Per tradition, the Oysterville Militia Firing Squad mustered to fire off the cannon.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

In Flanders fields.

Excerpt from “In Flanders Fields,” by John McCrae (1872-1918), published in December 1915, commemorating the lives lost during WWI.

Rolling into summer

Memorial Day weekend 2023 is already in our rear-view mirrors, but I think it’s worth extending its five minutes of fame. First, the World’s Longest Garage Sale seemed to go on without a hitch, even though skies were gray. I steered clear of all for sale signs this year as I’m in the Way-Too-Much-Stuff phase of my life. Though, at the same time, I did not want to put any of my precious junk out on sale tables either. Nope. I’ve come to think that the rewards are too slim for the efforts expended. Plus, you have to stand by while well-meaning pickers maul Aunt Betty’s favorite set of china or test out her signature rocker, and watch beloved books that have inexplicably lost their allure wilt in the sun.

Then there’s the money exchange. In earlier days I used to love the thrill of the dickering process. I wanted that intriguing antique or collectible object, and I also wanted it at a great price. Now, phhfftt! I’m on the other side of the street. If I’m ready to let something go, I’m good with Goodwill. In this case, time really is money. And as we get older, those hours we cannot get back start feeling more and more golden.

So, noted, Memorial Day weekend on the Peninsula is this strange combo of gateway to summer, card tables piled with miscellany, and salutes to fallen heroes.

Tributes to heroes

It’s this last — our remembrances of lives lost in war: dads, moms, sisters, brothers, uncles — that I’ll land on here, for that is what most lingers in my heart. Cris Wiegardt sent me a note a couple days before the weekend to invite me to a ceremony at the Ocean Park Cemetery, something I was completely unaware of. He wrote, “The Taylor OP Cemetery board will be serving coffee and treats Monday, Memorial Day morning at 9 at the entrance to the cemetery. The veterans do a short service and we’re done. This year as acting president I’ll be talking to the board about a new north fence. You’re welcome to join us. Peace, Cris.”

So, a little before 9 on a misty northend morning, I joined a gathering at the cemetery… with Cris, son Cody, and additional cemetery board members Joy Weber, treasurer; Marilyn Sheldon, secretary; and Bonnie Soule, registration. [Don Sheldon, president, is recovering from a stroke.] Everyone helped set up the table with homemade cookies, brownies, and coffee with all the trimmings. A small group of other folks drifted in, and then, gesturing at the line of cars pulling up to the gate, headlights shining, Joy said, “Here come the vets.”

I had no idea that a group of dedicated veterans begin every Memorial Day with an 8 a.m. rendezvous at the Surfside Cemetery. They conduct a short ceremony honoring their comrades, then make their way south covering all the cemeteries on the Peninsula: Oysterville, Ocean Park, Lone Fir and Ilwaco.

Cris explained to me that before his mother, Carol Wiegardt, died she expressed the desire to provide participating veterans with an Ocean Park thank you: “Since we are the halfway point, let’s give them some hot coffee.” It has become a tradition now ten years running. On this cool and overcast Peninsula morning, the vets, with honors pinned to their chests and lapels, filed out of their cars and up the road. It was a distinguished group of mostly elders. George Gana was the last to arrive, in jaunty red, white, and blue, his American Legion Post 48 Ilwaco button prominently displayed.

All of us eventually gathered around the cemetery flag pole and the ceremony began. When the reading of Canadian Lt.Col. John McCrae’s “In Flanders Fields” commenced, the sun broke through and cast all of the vets in a beautiful morning light sifting down through the scattered clouds. Then caps came off, taps was played, and a few tears were shed. When caps returned to heads, the solemnity broke, and the coffee and goodies table became the most popular place to gather. After a hot cuppa or two, the vets ventured south and on to Lone Fir Cemetery — and the sun hid again behind the clouds.

Taylor Ocean Park Cemetery

Meanwhile, all last week, the Ocean Park Cemetery experience rattled around in my mind. I’d never thought much about it before, though I know several people buried there. I guess it’s something we live humans want to keep at a distance. But I’d been told to talk to Sandy Tellvik about its history, so I called her and got bits and bites about her “20 year labor of love.”

Sandy joined the OP cemetery board in 2000 and found that systems were in a bit of disarray. “I started asking questions, like, ‘Is there a list of people buried?’ ‘Do we know who owns these lots?’ and ‘Are there clear lot lines?’ Every answer was ‘No.’ What records they had were on recipe cards. I’ve always liked cemeteries and my whole family is buried up there — I grew up in Nahcotta — so I started doing research.”

Sandy got systems whipped into shape and records set up on the computer. Then began the process of figuring out who was buried where. She went digging into the microfiche records at the Ocean Park Timberland Library, reading obituaries, and began a whole file of sketches about all the people who are now residents of that sacred ground. “The first owners of the cemetery were William and Adelaide Taylor and the first burial was their baby, ‘Baby Taylor,’ not even named, in 1887. The cemetery was registered with the state of Washington in 1904. When the Taylor’s died they willed the cemetery to their daughter, Maude, who married William Begg. Then one of their daughters, Janet [who married another William, William Wineberg] willed the cemetery to the town of Ocean Park in 1956.” When I said, “But Ocean Park isn’t a municipality — who legally accepted the property?” She responded, “There were five board members who accepted it for the town. People didn’t get too excited about the details then.”

Sandy continues, “I found out we have people from all over the world buried in Ocean Park: from the Isle of Man, Greece, South America. I read all the obituaries and made up three binders of stories. [These are now housed at the Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum.] You wonder, ‘How did they get to Ocean Park?’ I also did a report on all the Native Americans with genealogy documentation. There’s a ton of information online now. We even have two Civil War vets in the cemetery — Nelson Kindall and David Newman — and one from the Spanish American War. Yes, my research was a labor of love. I loved every minute of it!”

It’s Sandy’s research that set the stage for the placing of 178 flags on the headstones or markers of the vets buried in the Taylor Ocean Park Cemetery. And if there was a story to be found about any one particular burial, she unearthed it. Sandy has stepped down from the board now, but those years of questionable record keeping are long gone. Everyone who’s absent is accounted for!

So sun, clouds, wind, or rain — whether it’s that “free box” emptying out by the side of the road, the traditional cannon firing of the Oysterville Militia, or hot coffee and cookies at the Ocean Park Cemetery — our 2023 Memorial Day Weekend turned out to be a showcasing of the features that make our small town home so well loved.