I put on my red shirt and blue pants, and my husband grabbed the small American flag from the porch. We donned our raincoats as it had unexpectedly started to drizzle just as we were getting ready to leave.
“Let’s go. It starts at 9. We don’t want to be late.”
My husband and I hopped in the car and headed off to find our place along the route. There was one car already parked in the lot that we had designated as a good spot. We waited. We could see the firehouse from where we were parked. The trucks were out front, buntings on. We saw a motorcycle with a flag head out of the station and head the other way. Are we in the right spot, I thought? I read the maps so carefully last night. Another truck pulled out and headed away from us. It’s not even 9:00 yet. Maybe they are just lining up.
Then we saw them. Two Nichols firetrucks. Lights on. Heading out of the lot and in our direction. We jumped out of the car, waving our arms and our little flag. They put the sirens on and honked the horns. They smiled (At least I think they smiled. It was hard to tell behind their masks.).
That was it. This year’s Memorial Day Parade in Nichols. We loved it. It said so much about our small community. These firefighters are all volunteers. They, along with the many soldiers who fought so bravely to preserve our freedoms, are fighting hard to keep us safe and free from the horrors of the current pandemic. Today, in some small way, we showed some gratitude to our heroes.