Photo 168 - 300 Flags

It was the weekend and I was searching for something to do with Short Person. I didn't want to sit around the house watching movies, and I didn't want to drive 20 minutes back the way we came (from swimming) to go paint or to the store, so I was really stuck looking for something local. In this small town, there's not much of that. As LJS, Shortie, and I drove home from running morning errands I glanced down a street where there is an old cemetery and thought that it would be interesting to go look at the gravestones. Then, inspiration struck. Short Person and I could go on a photo adventure.

I approached the subject in the car with her and we decided that we'd go and pick up a disposable camera and check out a few places. So, after going home and dropping off Daddy and picking up our coat, we headed out the door. First stop on the list, after getting the camera and coffee, was the little air field.

There wasn't much going on there, and even though vehicles were parked in the parking lot, a tour through the lobby showed that the place was essentially deserted, so we headed outside. Overhead, there was a helicopter. I think the person flying must have been doing some sort of training because the copter would circle around, approach the runway, lower and hover about ten feet from the ground and then repeat the process. Short Person loved it and, if I had let her, would have taken the entire roll of film on that one thing. Thank goodness for manual film advance features.

When we had gotten enough airport exploration done, we headed to the cemetery. I had forgotten up to that point that it was Memorial Day weekend. Once I saw the flags out, I knew it would be a good chance to also teach Short Person a few things. We parked the car, grabbed out cameras, and began walking around looking at the different markers. It seemed that every turn we took had a flag marking a grave site.

We walked along and I'd read the headstone to her if there was a war notation and point out the little metal noting a veteran. We did this until she learned to do it herself. I watched as she took photos of different things, wondering at her choices and asking her why she'd take a picture of something. All in all, it was a nice afternoon and she enjoyed taking the pictures.

Our last stop was at Memorial Park where I showed her the monument erected to honor those men from Newberg that had died during the various wars. It surprised me while we were walking among the graves that most of the men and women buried there that had fought in the war had also gone on to live long lives. The average age of death was 80 years old. In fact, I only found one marker of someone that had died during the war as a cause of the war. World War I. As we were walking back to our car, an old-timer walked by us and commented about the number of flags. He said there were 300 flags.

So, in comparison to the 300 flags, very few who are buried there are named on this monument.

Once we finished, we turned the camera in to get developed. But, there was one photo I snapped that I needed to take home and look up. It was a marker of someone that had died as a result of lynching in the Centralia Massacre. Having never heard of the Centralia Massacre, my curiosity was sparked and I wanted to remember to look it up.

It turns out that there is a bit of history to this particular man. Sad history. If you are interested, here is a link to read about it. The Centralia Massacre.