Fallen Soldiers

     Memorial Day weekend is a wonderful time to get outdoors or relax. Some may have BBQ’d fished, hiked or even just hung out and watched some movies. We spent the weekend at a nearby lake and had quality time with family and friends. Fishing was successful – with a nice rainbow to cap off the trip. We ate good food and got a little sun. One night, I was fishing off the back end of the boat when I heard Mama B ask the littles if they knew why we celebrated Memorial Day. The small ones didn’t know right away, but the two older ones answered immediately. My Spunky girl said we have the holiday to remember fallen officers. Bubba agreed and acknowledged it was a time to reflect on the sacrifice of those who fight for our freedom. It was a proud moment for this dad. I was glad they knew why we have the holiday and didn’t just say, “Yeah, it’s a three day weekend.” Memorial Day started after the American Civil War. The north celebrated on one day and the South on another. Eventually the government decided to make the last Monday of May a day to remember all fallen military personnel.   

     During the week leading up to Memorial Day, there were plenty of posts on social media reminding people the true meaning of Memorial Day. There was some shaming people that just think about the three day weekend. There were posts about family members that served and died for our great country. Needless to say, it was on my mind all week and I was able to grow more of an appreciation for our brothers and sisters in arms. For a moment, I felt a little guilty having made plans to go fishing, boating and camping. Was I truly honoring those who fought so hard to allow these freedoms? Was I only thinking of myself? I finally came to the conclusion that I wasn’t dishonoring them. I was doing the things the fallen would have done if they were with their families. It made me appreciate the love I have for my family and the opportunities I have to be in God’s country. I prayed and thanked God for their sacrifice. It will always be on my mind this time of year as we reflect on those that paid the ultimate price for me and my family to enjoy time together. Here at 3EM, we want to give thanks to every service member both present and past. Thank you. I cannot express enough how much it means to us that we are able to live in a country where we can spend our time on what matters most – at the Home Place and with Family.

-Long Rifle

Opening Day

     The old man always called it “cabin fever”. He wasn’t referring to the claustrophobic feeling that comes from being cooped up during a long Wyoming winter. He never allowed that to coop us up very much anyway. He was talking about that deep-seated yearning to be in his home place – the cabin he helped build from trees that were cut right there in his own country. He wanted to sit by the fire and drink his coffee in the morning. He wanted to wear his disreputable old hat and fish until it was dark and eat crisp-fried brook trout. He wanted to be alone with his family.
     And so it was that we would wait with ever-increasing anticipation for the big day. Memorial Day weekend was usually when his internal alarm rang and he simply couldn’t stay away any longer. Sometimes we’d be able to drive to the cabin, sometimes we’d have to snowshoe in a couple of miles. But the old man was going to the cabin, come hell or high snowdrifts. There are places where Memorial Day is the first holiday of summer. Our place at 9,000 feet elevation in western Wyoming isn’t one of them. There, it’s the last holiday of winter. 

     Depending on the year, we might go with spring bear hunting gear or spring fishing gear, but we went. Sometimes we got the pickup stuck in the snow, and sometimes we got it stuck in the mud, but we went. He was like some high country bird that picked up and left on the last day of elk season and wintered in the sagebrush along the Green River, but just couldn’t stay there once the vernal equinox had passed. So we’d head out, with tire chains and tow chain, shovel and two spare tires – ready to take on whatever obstacles stood in our way.
     Now, more than a half century later, here we are again. Some things have changed. Solar-powered electricity runs the lights now and we don’t have to pump up the Coleman lanterns. There’s a woodstove insert that puts out more heat than the old fireplace ever did. And we’ve got cell phones to call someone to come get us if we get stuck. But the feeling hasn’t changed a bit. We’re still anxious to get to the home place.
     Tomorrow, Grandma and I will be packing the truck and the trailer with all the stuff that came down the mountain last fall to be cleaned and stored. We’ll be packing up the food staples that need to be replenished. And we’ll have a load. It’s a lot of stuff, and it’s a lot of work. But somehow, we end up being the opening day crew every year. That’s OK, at least for now. We like being the first ones in. And like the old man, we’ll sit by the fire and drink our hot chocolate. I’ll wear my disreputable old hat. And we’ll be alone together. Just us and the memories.

-Grandpa