Somerset —  

There are only so many things which can be said by someone who has been asked to speak at a Memorial Day service held in a national cemetery. Those who have spoken during Mill Springs National Cemetery’s annual Memorial Day ceremony in years past have reminded us to thank those veterans who still walk among us. They’ve told the story of how Memorial Day — in earlier times known as Decoration Day — came to be. They’ve reminded us to exercise our rights, to enjoy our freedoms — and, of course, they’ve told us that we owe all these freedoms to the men and women who have given their lives fighting for our country.

As any good church-goer will tell you, some messages are worth repeating — and that is certainly the case for the words repeated each year during ceremonies such as the one held at Mill Springs yesterday.

We should be reminded to show our gratitude to our veterans. As I overheard one World War II veteran saying following yesterday’s ceremony, his fellow servicemen are dying at an average of about 2,000 per day now. If you haven’t taken the time to talk with a WWII veteran, find one and enjoy some conversation before it’s too late.

And our young people need to be reminded of the significance of Memorial Day. We need them to carry on traditions like the one that’s been held at the Mill Springs National Cemetery for generations.

On a similar note, this year, the Somerset Police Department began what will hopefully become a new tradition — holding a Memorial Day service at the Somerset Cemetery to honor their fellow officers who are buried there.

I suspect there’s a large group of younger Pulaski Countians who have never considered attending a Memorial Day service at Mill Springs or anywhere else. Most of the nation’s major wars had ended by the time we became old enough to understand them. We didn’t get front row seats to the horrors of Pearl Harbor, Normandy, or Iwo Jima. The stories we hear from our relatives of those dreadful days when news of a loved one’s demise came by telegram are surreal. Our reasons to celebrate Memorial Day come more from the desire to swim in the lake, eat grilled steaks, and shoot off firecrackers than from a true appreciation for those who gave their lives for our freedom.

As an individual who represents this “younger” group, let me encourage my peers to take the time to visit Mill Springs — even if it’s not during a Memorial Day ceremony.

Mark Woods, who spoke during yesterday’s event, told the crowd gathered that those who lie beneath the white headstones at Mill Springs have “compelling stories to tell.” This is true of the Mill Springs National Cemetery — and of any cemetery. I have witnessed this firsthand.

Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, the stories of some of those who have died — during a war or otherwise — can be told. This is especially true of military personnel, who likely have been mentioned in old newspaper articles or on websites dedicated to certain military divisions.

While passing through the Mill Springs National Cemetery recently, the headstone of one young man stood out to me. When I got home, I searched for his name online. As it turns out, Ernest George Kuzee was one of the first Pulaski County casualties of the bombing at Pearl Harbor.

A December 18, 1941, edition of the Somerset Journal reads: “Mr. and Mrs. Walter Kuzee of Camp Ground received a telegram Tuesday morning from the U.S. Navy advising them that their son, Ernest G. Kuzee, 19, had been injured. The message did not state details of his injury.” A January 1, 1942, edition tells the rest of the story: “Two Pulaskians have been killed in action in the Pacific War Zone, it was learned here this week. The boys, each of them a seaman first class in the U.S. Navy, are Ernest George Kuzee, 19, and Norman Lee Garland, 28. These are the county’s first two reported casualties of the war. ...”

Ernest Kuzee had been a student at both Somerset High School and Nancy High School. He dropped out of school to attempt to enlist in the Navy, and was rejected several times because of his weight before he was finally accepted on Dec. 26, 1940.

You don’t have to have a heart full of patriotism to learn something when you visit a cemetery. You don’t have to have a family member buried there. You just have to be human — and to be a little curious about the events which occurred between the dates engraved on each headstone.

Some were taken too soon. Ernest Kuzee died just shy of his 20th birthday. Others lived long lives, and were able to tell their children and grandchildren about their experiences. Some died honorable deaths. Others took their own lives because they felt they couldn’t handle the pressures that came their way.

No matter how they died or how long they lived, however, they all have one thing in common: They were all loved. Ernest Kuzee was a son and a brother. Others were parents, spouses, grandparents — or maybe, simply, fishing buddies — of someone who was left behind to mourn them.

Visit a military cemetery. Take some time to read the names of those who are buried there. Do some math. Notice how young some soldiers were when they died. See if you can learn anything about their lives. And, while you’re there, leaning over the grave of a soldier who has most likely been forgotten through the years, try whispering a few words of gratitude ... if not for their years of service to our country, then for being willing to give up the greatest gift — life — for something in which they believed.