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Lamentably, but not surprisingly, a sizeable number of Americans (including some in very high places) have limited knowledge of or respect for those who gave up their lives for others under very unpleasant circumstances, and the holiday is more often revered as a day off of work and the unofficial start of summer.
On a personal note, I am grateful that I do not have loved ones who have fallen in combat (although many of them had served) and that I am able to respect the holiday in the abstract without direct personal loss. My parents were not so fortunate, with perhaps the most poignant example being that of my father's cousin. He survived through the entire war until he was killed in the Pacific Theater on August 14, 1945--the same day that President Truman announced the surrender of Japan and the end of WWII. His parents were in the middle of hosting a victory celebration party when the dreaded news was delivered.

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