SUNDERLAND – The Memorial Day parade on May 27 was decidedly modest this year.

The school marching band, most of the floats and the crowds didn’t show up. Jim Ewen, the town’s recreation coordinator, delayed the parade, then waited in front of Town Hall for more pieces to arrive.

They didn’t.

It didn’t matter.

The Connecticut River wasn’t the only flow in Sunderland that evening.

Townspeople came out to be part of the living memory of the town as it flowed down Main Street to the graveyard for the ceremony.

The high school marching band played at Frontier’s senior prom, scheduled for the same night, so it was a quiet parade. Four drummers paradiddled. Children chattered on the sidewalks. The sky threatened rain, the air hung warm and muggy, and along with the drone of mosquitos the threat of coronavirus hovered over the fire trucks and marchers.

“COVID[-19] has been challenging. The Frontier band usually has 70 or 80 members. They’re down to about 40,” Ewen said. The marching band always takes part in the town’s memorial parade. “It’s been a challenging year for the schools too. They’ve had trouble getting all of their activities and events in, so it is what it is.”

Police vehicles, antique cars, T-ball and baseball teams, and a white steepled replica of the Congregational Church, mounted on a pickup truck, formed a queue in front of Town Hall and the library. Fire engines, emergency vehicles, and an antique ladder truck waited across Main Street, beside the Blue Heron Restaurant.

Ewen gave the signal to begin, the first time in two years, and the parade began flowing south on Main Street.

Eileen Skribiski-Banack, a mother of two sons, said the senior prom is a necessary event for graduating seniors. It’s important for them to celebrate the milestone together – but her younger son, an underclassman, chose to play drums and march in the parade.

“Always, we come out with the Frontier marching band,” Skribiski-Banack said. “It’s a lot of fun.”
Part of the fun was saying hello to neighbors clustered on porches and lawns. Youngsters caught candies tossed by a fireman. The float for a martial arts studio rolled past. Paraders passed the black silhouette of a kneeling soldier and 19 white crosses. The silhouette represented a lost son of the Graves family, Richard Graves, who was killed in Vietnam.

Carol Claughton, a Main Street resident, watched the parade with her family, sitting in lawn chairs on the driveway. She felt the absence of the school band but said the town “does such a great job of getting people out.”

“We love the parade,” Claughton said. “We kinda miss the high school band, but we had COVID[-19], so things changed a little bit. But it’s coming back. [And] yes, we’re going to the cemetery. They play ‘Taps’ and it’s really nice. It’s that old fashioned good town feeling.”

Townspeople turned right onto Cemetery Road, as they have for decades, and left footprints in the dusty ruts. The fields to either side lay stubbly after the first cutting of hay, the sky wide and gunmetal gray, the smell of minerals in the air.

Riverside Cemetery waited among the trees.

“People really look forward to this ceremony,” Ewen said. “There’s nothing like it, for me, turning off South Main Street and walking up through the farm fields, to this cemetery on the Connecticut River, all the flags on the graves, and all the people gathered here to honor those 19 Sunderland residents who died in battle.”

A wreath of red carnations waited beside a flagpole. About 50 residents stood silent as our striped and starred flag rose to half mast, an honoring of the dead.

State Rep. Natalie Blais spoke about family and community. Rev. Randy Calvo of the First Congregational Church said a prayer. The names of the 19 lost to war filled the air. A small silver bell tolled for each.
The bell, Ewen said, is a Navy memorial bell that tolled whenever a sailor was buried at sea. The bell belonged to John White, now deceased.

“This was his bell,” Ewen said. “He and his wife rode the motorcycle in the parade, carrying the bell, and he rang the bell when we named each of the 19.”

Small bouquets were laid below the wreath of red flowers.

The bell pealed a silver note for each of the 19. Seven veterans fired rifles into the air. Frontier graduate Phaelon Koski played taps.

The ceremony ended.

The modesty of the parade mattered not a wit to the gathered residents who straggled back to Town Hall or to home.