First coffee is almost cold. Studio is too a little, at the dawn of Remembrance Day 2014.
I know ’cause I was there, that night in Barkley Square…
I played in the dark this morning at the Remembrance Day ceremony for a public school, grades Kindergarten to eight.
All the kids were utterly silent as they came in, solemn. I played (they requested these at rehearsal) Slow movements from Marcello Cello sonatas; Sarabandes from Bach cello Suites; My Lagan Love, the lyrics for which were re-written to fit such an occasion by Richard Farina. I played some scottish tunes for my grandfather Robert McArthur, who drove supply truck in WWII and could not drive anything afterwards when he returned to Canada; and some english tunes for Sam Farrar, who served in WWII and whose grandson of the same name was sitting silently beside me on the floor in all that sea of children.
The grade eights stood holding candles dressed in black, and read from a collection of wartime letters. The choir sang, we all sang.
We were silent for one minute during the trumpet fanfare.
It’s important to remember.
I’ll be looking at the moon,
but I’ll be seeing you.