The grim and ancient sabre stood brooding in the back of my grandparents’ closet and as a little boy it frightened me. Though it seemed forever caught up in memories of the past, this artifact of the Civil War possessed a palpable aura of death even though a century had passed since it had last been wielded in battle.

Because both of his grandfathers had served in the war, my grandfather Russ was very interested in that conflict. That war seemed to mark the starting point for my family – my grandfather had other, less threatening memorabilia tucked away in drawers and attics, scattered remainders preserved from our ancestors’ first days on the prairie. As a child I enjoyed looking at these relics (except for the sabre) — they gave me a greater sense of where I came from.

There was hardly anything to be found, though, from before the time of the Civil War. It was as if the men who brought the various branches of my family here had seceded from the lives they’d known before that conflict. Maybe doing so helped them forget the suffering they’d experienced. All we knew of the Hosfords, for example, was that they had come from Connecticut and had for a time corresponded with family there. But those names and addresses had long ago vanished. We had become orphans, castaways on the prairie forgotten by and forgetful of what had come before.

So it meant a lot to me in July when a historian, Virginia Shultz-Charette from Winsted, Connecticut, emailed me. It seems that’s where my grandfather’s grandfather had lived before the war and she was tracking down descendants of all the men from Winsted who had served. Their names are inscribed on a marble monument and this past weekend saw its rededication 125 years after it was first installed.

I would have loved to attend but couldn’t. My new historian friend, however, graciously invited me to send a few words for her to read during the ceremonies.

But what to say? I realized I needed to speak for my Civil War ancestors, to say something relevant to both then and now. I came up with this, and hope it added something to the occasion.

My great-great grandfather, William Hosford, was one of the earliest settlers in Boone County, Nebraska, and I live only a few miles from where he homesteaded. He lived out his life here and worked tirelessly to promote education, the arts, and a concern for social justice on this frontier. But first and foremost he was a proud veteran of Litchfield County’s “Old Nineteenth” and was forever married to the ideals of freedom and justice the men of that regiment held so dear.

Today, as our nation once again confronts racial division, the rededication of this memorial reminds us that the men whose names appear upon it were willing to give their lives for the cause of freedom. And though their sacrifice freed the slaves, the struggle for justice never ends. It rests with us, their descendants, to carry on their work, and this monument serves as a reminder that such struggles, though never easy, are worth the effort.

I commend all those who have made this rededication possible and regret that I cannot be with you to celebrate a heritage of commitment and courage.   We are the inheritors of a just and noble legacy, and I have faith that for as long as this memorial stands, it will serve as a reminder that that which is best within us can – and has — overcome that which is worst.