Memorial Karma

Revolutionary War Day, originally uploaded by l'ennui d'ennui.

It's Memorial Day here in the U.S., which for me brings back memories of our annual high school band march in the Topton, PA Memorial Day parade. It was usually hot, and the band uniforms thick and synthetic, which meant that occasionally some kid would faint and we'd wonder if there would actually be someone we knew to memorialize.

But those days are long past, and in the spirit of the weekend I've been thinking of the actual military veterans in my family line, from my brother (not a veteran, but now in Iraq for reals) to the very first Trexlers to set foot in this fair city.

And therein lies the tale.

Y'see, the original plan was not for the Trexlers to end up in Mertztown and thereabouts in PA Dutch Country, which at the time they arrived here in the 1730s was just a bunch of trees. Nope, they arrived right here in NYC, on Governors Island, where they were quarantined for a bit before settling down to farm by the Hudson River.

The deal, discovered a local historian, was relatively straightforward: they'd develop a plot of arable land and in exchange, the local British folk would give them agreed-upon provisions until things stabilized.

Except, as it turned out, they got crappy land and small supplies of subpar food that was, per the reports, often rotten.

The admins of PA heard about the Hudson Germans complaints and issued an Invitation: come to this undeveloped spot in PA where there is REAL arable land, we'll treat ya nice: potatoes, venison, massages, free wireless, the works.

So off they went and created a town. Well, actually, a bunch of farm-studded roads in woods part of which eventually got called Mertztown by a bunch of ungrateful glory-seeking parvenus (Mertz? Pfah! It should be Trexlertown 2!). And the land really was arable--I didn't realize until I went to college that the whole country wasn't coated with deep dark rich topsoil.

Which leads me to Memorial Day. Thirty odd years from the relocation to PA, the colonies declare their independence and take up arms against the British. Look in the colonial military roster and you'll see the Trexler family, whose mistreatment by the British was still fresh in their minds.

The moral of the story: don't serve me bad food or I just might take up arms.