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Fr. Scott Bailey, C.Ss.R.'s avatar

Thank you for your service. And thank you for your post.

I came of age in the 60s and 70s in the Boston suburbs. Life was still very community oriented. Everyone knew everyone else in the neighborhood. We shopped in the same stores, went to the same schools, worshipped in the same churches, all within walking distance (well, walking distance then). In a corner of what was the elementary school playground is a memorial to the boys who died fighting in WW II. People knew those boys who went away to fight and never came home. There comrades were our fathers and uncles. If we didn’t know them we knew their families. We knew their names.

Every year a wreath is laid at that memorial. It used to be done on the morning of Memorial Day with a gathering of neighbors. People told stories about those boys who went away and never came home. Many of the story tellers were the boys who did come home.

Now the wreath just shows up. I don’t know if it’s put there by the city or a veteran’s group. There is no gathering. There are no stories. Few if any remember the names.

We have lost our sense of community. We don’t know our neighbors other than to wave or give a nod. We don’t have a shared past. There are no neighborhood schools. Even our churches no longer draw from people who live in the area. We are individuals who happen to live in proximity to one another.

I’m not sure we can regain a sense of community. People are too busy, too mobile. We had it once, even in the big cities. The only place it still exists is in rural areas, small towns, and villages. And we’re in danger of losing them with our misguided sense of success and what’s important. And, saddest of all, we’re in danger of losing ourselves.

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Casey B. Head's avatar

The world got smaller but somehow we got further apart. Maybe if it were a great big wide world again we could remember we need each other.

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Fr. Scott Bailey, C.Ss.R.'s avatar

Amen. I am now back living where I grew up. My mom is 93. I dream of being a priest in a village or small town. But that’s my dream. I don’t know if it’s what God has in mind. I’ve only been at peace following His dream for me.

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Marie Fritz's avatar

Thank you for sharing this!

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Casey B. Head's avatar

Thank you for reading.

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Marcia's avatar

I wish I had understood more at the time, I just remember being scared to death, my “baby” being so far away and nothing I could do to protect him, GOD bless you and I am so grateful that you came home.❤️

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Robert C Culwell's avatar

Thanx

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Michele Linehan's avatar

Thank you for your service, Casey. Great writing!

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Casey B. Head's avatar

Thank you for reading.

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William Foster's avatar

Wish I could like this piece a thousand times.

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Casey B. Head's avatar

I wish you could too, but one means a lot.

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