Vietnam War vet Stephen Corson recalls his service, cites the meaning behind Memorial Day

One solemn purpose

DELMAR – Stephen Corson has respectfully turned the role down many times before, but come next Monday, he will finally serve as grand marshal when the Bethlehem Memorial Day parade steps off on May 27.

The U.S. Navy veteran served two tours in the Vietnam War after enlisting in the U.S. Navy on July 7, 1970. Before his military career ended in 1974, he reached the rank of Petty Officer Third Class. It was “a short but honorable military career,” he said. He has counted it down to the day: 3 years, 11 months, and 7 days, to be exact.

His name hangs over Delaware Avenue, the town’s Main Street. An aged color portrait captures him in time on one of more than 100 Bethlehem Honors banners hung across town by the local Veterans of Foreign Wars post. It shows him staring off into the distance in his blue dungarees with a pair of earphones strapped over his red hair.

“It was the only time I ever had a tan in my life,” said the fair-skinned Corson.

The parade’s procession will march underneath the banner as it approaches Delmar’s Four Corners. While the day is often accentuated by flag-waving and candy tossed to children along the parade path, Corson is focused on the meaning behind it all.

“We observe Memorial Day to honor the ultimate sacrifice of the many men and women who served our country and did not return to friends and loved ones,” Corson said.

North Pacific

Corson was a swimmer, competing collegiately for SUNY New Paltz in 1970. He was earning “pretty good” grades under the shadow of the Sky Top Tower, but after a few years, he felt like he was “spinning his wheels.” He then saw a U.S. Navy poster promising the world. “I just felt that I was wasting my time,” he said, “so I decided, ‘let’s have an adventure.’” The recruiter liked that he was a distance swimmer, strong in the water. Soon after, a 20-year-old Corson was on a prop plane, preparing to land on the U.S.S. Hancock as part of Admiral Elmo R. Zumwalt’s Navy in the North Pacific.

Landing a plane on a moving runway isn’t easy, as Corson learned as a passenger. The giant aircraft carrier looked like a postage stamp against the vast blue ocean. Three arresting cables stretched across the ship’s flight deck. They’re designed to catch the hook that dangles from the end of an incoming plane. When it works, the plane comes to an immediate stop. When it doesn’t work, as happened when Corson was flying into his assignment, the pilot sends the engines screaming in a rushed attempt to avoid a sudden swim. After the plane whisked up, banked around, and touched ground for a safe landing, Corson expressed his gratitude with some youthful exuberance.

“Thank you, sir. Can we do it again?”

Strong in the water he may have been, but his assignment often found him perched above the flight deck in a director, tracking aerial targets to the ship’s gun mounts. His other duties involved getting mixed in with the chaos on the flight deck, transporting bombs to and from aircraft to the weapons bay seven flights down. His earphones protected his ears from the roar of jet engines. Communication required sign language. Everyone’s safety depended on each crewman doing what they were supposed to do and being where they had to be.

But his favorite job required him to be in that perch, tracking weather balloons released to float up into the night sky.

“The sky would be just brilliant,” Corson recalled. At night, the inside of the carrier would be washed in red light. But outside, if no sorties were launched, the only lights he would see were provided by the cosmos. He’d fix the radar onto the balloon as it ascended into the heavens, aiming to hold on for 20 minutes before it popped.

“There are billions and billions of stars out there. It’s just a show every night,” he recalled. Though he counted the days to the end of his tours—two of them—he said it wasn’t wasted time.

“I’d love to turn the clock back,” he said. “If I had a time machine, I’d go back.”

Decoration Day

The tradition of honoring fallen soldiers in the United States dates back to the aftermath of the Civil War. The immense loss of life during this conflict led communities across the country to seek ways to pay tribute to those who had died in service.

Decoration Day, the precursor to Memorial Day, emerged from these efforts. The origins of Decoration Day are somewhat diffuse, with multiple towns and cities claiming to be the first to hold such ceremonies. One of the earliest documented observances took place in Charleston, South Carolina, on May 1, 1865, when a group of freed slaves and Union soldiers gathered to honor Union soldiers who had died in captivity. They cleaned up a mass grave site, built a fence around it, and held a procession.

Another notable early observance occurred in Waterloo, New York, on May 5, 1866. This event, organized by local druggist Henry C. Welles and General John B. Murray, involved decorating the graves of soldiers with flowers and flags, a practice now central to the day’s activities.

In 1868, General John A. Logan, the commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic, an organization of Union veterans, issued a proclamation calling for a nationwide day of remembrance. He designated May 30 as Decoration Day, a date chosen because it was not the anniversary of any specific battle. On that first national observance, General James Garfield delivered a speech at Arlington National Cemetery, after which participants decorated the graves of more than 20,000 Union and Confederate soldiers.

For many years, Decoration Day was primarily associated with honoring those who died in the Civil War. However, after World War I, the scope of the day broadened to include American military personnel who died in all wars. This shift marked the beginning of the transformation of Decoration Day into Memorial Day.

In 1968, Congress passed the Uniform Monday Holiday Act, establishing Memorial Day as the last Monday in May to create a three-day weekend for federal employees. This change was enacted in 1971, when Memorial Day was declared a federal holiday. The act aimed to provide a convenient day off but also encouraged Americans to remember the sacrifices of the military.

Memorial Day is a time for reflection and remembrance. Ceremonies are held at cemeteries and memorials, and many people visit the graves of loved ones to place flowers and flags. Though the manner of observance has evolved over the years, the fundamental purpose of the day—to honor and remember those who have given their lives in service to the country—remains unchanged.

Our town

In Bethlehem, the VFW visits four different cemeteries to lay flags at the graves of veterans. The American Legion also lays flags with the help of local Boy Scout and Girl Scout troops. On the morning of Memorial Day, the VFW and American Legion observe intimate services to honor the fallen.

The parade procession steps off from the Blanchard-Currey Legion Post 1040 in Elsmere. From there, community groups representing the Boy Scouts, Little League, the gardening club, and more continue down Elsmere Avenue, passing the Bethlehem Cemetery as they turn onto Kenwood Avenue. For generations, they have meandered around important landmarks that define the hometown: the former high school, now Bethlehem Central Middle School, and three churches: St. Stephen’s Episcopal, St. Thomas the Apostle, and Delmar Reformed.

Some places have changed names and purposes over the years. The old library once stood where the Stram Center now resides on 90 Adams Place. The seat of town government used to be just down the street in the Adams House on Delaware Avenue. Bethlehem Chabad calls it home now. It’s also where the Delmar Fire Department was founded back in 1911.

The parade continues through Four Corners and ends with poignant words shared by local leaders at the Bethlehem Veterans Memorial Park.

Stephen Corson is a member of the Blanchard-Currey Legion Post 1040 in Bethlehem, where he and his wife, Christine, have called home for nearly 50 years. Together, they raised three children: Steve, Tim, and Rebecca. With help from the G.I. Bill and additional funding from the state, he followed a dream he had since he was 10 years old. He enrolled at the Albany College of Pharmacy and Health Sciences, earned his degree and later became a pharmacist.

Stephen’s two sons became a Ph.D. and an economist, respectively. His daughter, however, followed him to sea. He’s proud of all three of them, he said, but she has exceeded him in every way. She is a commander with the United States Coast Guard, and once she is done, he said, she will travel the world before setting anchor in Spain.

Stephen said he looks forward to serving as grand marshal in this year’s parade. He had turned down the opportunity several times before, passing the honor to someone he felt was more deserving. But when Blanchard-Currey Legion Post 1040 Commander Jeremy Martelle asked him earlier this year, Stephen finally accepted. The weight of his duty is not lost on him.

“I am here for one solemn purpose: to represent those who cannot speak,” he said. “I am here for Timothy Moshier and Shawn Martin, and brave town members too many to mention.”

The post Vietnam War vet Stephen Corson recalls his service, cites the meaning behind Memorial Day first appeared on Spotlight News .