Taps and lights out
I remember (at least a little) when Taps was played during the funeral proceedings for President Kennedy. But I didn’t remember the bugler’s clinkers during the minute long song. Not until I looked at old video footage. And, of course, people feel the need to make fun of the guy for “missing” notes. But it was a cold day, which is extremely tough on brass instruments. And probably more than just a little pressure to play a farewell song for an assassinated president.
Taps for soldiers is one thing, but…
As I’m writing this, it’s Memorial Day 2020. And American patriots are taking time to remember all those soldiers who died fighting for our freedoms. I’m certainly grateful for their supreme sacrifices. Because they helped ensure the rest of us could live our lives doing what we choose to do. Like writing words and music and rhymes and reasons.
Here, in America, we’ve been able to live and thrive, for generations, because of freedom. Liberty. And even love for our neighbors. But it’s beginning to look like Taps will be played for our country much sooner than previous generations would have imagined. And the trouble is…there might not be any freedom-loving patriot left to play the song when that time comes.
But I could be (and I hope I am) wrong.
Maybe lovers of life and liberty will soon say, “Enough of this shameful behavior, America. It’s time to water our roots in our God-given rights again. And it’s time to prune off the dead branches of selfishness, socialism, and superstition.”
Yeah, that would be cool to see. But I’m not holding my breath.
And just in case you’d like to put some words to the music next time you listen to Taps…
Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.
Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.
Thanks and praise, for our days,
‘Neath the sun, ‘neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.
Sun has set, shadows come,
Time has fled, Scouts must go to their beds
Always true to the promise that they made.
While the light fades from sight,
And the stars gleaming rays softly send,
To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend. ~Horace Lorenzo Trim
Grab some Merch
Or how about some music for kids