The graves of veterans are festooned with greenery on National Wreaths Across America Day

Many dozen gathered at the New Paltz Rural Cemetery as the winter sun approached its zenith, that thin seasonal daylight carrying but a concept of a plan of what warmth might feel like. Scouts who wanted their uniforms visible for the ceremony to come seemed determined not to look cold, but others in uniform — including many law enforcement officers — seemed to be insulated underneath their dress blues. The rest of the crowd was awash with thick hats and sturdy mufflers to guard against still, chill air. 

They gathered to participate in Wreaths Across America, a seasonal event during which the graves of veterans are festooned with greenery. Held on the second Saturday of December, volunteers like this group gather in an estimated 4,600 cemeteries nationwide to place wreaths on the graves of veterans. 

New Paltz Rural Cemetery has been a resting place for veterans since it was created in 1861, according to the cemetery board’s president, Jon Simonson. The cemetery was commissioned outside of town to have a place to bring dead from the Grand Army of the Republic. Families even had some Revolutionary War veteran ancestors reinterred at the rural cemetery. While civilian burials occupy much of the space used since, space for 100 veterans’ graves was set aside in 2008, in agreement with county officials, and a much larger county veteran cemetery area has since been dedicated. All told, 1,065 veterans are now buried at New Paltz Rural Cemetery. 

The ceremony began with a color guard sporting six flags: those for nation and state, cities of New York and Kingston, the county of Ulster and the flag of the New York City Department of Conservation, as it was those police parading the colors. Following a rifle salute and the playing of Taps, ceremonial wreaths were laid for each of the five military branches (army, navy, marines, air force, space force), followed by the coast guard and merchant marine, one for those still missing in action or believed to be prisoners of war, and a flag recognizing the families of those who died in combat and those currently serving in combat zones. 

A highlight was the releasing of two rehabilitated red-tailed hawks, who had recovered from injuries sustained living too close to humans, and were asked to carry memories to the dead. As each bird was released, attendees were invited to call out the name of a veteran. 

Hearts swollen by pride of service and love of nature, they fanned out across the cemetery to lay wreaths on the veterans’ graves. Some have not yet seen a full season’s grass grow since they were buried, while others have rested for centuries in this place. In the oldest parts of the cemetery, African American veteran graves — often unmarked or poorly marked — lie across roads from those of white soldiers, segregated in death even after fighting for racial equality in life. No matter their standing or circumstances, each of these fallen soldiers was to be given a wreath, to have their name said aloud, and to be thanked for their service. 

Under the chill winter sun, be they children in arms or wizened elders leaning upon canes, they made these holiday offerings, knowing that what is remembered, lives.