The Glenwood Springs Elks Lodge 2286 steps in to save the Memorial Day ceremony at Rosebud Cemetery, revitalizing the tradition with help from local Boy Scouts and community leaders.

Memorial Day at Rosebud Cemetery won’t just survive this year. It will thrive.
That’s the counterintuitive takeaway from a tradition that nearly died on the vine. For decades, the American Legion Garfield Post 83 held the line. They planted flags. They fired rifles. They played taps. Then the membership aged. The numbers dropped. Last year, a single member realized he was the last one standing. He canceled. The tradition hung by a thread.
Now, the Glenwood Springs Elks Lodge 2286 has stepped in. Mike Harman, a past exalted ruler, and Jim Drolet kept the lights on. They didn’t just save the ceremony; they revitalized it.
“The more people I can get involved in this, the happier I am,” Harman said.
This isn’t just about preserving a ritual. It’s about proving that local institutions can pivot when the old guard fades. The Elks didn’t wait for a grant. They didn’t wait for a committee vote. They saw a gap and filled it. Harman called last year’s event “incredible” and “very heartwarming.” That’s not press-release fluff. That’s the result of two men deciding that a community ritual was worth their time.
The ceremony returns Monday at 11 a.m. American flags will mark graves. The flag will rise. A rifle salute will crack the air. Taps will sound. But the real story is who’s holding the line now.
Last year, the Glenwood Springs Boy Scout Troop 225 sat out. Organizers were scrambling. They didn’t have the manpower. This year, the scouts are back. Harman made it clear: “If they were involved before, they need to be involved.” It benefits the youth. It strengthens the community. It secures the future.
Garfield County Commissioner Perry Will will be there. He’s attended in the past. He’ll attend again. Will sees this as more than a parade. He sees it as a necessary pause. “It’s a day of remembrance out of 365 days,” he said. “Recognizes the sacrifice people have made for our country.”
That’s the hard fact. Freedom isn’t free. It costs lives. It costs families. It costs the quiet dignity of a cemetery on a Monday morning. Will notes that seeing young and old generations together reflects gratitude. It’s a tangible display of respect. No speeches. No politics. Just presence.
The Elks’ Veterans Committee isn’t stopping here. They have a focus on veteran-related programs in the region. This ceremony fits their mission. It’s not a one-off charity event. It’s a sustained commitment. Harman said, “We don’t want to let this die and not be a presentation for our community anymore.”
That’s the stakes. If the Elks hadn’t stepped up, Rosebud Cemetery would have been quiet. Just graves. Just wind. No flags. No taps. No community. The decline of the American Legion’s local post was real. The aging membership was a structural problem, not a temporary blip. The Elks didn’t just patch the hole. They reinforced the foundation.
Locals know this ground. They know the weight of the silence. They know the value of a tradition that doesn’t demand attention but commands respect. The shift from Legion to Elks isn’t a takeover. It’s a handoff. A reliable one.
Harman and Drolet proved that leadership isn’t about titles. It’s about showing up when no one else will. The scouts are back. The flags are ready. The rifles are loaded.
The short version? The tradition is secure. For now.





