Public, private moments fill day

The old man wandered. Back and forth he went with purpose.

He carried a piece of paper, a map of some kind. He kept his head down.

Applause rang from up the hill, where important people gave important speeches. They said words such as "sacrifice," and "thanks," and "freedom." "Promise," they said. "Loss." "Blessed."

The old man approached a gravestone. He bowed down, put one knee on the ground, gently cleared away debris. He made the sign of the cross with his head hung low and remained there in silence.

Hundreds came out Monday to honor the fallen on Memorial Day. Many visited grave sites at Southern Nevada Veterans Memorial Cemetery in Boulder City, where the old man was one of those who prayed.

Joel Jaime came out for the second time in a week to visit his twin brother's grave.

"I miss him like crazy, man," he said. "He's about to be an uncle."

Jaime's brother, Jesse, died four years ago in Iraq when a bomb blew up the Humvee he and a group of Marines were riding in. He was 22 years old.

Now, Joel is 26. His wife is due to deliver their first child in August.

He said he was out at his brother's grave a few days ago, his first trip since Christmas. He and a buddy had been drinking. He left two cans of Bud Light. They were still there Monday.

"It's hard for me to come out here," Joel said. "I don't come out as often as I could."

On the night Jesse was killed, Joel woke at 2 a.m. He was serving in Iraq, too, with a different unit of the Marines.

Second Platoon's been hit, a buddy said. They didn't know who, yet.

But Joel knew.

"As soon as they said that, I had a sick feeling in my stomach," he said. Fifteen minutes later, it was official.

Five Marines died in that Humvee, June 15, 2005. Five families torn apart.

"He was, like, the total opposite of me," Joel said, laughing a little. "He was a nice, loving guy."

He's had a hard time, sometimes, dealing with things. With Jesse's death. With life. With the things that happened over there that he doesn't talk about.

Still, he said he'd do it all again.

"I love the Marines," he said.

So did his brother.

"He died doing what he loved."

Joel got up then to go inside, to meet his folks, to listen to the speeches. "Take care," he said.

U.S. Sen. John Ensign, R-Nev., reminded everyone that Memorial Day isn't about barbecues and a day off work.

Thanks to the men and women in uniform, he said, America is the best place there is to be.

"If you don't think this is the greatest country in the world," he said, "you just have to travel."

Rep. Shelley Berkley, D-Nev., said 48 Nevadans have died in Iraq and Afghanistan in the current wars.

Rep. Dina Titus, D-Nev., said we should all thank the men and women who serve.

"When they return to America," she said, "America will be there for them. We promise them that."

Back outside, the sun bore down.

The old man with the plot map got up. He had a second grave to find. He wandered for perhaps 20 minutes, methodical in his search.

Row by row he went. He passed hundreds of graves. He fanned himself.

He must have been hot, dressed as he was in jeans and a denim button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

He was 71 years old. He'd served in the Army from 1955 to 1959. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

On he wandered, by himself, row by row with his head down, until he stopped again, right in the middle of everything, private in his grief.

Tom Cohoon put his hands in his pockets. He gazed at the ground, unmoving. He bowed his head and crossed himself.

Two guys he grew up with in Minnesota are buried there, he said later, on his way back to the car. One served in the Marines, one in the Navy.

"I try to get out here," he said, "say a prayer for them every once in a while."

Contact reporter Richard Lake at rlake @reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0307.