Wellesley on Friday held its Memorial Day observances at Woodlawn Cemetery and at the War Memorial in front of Town Hall.

Thank you to Wellesley Media for sharing its recording of the ceremony at the War Memorial, which included a speech by Wellesley resident Todd Bowers, a decorated combat veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps. (Staff Sergeant, retired). We’ve republished his words below.

A Living Remembrance: Honoring Sacrifice Through Community

By Todd Bowers

Good evening, Wellesley. Thank you for gathering here today at our War Memorial, right here in the heart of our town. It means a great deal to see our community – friends, neighbors, families – come together on this beautiful Memorial Day.

My name is Todd Bowers. Like many of you, I call Wellesley home. It’s where my family lives, where we participate in the life of this special town. I’m also a United States Marine Corps Veteran, and I’ve had the privilege, and the burden, of serving multiple combat tours.

Standing here feels… different. You might think facing down insurgents would prepare you for anything, but I confess, addressing my neighbors, the people I see at Fells Market or splashing in Morses Pond, still brings a flutter in my stomach. Honestly, dodging actual bullets sometimes felt less intimidating than potentially boring you all. Perhaps it’s because this – sharing this solemn day with you, in this place – feels incredibly important. It’s a profound honor and I hope to do it justice.

We’re here today, not just to mark the unofficial start of summer or fire up the grill. We’re here to connect with the original, sacred purpose of Memorial Day – initially called Decoration Day – a day born from the immense loss of the Civil War and now dedicated to remembering and honoring all Americans who gave their last full measure of devotion in service to this nation. It’s easy for the deeper meaning to get diluted amidst barbecues and sales, but today, here in Wellesley, we consciously choose to remember why this day exists: to honor those who did not come home.

For a Marine, service is ingrained. It’s built on core values: Honor, Courage, Commitment. These aren’t just words on a poster; they become the foundation of your character, tested in ways you can’t imagine until you’re there. It’s not just a job; it’s a choice, a conscious decision to dedicate yourself to something larger than yourself, to protect the freedoms and values we, as Americans, hold dear – the very freedoms that allow us to gather openly like this today.

In the service, especially deployed in harm’s way, you forge bonds that are hard to explain to those who haven’t lived it. You learn to depend on the Marine to your left, the Marine to your right – your fellow Marines, men and women – with absolute trust. In those moments, under that pressure, none of the differences that might divide us in the civilian world matter – not the color of your skin, not who you love, not how you identify. All that matters is the Marine next to you and the mission. They become your family. You share everything – the fear, the boredom, the laughter, the grief. That intense camaraderie, that shared experience under extreme pressure, is one of the most profound parts of service.

And it’s precisely because those bonds are so strong that the loss cuts so deep. Sacrifice is a word we use often today, but what does it truly mean? It means understanding the very real possibility of not coming home to places like Wellesley, to the tree-lined streets and the familiar faces. It means accepting that you might miss first steps, anniversaries, Linden Store hoagies, holidays, the quiet, everyday moments that make up a life. And that sacrifice isn’t borne solely by the one in uniform. It’s carried by their spouses, their children, their parents – the families who serve and sacrifice right alongside them, often without recognition, facing their own unique struggles when a loved one is lost. They are the often-unrecognized heroes in our communities. While people like me enlist, our families are drafted.

So, on Memorial Day, for veterans like me, the remembering isn’t abstract. It’s specific. It’s personal. Standing here, looking at these names etched on our memorial, it brings back the faces, the names, the voices of friends who didn’t get to come home. We carry them with us. For me, remembrance isn’t just faces and names; sometimes it’s the sharp, visceral memory of specific moments… like during Phantom Fury in Fallujah. There was a moment… I saw a young Iraqi boy who had been shot, lying vulnerable in the open. As I moved to try and reach him, to shield him, a sniper’s bullet found me. By some miracle, I survived it, though others nearby did not. You carry that. The ‘why me?’ The heavy, persistent weight of survival when others, just as brave, just as committed, just as loved, didn’t get that second chance. It’s a question, a feeling, that never fully leaves you. That weight, that question, is part of the remembering too. It fuels the need to honor them, to truly live in a way that respects the chance you were given. I remember Marines I served alongside – men and women of incredible courage, humor, conviction and character – whose journey ended on foreign soil, far from the lives they dreamed of living back here. We pause today, and many of us pause every day, to ‘say their name,’ to tell a story about them, because as long as we speak their name, they are never truly forgotten. It’s how we fight the fear of forgetting; it’s how we keep their legacy alive.

These personal memories, these individual stories of loss, are echoed in countless homes across America. They form the heart of why we gather collectively today, as a town and as a nation.

Our nation formally recognized the need for this collective remembrance after the staggering losses of the Civil War. What began as Decoration Day, a day to tend the graves of fallen soldiers with the choicest flowers of springtime, evolved after the immense sacrifices of World War I. It became a day to honor all Americans who have died in uniform, in every conflict, defending the ideals of this nation. It is a day for solemn pride in their heroism and gratitude for the peace and justice they sought to secure. The holiday changed as our history unfolded, but the fundamental need to remember, to honor the cost of freedom, remains constant.

And here in Wellesley, we embrace this duty with reverence. Our tradition of gathering first at Woodlawn Cemetery and then here at the War Memorial, the reading of the names of Wellesley’s own sons and daughters who perished in service – from the Revolutionary War to the present day – these acts make the national remembrance deeply personal to our community. It shows we understand the distinction. We know how to celebrate our town and honor all veterans, as we do so wonderfully during Wellesley’s Wonderful Weekend festivities and parade. But we also know that today, Memorial Day itself, is different. It is reserved for the solemn act of mourning our fallen, of remembering the cost.

Remembering is essential. But reflection alone is not enough. And here comes the part where I transition from solemn reflection to asking you all to do stuff. Bear with me. President Lincoln, standing on the battlefield at Gettysburg, called not just for remembrance, but for the living to rededicate themselves to the cause for which the soldiers gave their last full measure of devotion. He urged those left behind to ensure that the dead shall not have died in vain. How do we, the living, ensure their sacrifice continues to have meaning today, in our lives, right here in Wellesley?

Many veterans will tell you, while “thank you for your service” is appreciated, genuine, thoughtful actions resonate more deeply. True honor isn’t just spoken; it’s lived. It’s demonstrated in how we treat each other and how we contribute to the community they served to protect. It’s about showing gratitude through deeds, not just words.

So, how can we actively honor their memory right here in our town?

First, embrace service – something Wellesley does so well. They embodied service to the nation. Let’s honor that by serving our community. Volunteer your time – perhaps helping out at the Wellesley Food Pantry, coaching a youth sports team, assisting at the Council on Aging, serving on a town board, or finding another way to give back. When we serve our neighbors here in Wellesley, we are serving in their honor.

Second, practice intentional kindness. Let’s build the kind of community worth defending, the kind of place they dreamed of returning to. Check in on a neighbor who might be lonely or struggling. Offer a hand without being asked. Practice patience in traffic on Route 9 or in the Roche Bros. line. Easier said than done some days, I know, but worth the effort. Small, everyday acts of kindness, consideration, and respect strengthen the fabric of our town and make it a better place to live – a living tribute.

Third, support veterans and their families right here. Remember that sacrifice echoes through generations. Support the families of the fallen – our Gold Star families – who live with the weight of that sacrifice every single day. And support the veterans still among us who carry wounds, both seen and unseen. A listening ear, practical help like shoveling snow for an elderly or disabled veteran neighbor, or supporting organizations dedicated to their care makes a real difference. Honoring the fallen absolutely includes caring for those they fought alongside and those they left behind in our community.

Fourth, engage civically. They defended our way of life, our democracy. Honor them by participating in it. Attend Town Meeting, vote in local and national elections, stay informed about issues facing Wellesley, engage in respectful dialogue even when we disagree. Upholding the democratic values and processes they protected is a vital form of remembrance. But let us be clear: this day, this sacrifice, transcends politics. It must never be used as a political weapon or a tool for division. The men and women we honor today came from all backgrounds, all beliefs. Their shared sacrifice should be a unifying force, reminding us of the common ground we share as Americans. To twist their memory for political gain dishonors the very ideals they fought and died for.

These actions – service, kindness, support, engagement – they are not separate from remembrance. They are remembrance in action. They are how we build a community, a nation, worthy of the immense price paid by those we honor today. They become living memorials, ensuring the legacy of sacrifice inspires goodness and strengthens our shared bonds right here in Wellesley.

Memorial Day grounds us. It reminds us of the true cost of the freedoms we enjoy every single day. It calls us to carry the memory of the fallen not as a burden, but as a guiding light, inspiring us to be better citizens and better neighbors.

Let’s leave this place today not just with solemn thoughts, but with renewed commitment. A commitment to honor sacrifice through service, to strengthen our bonds as neighbors, and to build an even better Wellesley, together. This is how their legacy truly lives on, woven into the fabric of the community they loved and served.

May their sacrifice fuel our dedication to peace, understanding, and the enduring values of this great nation.

Let us never forget the price they paid. Let us cherish the liberty they secured.

May we always honor our fallen heroes and comfort their families. May the community of Wellesley and the United States of America continue to thrive in peace and unity. I can promise you, it’s what they all would have wanted.

Semper Fidelis.

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