One Bugler’s Moment of Remembrance, 2005

The colors were waving in front of Union Station, in downtown Denver, Colorado. Rain threatened, and indeed would come, on this overcast Memorial Day. With permission secured to sound Taps from both Amtrak and building security, I proceeded to where it was suggested the most visibility would be afforded.

At the moment designated for remembrance by the White House, 15:00 on 30 May 2005, I stood facing the flag pole, outside by the street, in my best suit bearing a U.S. flag lapel pin. Gloves of white raised the Getzen Bugle to lips prepared to sound the twenty-four solemn notes. Above the street noise, the call was raised. Some cars driving by rolled down their windows despite the onset of raindrops. Evenly the notes sounded. The call was heard by passers-by across the street. Played more softly now, the last notes faded away.

The rain, having accommodated, picked up. Moving into the station waiting room, I positioned myself near the ticket counter. The ceiling was two very-tall stories over my head. I sensed a dramatic change from outdoor street noise, to a quieter room. Echoing voices were evidence that the room was acoustically live, holding potential for an interesting effect. I knew I would have to play as softly as I could, and that firm control of the sound would be required.

Immediately I raised the horn to sound the service sweetly. The first notes gently parted the silence. Day is done… As the first motif finished, its echoes remained strong. Patiently I paused, and then played again before the sound died away. gone the sun… With a sense of space between phrases, From the hills… yet maintaining connectedness, from the lake… From the sky… the call continued. All is well… The sound tiered climactically. Notes slowly and firmly descended. safely rest… With sweet softness, the finish faded tenderly. God is nigh…Whispering now, the tone gently relinquished itself to silence. The moment, stolen from the day’s course, hung in prominence. In that room, at the hour, speech was reticent to return.

As I was leaving, an elderly man, seated, waved me over, saying “That was very nice of you.” Thank you, it was my honor. He inquired whether I would be making other stops. I sat with him and his wife for a moment. This was my only stop, as another event for the Colorado Freedom Memorial Fund at the gravesite of WW I Lieutenant Francis B. Lowry, was cancelled due to weather. I took the opportunity to let them know of the White House Moment of Remembrance and of the volunteer work of BAA in addressing the dire need for live bugling. She remarked she had been to a military funeral where the alternate method had been used. I encouraged her to suggest BuglesAcrossAmerica.org to anyone in need that she knew. She expressed appreciation for our work, saying it makes a big difference.

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the hills, from the lake,
From the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.

Fades the light; And afar
Goeth day, And the stars
Shineth bright,
Fare thee well; Day has gone,
Night is on.

Thanks and praise, For our days,
'Neath the sun, Neath the stars,
'Neath the sky,
As we go, This we know,
God is nigh.

-www.tapsbugler.com

Renewed by the knowledge that I helped others remember those who sacrificed themselves, I headed out into the gray day.


David G. Burkhardt
Member, Bugles Across America
May 30, 2005