Memorial Day in our neighborhood

Spent an interesting Memorial Day afternoon. We had a downpour in the morning, including lots of hail, as my wife and I drove Jed to the airport for his trip to D.C. and summer internship training before he heads to Honduras. On the way back, we stopped at Memory Grove in Salt Lake City to pay respects at the memorials to war dead (including my uncle Grant who was shot down in Korea), then visited graves of other family members, and went for a late lunch.

We arrived home and were just settling down for a nice afternoon nap (we are feeling our over-40-ness) when the phone rang. It was a neighbor calling to see if anyone were available to help another neighbor whose basement had flooded. Jed was on his way to D.C. and David was at a movie with his cousins. So I put my shoes back on and went over. Other calls went out, and within minutes, nearly 20 people were there helping move soggy boxes out of the flooded rooms and up onto plastic sheets to be sorted, mopping up the muddy floors, and helping do what needed doing. One neighbor brought a wet vac to get up most of the water from floors, and we donated a couple of fans to dry out the carpets. Within a couple of hours, what needed to be done was done. No fanfare. Just neighbors helping neighbors.

For an afternoon, in our neighborhood, we shared a tiny bit of the American spirit and almost unwittingly honored those who died protecting our way of life.