“MY FIRST HOLE IN ONE."
These were the last words I expected to read on a headstone at a veteran's cemetery. Yet, there it was, etched beneath the name Richard L. Meester Sr., AOAN, US Navy, Vietnam, and his birth and death dates. The moment I saw those five words, I couldn't help but laugh out loud, a sound that felt both jarring and strangely appropriate amid the sanctity of the setting.
On Memorial Day weekend, I joined my parents at a national veteran’s cemetery to place flags in front of headstones of fallen veterans. This was my first time participating in such an event, and it was an incredibly humbling and moving experience. Each flag was placed exactly one foot in front of the center of the headstones, and as I did so, I said the names of the veterans aloud: “[First Name, Last Name], thank you for your service.” Initially, my voice was soft and hesitant, but it grew stronger and clearer with each name I spoke.
That morning, I placed somewhere between seventy-five to a hundred flags into the South Florida soil. The volunteers were a diverse group, ranging from ungrateful grade school students who fussed about not being able to listen to music, to young adults like myself who mostly kept to themselves, to parents sweating profusely in the heat, and grandparents whose solemn faces portrayed an extreme level of stoic reverence.
Just before we began, the organizer asked if any relatives of deceased veterans in that section would like to place a flag in front of their loved one’s headstone. Out of the hundreds of volunteers, one particularly old lady stepped forward, her steps slow but determined. Seeing her walk alone towards her relative’s headstone made my heart sink and a wave of gratitude washed over me.
Towards the later end of placing flags, I stumbled upon Richard’s headstone. The unexpected humor of his final message brought a needed moment of levity to the morning. After having a seriously good laugh, I called my Dad over to share in the moment. Despite having golfed only a handful of times myself, I instantly appreciated the wit behind "MY FIRST HOLE IN ONE."
Reflecting on this rather hysterical moment, I pondered what kind of man Richard was. Did he always have a sense of humor that set him apart? Did his family know of this long before his burial? I like to imagine that Richard, like many of the veterans around him, also was a loving father and husband, as countless headstones proclaimed. But beyond that, he revealed himself to be a man who could bring humor and lightness to the most solemn and revered places.
If Richard were alive today, I like to think we’d share a good laugh over the final line on his headstone. Then I’d ask for his opinion on the ones I have in mind for myself: “PLAYING CHESS WITH ANGELS” or “OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD.” But we both know it will be hard to beat “MY FIRST HOLE IN ONE.”