When Commander Michael Lamoureux of American Legion Post 280 introduced the guest speaker on May 25 for the 2015 Memorial Day ceremony in Mattapoisett, he noted that the biography U.S. Army Sergeant Edward Sweeney, Jr. submitted for the event program was a short one. At age 38, he enlisted in the U.S. Army National Guard and was eventually deployed to and stationed in Afghanistan from 2012-2013. Sgt. Sweeney now lives in Mattapoisett with his wife, Cheryl, and their children.

After the short introduction, Lamoureux supposed Sweeney was a humble man, possibly of few words. Sweeney’s words were few, but they were poignant, stirring the emotions of guests in the program and onlookers in attendance gathered in front of the Mattapoisett Library.

There are only two things that scare him, said Sweeney. They are spiders and speaking in public. “And this is a first for me,” Sweeney said, shaking off the nerves with a few chuckles from the crowd.

He has been home from Afghanistan for two years now, “But things are still pretty fresh.” Sweeney continued, “But this day isn’t about me.” It’s about the warriors who have gone before him, he said.

“Today is about honoring and remembering those who never came home.” Sweeney said he and the veterans seated behind him and all those who enlist, all sign the same check made out to the United States of America “in the amount of and including our lives.”

“[And some of them] cashed that check in the name of freedom,” said Sweeney. He then began reading the names of local fallen heroes, beginning with Marine Lance Corporal Matthew Rodriguez who was killed in Afghanistan in December 2013. Sweeney then listed a number of names of those killed in action from the South Coast area.

“I could stand here all day and list the names of our fallen comrades,” Sweeney said.

Sweeney encouraged those in attendance to go home afterwards to enjoy a cookout, a barbeque with friends, any way they like and not to feel guilty in anyway about celebrating on Memorial Day.

“Just enjoy it. It’s what we fought for and what we died for,” Sweeney said. “Don’t ever feel guilty…. Because that’s what the American life is and that’s what we’ll fight to protect.”

As Sweeney paused, the Center School clock tower bell solemnly rang twice, and everyone listened in silence.

“There are two powers that have offered to die for you,” said Sweeney just before concluding his speech. “One of them is Jesus Christ. The other is the American soldier.”

Lamoureux and Veterans Agent Barry Dunham presented Sweeney with a certificate of appreciation before concluding with the retiring of the colors, the laying of the wreaths on the War Memorials, and the parade over to Cushing Cemetery.

During the ceremony, Representative William Straus also delivered a speech recognizing the missing presence of Evelyn Pursley, who served at the American Legion Post 280 for many decades and died on August 24, 2014 at the age of 92.

“It’s something to get over that she couldn’t be with us,” said Straus, “and we feel that loss.”

Board of Selectmen Chairman Jordan Collyer in his speech stressed the importance of supporting veterans’ services such as the American Legion whose membership dwindles year after year.

“As membership dwindles … their support dwindles,” said Collyer. “The Legion is under a lot of stress…” The Legion, he reminded guests, is what organizes community events such as the Memorial Day ceremony. “It’s getting tougher and tougher to keep things going.”

Denham echoed those sentiments in his address to guests, saying the Legion is having a hard time trying to keep its doors open. Denham, who recently stepped into the Vets Agent for the Town of Marion – regionalizing the three Vets Services Offices – said last October there was only one veteran in Marion receiving benefits, much lower than the seven in Rochester and the 12 in Mattapoisett.

“Marion is now from one to eight people,” said Denham. There were seven vets in Marion that should have been collecting veterans’ benefits, but were not due to a lack of awareness of the program.

Denham stressed the importance of maintaining “strong vets agencies like the Legion.”

Old Rochester Regional Junior High School student Carly O’ Connell recited President Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address as the sun came in and out from behind the clouds on the bright breezy afternoon.

Lamoureux, although having heard the Gettysburg Address many times, was still moved by the President’s words.

“Abe Lincoln,” said Lamoureux, who paused a moment with emotion. “He really said it all. Short, concise.”

Unfortunately, due to some problems with the logistics of the morning, transportation was unavailable to bring in the New Bedford JROTC Battalion to Mattapoisett for the retiring of the colors. Lamoureux said none of the usual drivers were available that morning to pick up the JROTC, so Lamoureux turned to the Mattapoisett Police Department and asked for its assistance.

“And I didn’t even have to bend my knee because they jumped at the chance to carry the colors,” said Lamoureux.

By Jean Perry

The Rochester Memorial Day Boat Race started as a 4-H project back in 1934 headed by Jim Hartley, when participants fashioned “canoes” from pine boards and decided it would be a fun idea to start a new boat race tradition.

A few things have changed since then, including the addition of some ingenious hand-crafted and painted boats, and even a pirate thrown in for fun. But the race itself and the sentiment of tradition behind it remain unchanged – the Rochester Memorial Day Boat Race continues as a family ritual for many, and oftentimes a right of passage for the next generation of Rochester families, teaching a lesson or two about endurance, competition, teamwork, and the ‘keep paddling’ outlook on life.

This year brings a new three-time champion team to the history of the boat race, with Dan Lawrence and Bill Watling III taking first place in the Open Division for three consecutive years. They received their Jim Hartley trophy the night of the race during an awards ceremony in the Rochester Memorial School gymnasium. The trophy is in Hartley’s memory, the founder of the boat race. The last recipients of the Jim Hartley trophy were Sean Shaw and C.J. Hedges IV, winning the three-year trophy four times for 12 consecutive wins.

Trophies are given to each contestant of the teams that come in first, second, and third place in each division.

There is also the distinct honor of the Old Man River Award, given to the oldest participant in the boat race who finishes the race. The award can only be received once, even though they may be the oldest person in the race in subsequent years.

This year’s Old Man River award went to James Ziobro, age 60. The first Old Man River trophy was awarded back in 1979 in memory of Peter Balzarini, the official starter who fired the starting gun for many years.

Some fun facts about the 2015 race: There were 66 teams competing in this year’s race. The shortest racer was 4 feet tall, the tallest 6’6’’. The youngest was six years old, and the oldest 61, according to Race Coordinator Art Benner. The lightest participant weighed 65 pounds, the heaviest 255 pounds.

Most of the racers were from Rochester with 71 Rochester residents, and Mattapoisett came in second with 26. The participants who live farthest away this year are from Ecuador. There were also some contestants from Pennsylvania, New Hampshire, and Connecticut.

The course, which has been known to sink or break a few boats in half, could have been worse, according to Benner. The water levels rose slightly from the previous week after a bit of rain.

“It was kind of a struggle (this year),” said Benner. “Not as much water, that’s ideal, but it was better than last week.”

This year‘s race was dedicated to Charles “Chuck” Gonneville in honor of the many years he committed to the running and organizing of the boat race. In the gymnasium at RMS, a large American flag, which will remain, hung on the wall in Gonneville’s honor. Gonneville was also a custodian at the school, as well as a firefighter. During the awards ceremony, an empty chair draped with his firefighter coat, his helmet, and a mop was on display in the background as a symbol of the importance his presence meant to many.

“He was always just thinking about the boat race,” said Benner. Benner said Gonneville would even schedule his vacations and schedule around the sign-ups for the race. ”He was always sitting at the door of the cafeteria selling tickets to the ham and bean supper.” Benner reminisced for a while about all the fun he used to have with Gonneville, and acknowledged his significant role in the race every year.

By Jean Perry

This morning, just now, the chorus of bird song rose above the sound of vehicles passing by the house, that steady stream of business on the way to conduct itself, its self-imposed importance and urgency pushing forward, stock-holder values must be preserved, and nothing else matters, except the birds’ song and its soothing quality – a balm, a tonic against pain, a moment of respite, a form of prayer.

Today will have a trajectory and I, mere mortal that I am, will presume I have some control. I will allow myself to believe that and smile at the oncoming faces. I will fake it till I make it and hear the birds throughout it all.

It’s important to pace oneself when staring down a long, dark rabbit hole wondering if it has a bottom, and once there will the way back up be lighted or impossible to find. At times like these, faith would help, but in my case I’ll draw on the collective wisdom from all who have passed before me. They will remind me – this, too, shall pass.

The Hindu belief system allows that staying perfectly still and just being present is sufficient to one’s survival and if the worst outcome should inevitably befall one, well, one’s oneness with the universe remains the goal. A little of that will go a long way with me today, but I’ll still worry, fret and probably lose a pound or two from being unable to swallow.

From my own experiences, I know without a shadow of a doubt that most problems will resolve and most outcomes will be acceptable and upon looking back, I’ll be reminded that anticipating the future was much more difficult than simply letting it happen. So, in this, the ability to “just be” could have helped. But not right now.

Right now, I struggle with the problems. I want to get my hands in there and fix everything, make it better, heal the sick and pay the debt. I want to be the righter of wrongs with the power of a goddess coupled with a bit of Wonder Woman. I want too much and will have to take what is given even should it be a bitter pill. I’ll be a grown up as mandated. I won’t show fear.

As a decisive person by nature, situations that have not drawn to a conclusion are quite unsettling. I want tomorrow today so I can know what the ending of the story is. I want to write the ending really and have it come out my way. I want control. The universe laughs. Who has control really? Isn’t it all random chaos? Oh, ego, how you fool the foolish.

By tonight, these thoughts will be no more, replaced by the day’s events as the future becomes the past and whatever will happen has happened and I get to process the results. Tonight, I’ll be that reporter in the back of the room silently observing and recording to the best of my ability other people’s realities and/or that grandmother in the concert hall proudly beaming at the younger generation, one I cannot protect against the future nor take the cup away.

Anxiety is an old coat well worn and full of holes, a patchwork of inherited visceral responses that is too big and too heavy to carry without help. So I’ll walk off as much nervous energy as possible and smile though my heart could be broken, but it isn’t right now so I’ll just carry on. What else can one do?

I’ve heard too many times some version of “we only get what we can carry.” That is crap for someone of as little faith as I own – yet I want to believe that so I shall stand straight, I will be brave, everything will be alright.

He said, “Give me courage.” Those were the most heart-rendering words Dad ever spoke and these spoken as he lay in a hospital bed, eyes closed, brain damaged, unable to discern day from night or reality from dream. That was his response to, “Dad, can I get you something?”

Dear Universe,

Please send me some courage.

Yours truly,

Marilou Newell

P.S. Dad, if you are in heaven, can you get me something? Please ask God to help us.

By Marilou Newell