I plan to attend Remembrance Day ceremonies tomorrow

In small towns like ours here in Summerland, throughout most of Canada Remembrance Day observance is a major event. Shortly before 11:00 tomorrow downtown at the Memorial Park cenotaph literally hundreds of folks of all ages will brave rain, wind, or occasionally snow, all bundled up to join the parade or watch from the sidelines—veterans, Royal Canadian Legion members, school students and teachers, guiders and scouts, local politicians, members of the business community, churches (including our new Legion Padre, the Rev. Anne Ellis from Summerland United Church) and many community groups—once a year, we remember those who died in the cause of King, and country, for freedom, and for justice.

It will be interesting to see if numbers of attendees are larger this year, as with freedom and justice named above, many including me are hugely concerned that the values of peace-building, compassion, and respect are threatened as the Trump administration begins to take shape. Pre-election claims were crystal clear: restrictions of basic freedoms and the use of force against migrants and even US citizens are promised during the 180-day blitzkrieg promised by the President-elect.

Canadians daily express gratitude that we are not Americans; we live north of the border; phew! Well, at a meeting of local church leaders yesterday I wondered to myself how we as a region might respond to an influx of refugees who find themselves unwelcome in the so-called “land of the free.” An hour south of where I live, the Town of Osoyoos is a border community. No fence yet; phew; but what next?

At tomorrow’s commemoration I will remember those I have known here over the years, people such as Bruce and his brother, Don,  who both worked behind enemy lines with the Special Operations Executive. Bruce once told me that he had seen things no human being should ever see. While he supported the church most of his life, he had huge, and I think understandable problems, with the concept of a loving God.

I think of the mother of a local fibre artist who as a young girl was incarcerated in a brutal Japanese internment camp on the island of Sumatra, Indonesia, a story told in the movie Paradise Road. Hers is a story of courage, community, and of beautiful music. Caution: Not for the faint of heart.

I think of Earl who was present at the liberation of Dachau Concentration Camp. He walked for days in a traumatized stupor before being rescued himself by allied forces.

Ken (Storey) flew hurricane fighters against the Luftwaffe after he abandoned his Quaker pacifism when a friend was killed when his London house was destroyed. I once told him that I could not imagine him doing battle in the air. He replied that he was usually trying to fly in the opposite direction.

All these people were part of life here in our little town of Summerland, each with their own memories (and in one case, nightmares) supported by their own determination to make freedom widespread and real for everyone, including themselves.

I wonder who possesses this same passion now. Few of us could endure such hardship and pain; none of those I mention above expected to walk their prospective roads. No, we are not at war, but conflict is coming; it is both predicted and promised. Who will however step up, and stand up, to the mean-spirited, self-centred, unjust, dictatorial body-politic fast appearing south of the border. As for what might happen north of our shared border, with Mexico and China, Canada is in Trump’s cross-hairs. Watch your back Canada.

For now, see you at the Cenotaph where we will remember, together.