Today is Memorial Day. It became a holiday after the Civil War, to honor the Union and Confederate soldiers who had died in battle, and after World War I it was extended to honor all United States soldiers who died in any war. Union general John Logan chose the 30th specifically because it was not the anniversary of any battle. But in 1968, Congress's Uniform Holidays Act severed the link between Memorial Day and the original date, changing it instead to "the last Monday in May" to allow for a three-day weekend. Some opposed the switch, including the Veterans of Foreign Wars and Hawaii Senator Daniel Inouye; they believe people have lost sight of the original meaning of the holiday, a day for reconciliation and honor. It has lately become a holiday for families to remember anyone they have lost (veteran or otherwise), to lay flowers at gravesites, and, in later years, barbecue, shop, and watch the Indianapolis 500. For those unable to travel to the graves of their loved ones, especially now during COVID-19, there are websites like FindAGrave.com, where one can create a cyber-monument and leave a "virtual" note or bouquet.
Some choose to visit the grave of a favorite author. Ernest Hemingway served in the Red Cross during World War I and his grave, in the Municipal Cemetery, is one of the main tourist attractions of Ketchum, Idaho, where he was living at the time of his suicide in 1961. Fans leave bottles of liquor, and pennies, as though Papa could grant their wishes.
Scott Fitzgerald once wrote: "I wouldn't mind a bit if in a few years Zelda and I could snuggle up together under a stone in some graveyard. That is really a happy thought, and not melancholy at all." He's buried in Rockville, Maryland, at St. Mary's Cemetery. As a nonpracticing Catholic, he was originally denied burial in the church graveyard, but his daughter, Scottie, appealed the diocese's decision, and his — and Zelda's — remains were moved from Rockville Union Cemetery in 1975. Their graves are occasionally adorned with packs of cigarettes, martini glasses, and gin bottles alongside the flowers.
John Keats was buried in Rome, and he wrote his own epitaph as he lay dying of tuberculosis. It reads, "Here lies One Whose Name was Writ on Water," and he wanted that line to be the only engraving on his nameless stone. He was disheartened by harsh criticism of his "Endymion," or so his friends Joseph Severn and Charles Brown believed, and so they added the following to his monument: "This Grave contains all that was mortal of a YOUNG ENGLISH POET who on his Death Bed, in the Bitterness of his heart, at the Malicious Power of his enemies, desired these words to be Engraven on his Tomb Stone." Oscar Wilde was so taken with Keats and his final resting place that he wrote an essay — "The Tomb of Keats" — and a sonnet — "The Grave of Keats" — about it. "Thy name was writ in water — it shall stand: And tears like mine will keep thy memory green," wrote Wilde.
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