Flag display connects community to its veterans.

Story and Photos by Katie Knapp

On a damp May morning, about 55 junior high students fan out across a half-mile walking path at Stoner Park in Henry, Ill. They unroll flags, straighten poles, and clip nameplates into place—more than 1,200 of them, each honoring a community member who served in the armed forces.

One student pauses at a plaque. "Hey, remember this guy?" he calls out. "He's the duck guy." Charles Perdew—a local veteran and wildlife artist who carved duck callers and decoys—is now known to another generation by name.

This annual ritual has repeated ahead of every Memorial Day for 20 years, ever since Joe Thornton designed the display as his Eagle Scout project in 2005. He was 16 years old.

"I don't think I really realized, at such a young age, what the magnitude of this would be," Joe says. "I think I was young enough to just not really realize how much the military is connected to so many people."

The idea came from a similar display in his mom's hometown of Sheffield, Ill. Joe thought it would be neat to replicate in Henry. His parents, Jim and Mary Jane Thornton, helped him navigate the logistics—sourcing PVC pipes, drilling holes, coordinating volunteers. The first Memorial Day in 2005 featured 148 flags.

"There was a lot of skepticism that I could pull it off," Joe admits. But by the second year, the project had taken on a life of its own. 

Community members lined up to add names. Veterans' families wanted to be involved in setup. The American Legion Post 323 and Boy Scout Troop 74 became permanent partners.

"Generally, Eagle Scout projects are completed and then they're done, like a roof repair or a park bench," Joe says. "This is kind of the never-ending project." 

Today, Mary Jane Thornton coordinates what she calls "the Eagle Scout project that keeps giving." As a retired teacher, she currently has more time for all the details than Joe does. "The Veterans' Walk is a true testament to the patriotism of our community," she says proudly.

A well-oiled machine. The flag display is up from Memorial Day through the Fourth of July each year—and requires careful orchestration.

PVC pipes are permanently installed in the ground along the walking path. Volunteers haul out the flags and nameplates, matching each flag to its designated spot in chronological order of conflict. Then they set them upright, careful not to damage the flags or bend the nameplates. At roughly $8.50 a piece, replacements add up.

Each flag requires a connection to Henry—someone who lived there, went to school there, or has family there. Families can request a flag for a loved one who served or is currently serving, and the Thorntons verify eligibility before adding new names to the roster.

"Everybody knows a veteran, or has one in their family," Joe says. "It touches everybody." 

Help from the junior high students has become a tradition of its own. Teachers bring sixth, seventh, and eighth graders to help with setup, and the students take it seriously.

"I don't think we've ever had a junior high group do this as fast and as well as you guys," Mary Jane told the 2025 group.

Some students search for relatives' names. Others make unexpected connections to local history, like recognizing Charles Perdew from a fourth-grade field trip to his museum. The work is manual labor, yes, but it is also a living lesson.

More than a name. Joe went on to serve in the Army, stationed in Savannah, Ga. One of the 1,200-plus flags now honors him. Having served, he understands the display's impact differently than he did as a teenager.

"Family members will come out and see their loved one's flag, and they'll break down into tears," he says. "That recognition isn't generally something we're really needing, but it's definitely appreciated."

He hopes other communities will adopt something similar to honor those who have served. 

"That's kind of the goal—that other communities would pick it up and do a version of their own," Joe says. "Something that shows a level of appreciation for veterans."

Walking the path when they are done with the setup for the 2025 season, Joe's dad Jim Thornton, who is also a veteran says, "There is kind of a feeling. I can't explain it." 

The flags stand at attention along Stoner Park's walking path, each one a quiet thank-you to someone who served. The weight of so many names—so many lives—becomes tangible, row after row, for a half mile.