Staunton Star - Times - Published in the Interest of the Staunton Community for Over 143 Years

White marble stones glisten in the power of the sun as it edges its way into the heavens, quietly saluting the resting place of hero’s. The sound of taps lingers in the forests of the mind. In our way to freedom the wind whispers a thousand names as we climb the hill of memory. A tribute breaks the silence with a volley of thunder, flags turn inward, bowing and keeping vigil where the hero’s lie. From the dim unknown, a tear touches the earth to water its pain.

And so shall we remember the meaning of a free land, holding its liberty in the sacrament of those who left behind something wo...