SilverFoxWise

On a cold, wet, and windy November 11th morning in London, Ontario, it was clear to me there was only one place to be at 11:00.

While working as manager for 30 or so employees at a insurance company in town, I expanded the options, one year, so that – as an alternative to a moment of silence observed in the office – anyone interested was free to attend Remembrance Day ceremonies at the Victoria Park Cenotaph.

We were fortunate. With a downtown office, it was a 10-minute walk and an opportunity to join a much larger group of people – from London and elsewhere – honouring and remembering those who fought and paid for our freedoms. An insignificant business disruption considering the magnitude of sacrifice by those we were there to recognize. Based on the number of people gathering at the Cenotaph each year, many other employers clearly shared that view.

Being part of an off-site public ceremony, removed the distraction and noise of a usual day in the office. There were no ringing phones to interrupt the moment. It was an opportunity to truly pause, reflect, and with undivided attention, show gratitude with like-minded colleagues, and perfect strangers.

But, it’s not just the employees of downtown businesses that congregate at the Cenotaph in the November chill. The local side streets, for blocks away, were packed with cars circling in the hopes of finding a parking space somewhere in the vicinity of the park. Infant-toting parents, and others corralling toddlers, were also there in force. Students and young adults were huddled tightly under shared umbrellas. It seemed no demographic was unrepresented. And few of the attendees were about to let a little cold and rain send them off early.

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The ceremony was much like it is every year. It’s an agenda steeped in tradition and protocol. An exercise of consistency that solemnly seeks to recognize and appreciate. A reverent crowd with hats off and eyes fixed on the central ceremonial participants. A sea of poppies, today partially obscured by a canopy of coloured umbrellas. A small band providing music for the occasion, just before a single trumpet takes over to lead the way to a respectful silence by a vast assembly of the grateful – lost in private thought.

No words are spoken and the silence is broken only by flags flapping in the wind and rain bouncing off taut umbrellas. It’s a silent expression of gratitude for those who have fallen. A show of support and appreciation also to surviving men and women in uniform. Some there, tall and stoic. Some leaning on stronger arms, walkers or seated in wheelchairs. Then, the ceremonial trumpeting of The Last Post.

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The Cenotaph ceremony offers a venue of unambiguous purpose. A place for the respect and reverence appropriate to the occasion. A large group united in a common objective. A genuine and pure payment of respect.

As the numbers of veterans, and first-hand accounts from the World Wars diminish, it was encouraging to see the demographic mix that came to stand today in the cold and wet. For some, there were undoubtedly family connections, lost in the World Wars or the Korean War. For others, perhaps the loss of friends or relatives in more recent conflicts. For many, a much more distant connection to the experiences and losses associated with serving country. Still, I had the sense, no less grateful for what those sacrifices have meant to the lives and freedoms of their own families.

I got the idea today, from the diversity of attendees standing steadfastly in the rain, that the benefit enjoyed by many – far removed from the wars – is not taken for granted. That this day – and the culture of appreciation it reinforces – seems to have some strength moving forward. That there is a younger generation – perhaps familiar with some of the horrors of war from reports and images out of Iraq and Afghanistan – that gets the importance of the sacrifices and how they shaped the world we live in. Today was encouraging.

On this Remembrance Day, the trip to the Cenotaph was a little longer than in past years, but it was clear to me there was only one place to be at 11:00.

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