Scout Weesner, a senior at  Abraham Baldwin Agricultural College, was mentioned in an earlier column titled “Kissing a Pig.” In 2009 I was one of five honorees who competed in a fundraiser sponsored by the Dooly County Livestock Association. Scout provided the pig. 

The cute little critter I had envisioned turned out to be a 600-pound barrow named Wilbur. Scout had raised him to show then sell, but he became a pet who lived quite well. Memories of kissing Wilbur still haunt me, but today’s musings are about a more serious undertaking by his tender-hearted owner.

I visited with Scout and her mother, Kathy, recently to learn about an organization called Carry The Load. Dr. Thomas Grant, a professor at ABAC, had encouraged Scout to volunteer. She’s now been involved with their month-long Memorial Day efforts for two years. The experience has given her a deeper appreciation for those who serve our country and a better perspective of how severe the costs can be.

Carry The Load was started by two Navy Seals in Dallas, Texas. Clint Bruce and Stephen Holly wanted to help restore the true meaning of Memorial Day. What began in 2011 as a 20-hour walk, evolved into year-round events to honor military heroes as well as first responders.

Bruce put weights in his backpack on that initial outing, one pound for each fallen hero he was particularly remembering. When he paused in Reverchon Park to speak to a World War II veteran, the old gentleman posed a thought-provoking question: “Son, who are you carrying?” That’s a common theme during the expanded walks of today.  

From that small beginning, Memorial Day observances have grown into annual treks through all fifty states. The continental U.S. is divided into five regions with routes that cover thousands of miles. Volunteers spend a month or more traversing 48 states and sleeping on a bus with triple-tiered bunks. They all converge in Dallas for Memorial Day. Alaska and Hawaii have separate rallies.

 Participants take turns walking and enjoy it when local supporters join them. Walks are typically from one to six miles, depending on circumstances. I was surprised to learn Scout was the youngest person on her bus in 2022 and one of only two females. Most of the walkers were retired veterans who understand grief far too well. They valued the ladies’ involvement and were quite protective of them.  

Hospitality is greatly appreciated along the route. Fire Stations are especially supportive, often sharing their bath facilities and providing a good meal. Some have sobering histories, like the Staten Island Fire Station which had multiple casualties on 9/11. 

On her first trip in 2022, Scout left on May 1st to join the East Coast leg which began at West Point, New York. A summer internship prevented her from making the entire 2023 trip, but she squeezed in two and a half weeks. She started with the West Coast group, then switched to the Midwest bus. 

Scout served as the photographer on the 2022 outing. She didn’t walk every mile but took pictures at each stop and a lot in between. Fellow travelers and others she met usually assumed there was a compelling personal reason for her being there, like the loss of a family member. She explained that wasn’t the case, which no doubt increased their admiration just as it did mine.

Countless families, soldiers, and first responders have been affected by heart-wrenching losses. Some casualties were related by blood, others by friendship and love. When a college student spends a month honoring fallen heroes she never knew, it reminds me that we each have ongoing opportunities. It may be a well-attended organized event, or it can be a small act of kindness extended for a thousand different reasons.   

Jesus mentioned the blessing of giving even a cup of water in his name. Scripture is clear that helping others is our responsibility. Sometimes I forget it’s also a privilege. It’s not hard to visualize Christ wearing a tee-shirt like the ones Scout has donned for each walk.

The silhouette of a soldier with a comrade draped across his shoulder needs no explanation. But printed on the shirt is a question each of us should consider. It’s the same query an old veteran asked a Navy SEAL loaded down with a heavy backpack. “Who are you carrying?”