I was busy on Monday, Memorial Day 2026, but it was a good busy. Having been invited to the Memorial Day festivities by my ophthalmologist, who is the Mayor of Florence, to pray over the gathering to honor those who had paid the ultimate price of service of our nation. As I set there in a patriotic crowd of people, we all recognized the importance of this special day and could feel the freedom of it. While music was played by the Florence orchestra - dignitaries and several of our recognized politicians were acknowledged. A woman, highly decorated with military service of 28 years, was the speaker of the day. As she spoke, her love for her nation was evident, and the stories she shared spotlighted others Gold Star parents whose sons did not make it home from the battle front.
My thoughts were going back all the way to my infancy, and I shared those thoughts before I prayed the opening prayer. I remembered my early childhood, when Goldie (my Mother), was sent to Fordyce, Arkansas to work in a munitions plant. In World War II, everyone worked. My Dad was sent to the other side of the world, to a place called Burma. Then when I was four, my father came home and we met him at the Train Depot in Ft. Worth, Texas. My uncle Poncie, who was four years older than me, was strong enough to carry my father's duffle bag, but I was to small to carry it. I even remember being a little afraid of my father, even though I wanted his attention.
As I sat there on a beautiful day under the canopy of heaven, I realized that was my first patriotic moment. From that day on I made newspapers into Navy caps and would stand upon my father's foot locker and salute like I was a real swabby; an affectionate term used for sailors early on back in the day. These memories made Memorial Day to me.
I told them I had officiated the funerals of men from World War I, World War II, and preached the funerals of soldiers who had died of Agent Orange. As I prayed, I fought back tears, thinking about those who sacrificed their lives for our freedoms. As I type this message, I recalled how GayNell and I watched the body bags come back from the conflict in Vietnam. I was so stirred I went to the recruiters to join the Army. He asked me what my job was and I told him I was working with Drug addicts in the East End of Houston. He looked at me and tore my application up in front of my face. He said, "We need you more here than there." I have to be honest with myself, I was somewhat disappointed.
I thought about the trips I have traveled into other nations; from war torn nations to behind the Iron Curtain. I thought about the trip to Soweto in South Africa. It was an unforgettable day where even though we were in a military vehicle, we were attacked by about 2,000 angry rock throwing inhabitants of suppressed residents. I recalled how I was taken to Mandela's House, which is now a museum. My friend, known as The Prof, took me there. He had been a prisoner with Mandela for eight years. His story of freedom is legendary and told across the continent of Africa. I remember him taking me to a cross roads where there were 4 way stop signs, for it was there he recalled his decision to follow God where ever he took him. His first doctorate of ten, was in music. As he stood there at those cross-roads, a melody rose up in his spirit:
"SO I'LL FOLLOW, SO I'LL FOLLOW, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST!!
SO I'LL FOLLOW, SO I'LL FOLLOW, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST!!"
THIS IS THE ANTHEM SUNG ACROSS AFRICA, DURING THE COLLAPSE OF APARTHEID. BECAUSE ONLY CHRISTIANS KNEW THIS WAS WHERE YOU FIND TRUE FREEDOM, INDEED.
As I set there on that perfect day, for a celebration. I thought once again about the young son of a soldier that was attending the award ceremony of his father who had died in battle. It was in a gun battle. He had seen a comrade penned down an exposed to a sniper, without hesitation he stood and warned his friend and it was then he was shot and killed. During the award ceremony, this story was told to the great crowd who was in attendance. At the end of the festivities, the son of the fallen soldier went to the soldier whose life was spared by his father warning him of the danger. He asked him one searching question:
"SIR, WAS IT WORTH IT?"
"Was it worth it that my father sacrificed his life for yours?"
Let me ask you a question: "Was the sacrificed life of Jesus on the cross, giving his life for yours worth it?"
I was honored to be a part of this special day, as they sang songs of love for recounted events of history, and honored those who have made supreme sacrifices for freedom. My last thoughts of the day, were; LET FREEDOM REIGN !!!
GOD BLESS AMERICA AND GOD BLESS YOU AND YOUR FAMILIES IS MY PRAYER
Pastor Cleddie Keith
My thoughts were going back all the way to my infancy, and I shared those thoughts before I prayed the opening prayer. I remembered my early childhood, when Goldie (my Mother), was sent to Fordyce, Arkansas to work in a munitions plant. In World War II, everyone worked. My Dad was sent to the other side of the world, to a place called Burma. Then when I was four, my father came home and we met him at the Train Depot in Ft. Worth, Texas. My uncle Poncie, who was four years older than me, was strong enough to carry my father's duffle bag, but I was to small to carry it. I even remember being a little afraid of my father, even though I wanted his attention.
As I sat there on a beautiful day under the canopy of heaven, I realized that was my first patriotic moment. From that day on I made newspapers into Navy caps and would stand upon my father's foot locker and salute like I was a real swabby; an affectionate term used for sailors early on back in the day. These memories made Memorial Day to me.
I told them I had officiated the funerals of men from World War I, World War II, and preached the funerals of soldiers who had died of Agent Orange. As I prayed, I fought back tears, thinking about those who sacrificed their lives for our freedoms. As I type this message, I recalled how GayNell and I watched the body bags come back from the conflict in Vietnam. I was so stirred I went to the recruiters to join the Army. He asked me what my job was and I told him I was working with Drug addicts in the East End of Houston. He looked at me and tore my application up in front of my face. He said, "We need you more here than there." I have to be honest with myself, I was somewhat disappointed.
I thought about the trips I have traveled into other nations; from war torn nations to behind the Iron Curtain. I thought about the trip to Soweto in South Africa. It was an unforgettable day where even though we were in a military vehicle, we were attacked by about 2,000 angry rock throwing inhabitants of suppressed residents. I recalled how I was taken to Mandela's House, which is now a museum. My friend, known as The Prof, took me there. He had been a prisoner with Mandela for eight years. His story of freedom is legendary and told across the continent of Africa. I remember him taking me to a cross roads where there were 4 way stop signs, for it was there he recalled his decision to follow God where ever he took him. His first doctorate of ten, was in music. As he stood there at those cross-roads, a melody rose up in his spirit:
"SO I'LL FOLLOW, SO I'LL FOLLOW, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST!!
SO I'LL FOLLOW, SO I'LL FOLLOW, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST, I WILL FOLLOW JESUS CHRIST!!"
THIS IS THE ANTHEM SUNG ACROSS AFRICA, DURING THE COLLAPSE OF APARTHEID. BECAUSE ONLY CHRISTIANS KNEW THIS WAS WHERE YOU FIND TRUE FREEDOM, INDEED.
As I set there on that perfect day, for a celebration. I thought once again about the young son of a soldier that was attending the award ceremony of his father who had died in battle. It was in a gun battle. He had seen a comrade penned down an exposed to a sniper, without hesitation he stood and warned his friend and it was then he was shot and killed. During the award ceremony, this story was told to the great crowd who was in attendance. At the end of the festivities, the son of the fallen soldier went to the soldier whose life was spared by his father warning him of the danger. He asked him one searching question:
"SIR, WAS IT WORTH IT?"
"Was it worth it that my father sacrificed his life for yours?"
Let me ask you a question: "Was the sacrificed life of Jesus on the cross, giving his life for yours worth it?"
I was honored to be a part of this special day, as they sang songs of love for recounted events of history, and honored those who have made supreme sacrifices for freedom. My last thoughts of the day, were; LET FREEDOM REIGN !!!
GOD BLESS AMERICA AND GOD BLESS YOU AND YOUR FAMILIES IS MY PRAYER
Pastor Cleddie Keith