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It happens every Memorial Day.
Camera in hand, I go to the ceremony at the Healing Field bound and determined not to get misty eyed during the service.
After all, I’m a working, impartial journalist there to report and photograph, not participate.
Then someone says or does something that gets me going, my throat gets a lump and I have to pretend I have a speck of dirt in my eye.
This year was no different. I was fine for a while, snapping photos of praying and saluting veterans and their families while trying not to detract from the ceremony.
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