Jennifer and Keith Raiche marched slowly to the top of the hill overlooking the New Hampshire State Veterans Cemetery.
The sun had sunk behind the trees, and as the bell chimed seven times, Jennifer raised a bugle to her lips. Keith joined in for a duet of “Amazing Grace.” Then, he stepped to the other side of the hill and faced the back of the cemetery.
The 24 resolute notes of “Taps” rang out across the otherwise silent, sprawling green.
From Memorial Day to Sept. 11, volunteers like the Raiches travel to the cemetery in Boscawen to play the tribute song to fallen soldiers. They play at 7 p.m. for 100 nights, rain or shine, every summer.
The 100 Nights of Remembrance began in 2007 with members of the Muchachos Drum and Bugle Corps, including the Raiches. This year’s series of bugle performances, the 19th annual program, conclude on Thursday evening on the 24th anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks.
The Raiches aren’t veterans, and the 7 p.m. call time is usually bedtime for the Manchester couple, who both wake up at 2 a.m. for work each day. Every Tuesday, however, they stay up and make the trip to Boscawen for the short and simple service.
“It’s just our way of giving back, and we also know it means so much to the people that come here just to hear it,” Jennifer said.
The Raiches’ performance on Tuesday drew a sparse crowd of about half a dozen people, who stood silently at the edges of the main monument. It was their last performance of the summer, marked by clear skies, a few trees with yellow-tipped leaves and a gentle autumn breeze. One man saluted as the bugle call echoed through the cemetery.
Despite having no family buried at the veterans’ cemetery, Yolanda Jones, a Concord resident, has visited several times a week for the past nine years to walk around and listen to “Taps.”
Originally from Texas, Jones thinks of her multiple siblings who served in the military, including one brother who died in the Vietnam War, when the bugle song plays.
He’s always at the top of her mind when she hears “Taps,” as is the family he left behind.
“Because I’m from Houston and I can’t go there, coming here is my way of remembering and honoring them,” Jones said.
Lee Hirtle, an Air Force veteran and retired State Police officer from Northfield, has participated in the memorial since it began in 2007.
At the start, there must’ve been 50 buglers on call to staff it every night, Hirtle recalled.
That number has dwindled, and Shawn Buck, director of the State Veterans Cemetery, said they’re struggling to ensure there is a live bugler every night.
It’s an important service, he said, to honor veterans with a live rendition of “Taps.” When it’s played over speakers, it’s still moving but “just not quite the same.”
A veteran himself, Buck said he feels a “somber pride” when he hears it. He thinks about the fallen soldiers he’s known over the years, and he reflects on the idea that his family will hear “Taps” at his own funeral someday.
“It’s an invitation to grieve, to sort of let it all out, so to speak,” Buck said. “It’s a prideful song.”
Hirtle, who plays many of the funerals at the veterans cemetery and multiple nights a week during the summer, decided to get involved years ago when he attended a funeral with “Taps” emitting from a CD player hidden behind a gravestone. That irritated him.
“They don’t deserve that,” Hirtle said. “They deserve a live bugler. They deserve somebody who goes through the effort to do that.”
He fished the trumpet he hadn’t touched since college out of his basement, reacquainted himself with the instrument and played his first funeral in 2007.
Today, Hirtle has performed “Taps” nearly 7,000 times.
Many of his performances are distinct in his mind — many have been for his own friends’ funerals — but he tries to make it the best he can for each family, each observer, each time.
“I’m just trying to do it justice and make sure that the families can hear it, and hopefully I don’t make a mistake,” he said.
He’s watched “Taps” elicit many emotions among observers over the years. It carries a meaningful weight: one of honor, of reverence and of gratitude.
“Once the music starts,” Hirtle said, “everything sort of lets loose.”
