Bardwell WWI service flag Guest post by Meguey Baker
Collections Assistant, Hatfield Historical Museum
The idea of social grief, that we are or could be united by loss, was an important part of the makeup of the 20th century. Yesterday in the Hatfield Historical Museum we inventoried the flags and banners from our textile collection. There are many, but the one that stopped me was this one: the World War I Service flag for Homer Bardwell and Curtis Bardwell (below).
These flags were used to signify the homes of people in the military. A blue star was for a person serving, a gold star was for a person who had died in service, a gold cross for a person injured in service. Some homes had one star, others had several. All of them helped those passing by to understand that this family was thinking of someone far away, possibly in harm’s way. This helped form a community and support for families if anything in the news was cause for alarm. If a family had a blue star and then it was replaced with a gold star, everyone knew what had happened. Everyone could be extra considerate and compassionate with the grieving family.
Collections Assistant, Hatfield Historical Museum
The idea of social grief, that we are or could be united by loss, was an important part of the makeup of the 20th century. Yesterday in the Hatfield Historical Museum we inventoried the flags and banners from our textile collection. There are many, but the one that stopped me was this one: the World War I Service flag for Homer Bardwell and Curtis Bardwell (below).
These flags were used to signify the homes of people in the military. A blue star was for a person serving, a gold star was for a person who had died in service, a gold cross for a person injured in service. Some homes had one star, others had several. All of them helped those passing by to understand that this family was thinking of someone far away, possibly in harm’s way. This helped form a community and support for families if anything in the news was cause for alarm. If a family had a blue star and then it was replaced with a gold star, everyone knew what had happened. Everyone could be extra considerate and compassionate with the grieving family.
19th century mourning wear Also recently in the museum, we inventoried all of the hats, including an entire box of black mourning wear. Black hats, black bonnets with long black veils, black ribbon collars, dull black bands and black net shawls. There was a whole system of mourning wear, from deepest black through dark purple to lavender to gray and white. Colors would return as you felt able or after commonly accepted lengths of time. Whole industries grew up around this, with whole methods of fabric production. Mourning wear served the same purpose for grieving individuals that blue star and gold star flags served for families. Beyond the message to people passing by the house, this mourning wear alerted everyone you interacted with throughout your day that you were in grief, and to perhaps be understanding if you took a little more time to do a simple task, or suddenly teared up for no clear reason.
Ruth Withun Lord, died 2007 I miss this. A dozen years ago, my family went through a long hard period of loss. In 18 months, I lost three grandparents (including my grandmother at left), my father-in-law, and two brothers-in-law. I remember standing at the counter at the gas station, trying to complete the exchange, and wishing so very much that I could be wearing a black mourning band or veil so that people would know, without me having to tell them, that I was bearing up under the pain of loss, and they might be more patient with me. I wanted to see other people around town wearing black or sober clothes, to have some sense of not being alone in the depths of my grief. Even if I did not know them, to have seen other people walking around with clear signifiers of loss and grief would have been a tremendous comfort.
We want comforting when we are grieving, and we want to know we are not alone when we are feeling so bereft. During many of our nation’s wars, the names of the injured and dead were published in the local papers, and buildings and people were visibly marked by loss. We have in our collective memory black-draped hearses and Jackie Kennedy in a black hat and sheer black veil, flag-draped coffins and candle-light vigils. Maybe sometime we will again have a way for people to convey their personal grief with the same simple wordless dignity that a WWI Service flag or a black armband gave to those in decades past. For now, let us remember that no matter what people are wearing, some of those we see each day are suffering great loss and none of us are or need to be alone in our sorrow.
We want comforting when we are grieving, and we want to know we are not alone when we are feeling so bereft. During many of our nation’s wars, the names of the injured and dead were published in the local papers, and buildings and people were visibly marked by loss. We have in our collective memory black-draped hearses and Jackie Kennedy in a black hat and sheer black veil, flag-draped coffins and candle-light vigils. Maybe sometime we will again have a way for people to convey their personal grief with the same simple wordless dignity that a WWI Service flag or a black armband gave to those in decades past. For now, let us remember that no matter what people are wearing, some of those we see each day are suffering great loss and none of us are or need to be alone in our sorrow.
Author
Meguey Baker studied early American textile history and material culture at Hampshire College. She is a member of the Mohawk Trail Quilt Guild, on the board of the Historical Society of Greenfield, and does textile repair and conservation for private clients.
