Remembrance
The four chaplains were all awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and the Purple Heart and received national acclaim for their courage and self-sacrifice. A chapel in their honor was dedicated on February 3, 1951 by President Harry S. Truman at Grace Baptist Church in Philadelphia. The Four Chaplains' Medal was established by act of Congress on July 14, 1960, and was presented posthumously to their next of kin by Secretary of the Army Wilber M. Brucker at Ft. Myer, Virginia on January 18, 1961.
Poling is honored with a feast day along with the other Four Chaplains on the liturgical of the Episcopal Church in the United States of America on February 3.
The high point of the town of Deering, NH, formerly known as Wolf Hill (1570 ft.), was renamed Clark Summit in Poling's honor, and a memorial plaque was placed at the summit outlook. "Located on what was once family land, Clark thought this was a peaceful place and would often go there to reflect on big decisions in his life. In fact, it was at Wolf Hill’s summit that Clark decided to become a minister."
Read more about this topic: Clark V. Poling
Famous quotes containing the word remembrance:
“Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand.
[Samson:] Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake
My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint.
At distance I forgive thee, go with that;
Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works
It hath brought forth to make thee memorable
Among illustrious women, faithful wives:
Cherish thy hast’n’d widowhood with the gold
Of Matrimonial treason: so farewel.”
—John Milton (1608–1674)
“Thus I alone, where all my freedom grew,
In prison pine with bondage and restraint;
And with remembrance of the greater grief
To banish the less, I find my chief relief.”
—Henry Howard, Earl Of Surrey (1517?–1547)
“Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night,
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:”
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616)