Thank You to those who heard the bells of Tillman one last time

The Scroll of Honor is a special place.

by David Hood - Senior Writer - Mon May 31 08:00:06 GMT-04:00 2021

An early morning ride of thankfulness wound up at Clemson’s Scroll of Honor.

I often write about Clemson’s military history and the Scroll of Honor because I feel like we owe it to ourselves, and those who came before us, to acknowledge that beautiful history and to pay homage to those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in service to our country. To me, it’s OK to take a break from football and recruiting and the sports we love so much to remember those who gave their all.

I have written before that there are times I stand under those beautiful, old trees on campus and my mind wanders to the young men who stood under many of those same trees and took a last, long look before departing for duty. Maybe some of them realized they would never set foot on campus again, maybe some of them didn’t and hoped to once again stroll its timeless foothills. They didn’t know that they would never hear the peals of the bells of Tillman Hall, or feel the breeze blowing through the old oak trees, or listen to the rustling of the leaves on a beautiful fall day. They left, and they never came back. They left, and they never came back.

Now, their names are immortalized on the Scroll of Honor, there for all to see and to learn, just feet from the echoes of the crowd on a college football Saturday. The Scroll of Honor Memorial occupies a highly visible plot of ground directly across the street from Memorial Stadium. The memorial is in the form of a barrow ringed with stones upon which are engraved the names of 493 alumni who died on active military service. The memorial stands as a steady, silent tribute to these heroes, which range from the 31 members who gave their lives in World War I to the 376 who gave all in World War II to the four who have died in service during the Global War on Terrorism.

Saturday night was a long night for me – our newest addition is baby Easton, who is a happy, bubbly four-month old who has brought so much joy into our lives. But he developed a cough Friday and it was getting worse, so I bundled him up after midnight and took him to the Emergency Room. He will be fine after a round of antibiotics, but we didn’t leave the hospital until sometime after 5:20 AM.

As I drove down the highway towards Clemson the light of a new day awaited us, gently breaking over the water of Lake Hartwell. Instead of continuing down Highway 123, I instead drove onto campus, listening to the quiet snores of my baby. I turned up the road and went towards the stadium and the Scroll of Honor, knowing full well what this weekend means to so many people.

The amber light of a new morning filtered through those grand trees and the Scroll of Honor was still a mere shadow, knoll rising up like a sentinel in the night. I rolled down the window and listened to the last songs of the tree frogs and the merry chirps of birds greeting the new day. I bowed my head and gave thanks for my beautiful child, and I thanked the Good Lord that there are men and women who stand in the breach for all of us so we can go about our normal lives.

The last year has been hard on everyone, but I am thankful that we are trending towards normalcy and already looking forward to a new college season. We have a lot to be thankful for in this country, and that thanks should start by saying a loud thank you to those who made the supreme sacrifice.

Happy Memorial Day my friends, and as you swim and grill out and go boating or take a trip to the beach, remember those who made it possible. And the next time you’re on campus, listen for the bells of Tillman, or feel the breeze as it blows on a fall day, and think about those who felt and heard those things one last time.