On Memorial Day I sat on a park bench on Connecticut Avenue in Washington, DC. My mind turned to Memorial Day, 1916, one hundred years ago. I thought of the men wearing a suit and tie and a hat, walking on the sidewalk. Traffic would consist of a mix of motor cars and horses. The women would be wearing hats and white gloves, probably. My father was 9 years old. The Lincoln Memorial was under construction. War would come in 1917. Summer 1916 was the last normal summer. Everything changed after that summer.

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