Memorial Day 2019
by Tom Timberman
Monday, May 27, is Memorial Day, a day of both profound pride and deep sorrow for the many Americans who have lost family members wearing the military uniforms of the United States.
The American tradition of a special day for decorating graves in honor of fallen soldiers started during the American Civil War. National grief generated by the unimaginable death toll of the Civil War (650-700,000) drove mourning communities across America to take action soon after the end of the war in 1865. People wanted to be together and remember and honor those who would never return. They marched, sang, wept, prayed and laid flowers on too many graves. Then, it was then called “Decoration Day.” The first large, coordinated, day of remembrance—complete with parades and speeches—was probably the one organized by African Americans, including many freed-slaves, held on May 1, 1865, in Charleston, SC.
Men and women serving in the US military are still dying or returning home physically or emotionally wounded. Sadness and gratitude is the order of Memorial Day, but in small towns and large cities, communities by and large think of it as the reason for a three-day weekend with honoring and decorating left to families and veterans’ organizations.
In one small town on Maryland’s Eastern Shore that is not the case. Recently, two friends, neighbors and colleagues of ours in Chestertown, Susan Flanagan and Michael McDowell, lost their 24-year-old son, Conor. A first lieutenant in the Marine Corps and recently engaged, he was killed in a freak training accident. Unless we’ve personally experienced the sudden death of a child, it’s impossible to understand how deep the loss penetrates and how much it hurts.
Michael McDowell wrote an eloquent tribute to his son Conor, which he and his wife have allowed us to print. For the time it takes to read, you will share briefly in the true meaning of Memorial Day.
A Remembrance of Conor McDowell
by Michael McDowell
Hugh Conor McDowell (March 11, 1995-May 9, 2019). 1st Lieutenant United States Marine Corps, Light Armored Reconnaissance, Camp Pendleton, California.
Our beloved and only child was killed yesterday in a bizarre accident on maneuvers, leading his new platoon. The light armored tank which contains 6 enlisted Marines and one officer, toppled over, and Conor was crushed underneath. He died en route to hospital.
Conor was due to announce his engagement and marriage to the love of his life, Kathleen Bourque, a beautiful, tall, slender, accomplished psychology graduate headed for a PhD. They were deeply in love after a whirlwind romance which began in North Carolina in July of last year, and settled in an apartment near the ocean outside San Diego, with their dog Ruthie and cats Missy and Max.
Susan, my wife and I, loved Kathleen, having hosted her during Thanksgiving and over Christmas. She is a wonderful, warm, steady person and adored our son, equally. Conor was a warrior, like my father in the Royal Ulster Rifles in the Western Desert, Sicily, and Italy in World War Two. Sadly, they never met but Conor felt as if he knew him.
Conor, since he was a small boy, wanted to be a soldier, and later, a Marine. He excelled. He read broadly and was intellectually curious, and was physically outstanding—slim, fit, six feet plus, and sunny and passionate in personality. He was above all a LEADER and majored in history, minoring in French, at The Citadel, the historic military college in Charleston, South Carolina. Junior cadets, while I served on the college Advisory Board, would come up to me and tell me how much Conor had helped them and encouraged them, while holding them to a high standard. He helped and looked out for young women, minorities, etc. There was not a bigoted bone in his body. Conor graduated from The Citadel in May 2017 and was Provost Marshal of 1st Battalion and in Alpha Company.
He grew up on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC, until he was 3 and then we moved to Chevy Chase, on the DC side, where he went to Lafayette Elementary, and later Deal Junior High, both public schools. He chose St. John’s College High School, near us, the historic Catholic French Christian Brothers school, which had a crack Army ROTC unit. Conor in his senior year became Command Sergeant Major of the unit. He chose The Citadel because it graduated a huge number of Marine officers and had a rigorous physical and academic regime.
There is a massive hole in our hearts and there will be for the rest of our lives. He was our beloved only child, in whom we were well pleased. We hope to meet again with our son in some way at some time as we pass on, as he has, at so young an age, and with so much of life ahead of him.
Title image: Pond at Pickering Creek Audubon Center, Talbot Co. Photo: Jan Plotczyk