked in a shady spot along the road near I-15 on the outskirts of Nephi, Utah. Finally, I finish!
“Okay, let’s take a look at this town.”
As I enter Nephi a flash of colors catches my eye.
Wow! What a gorgeous rose garden!
I park the PTV in the shade at the curb.
“I’ll be right back. I have to see this.”
As I step on the carpet of green grass, I’m awed by the many varieties of roses, their blooms in full display in the noonday sun.
I drift around the flower beds, kneeling to take photos.
Gosh, they’re beautiful!
I wonder what that building is. This is a memorial garden of some sort. It’s obviously well-tended. The design is lovely.
I make my way to the far side of the garden.
I walk through an arch and approach a war memorial.
This is the Juab County Veterans Memorial. Later I read a description online:
“When its mesmerizing array of multicolored roses is in full bloom, the rose garden on the southwest corner of 100 E and 100 N draws the eye and brightens the neighboring Veterans Memorial. Renovated and rededicated on September 11, 2008 as a public service project of the Nephi Lions Club, the memorial bears upon its marble surfaces the Pledge of Allegiance and the names of thousands of Juab County Veterans who exemplified outstanding patriotism.”
I walk around the granite slabs . . . hundreds and hundreds of names . . . mostly young men who grew up in this peaceful valley along with their siblings, fresh-faced boys, a few girls . . .
The same family name over and over . . . brothers? cousins? fathers? sons? All from this one county.
I imagine a young man, barely more than a boy, exploring the canyon with his buddy, fishing the creeks, driving with his girl in his first car between lush fields, walking these same streets . . . Not one, but hundreds, each one an individual with dreams and plans . . .
Probably most of those names are Mormon families, “proud to be an American.”
I leave the memorial section and return to the rose garden.
Whereas before I was taken with the beauty of the roses, now it pierces my heart and my eyes fill with tears.
Each rose has a voice. “I was young.” “I was alive.” I love you, Mom.” “Remember me.”
If you ever come through this way during the season of roses . . .maybe zipping north or south on Interstate 15, I encourage you to take a detour into Nephi.
The memorial is easy to find. Take the time to pause, read the names, and listen to the roses.
rvsue
NOTE: This post is off the topic of RVing and boondocking and dogs being cute. Forgive me for drifting away from the usual topics. I want a record of this experience.
AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AMAZON FROM MY BLOG.
