Great care is given to maintain Doyle Cemetery as befits a shrine honoring our Nation's service members.

VERNON-Kevin Farley doesn't think he's asking for much. Just a grave site for his parents in New Jersey's veteran's cemetery that doesn't flood every time there's a heavy rain. After four years of trying, four years of writing letters and making phone calls and calling on state and federal lawmakers and offials, he can't get it. Installing drains to eliminate the flooding that affects the section of the cemetery in which Farley's parents are buried would cost $108,000, according to figures provided him by the cemetery staff. Officials say they don't have that much money. Yet, says Farley, citing recent news reports, Adj. Gen. Glenn Reith, the head of the state military and veterans affairs, recently spent more than that to decorate his Trenton office. Assembly Republican Leader Alex DeCroce called Reith's spending "lavish," and said it is inappropriate "while their troops are fighting in the desert." "It's a shame," says Farley, a respiratory therapist who lives in Vernon. "It's a disgrace to veterans and their families." The cemetery is New Jersey's only one for veterans. Located in Wrightstown in Central Jersey, it is named for Brigadier Gen. William C. Doyle, the man who was the driving force behind securing a resting place in home soil for the state's veterans. Opened in 1986, it is run by the the N.J. Department of Military and Veterans Affairs and claims to be the busiest cemetery in the country with 15 burials a day. Farley's father, Vincent, wanted to be buried there, and, when he died in 1996, his son honored his wish. Vincent's wife is buried beside him. Vincent Farley was part of what Tom Brokaw called "the greatest generation." He went to war, fought against Hitler's armies in Germany, came home, got a job, raised a family and never complained. All his life, says Kevin, "he was proud to be a veteran." The cemetery is a huge, sprawling place, divided into sections designated by letters. Burials started in Section A and continued across the landscape, filling one section and opening another. When Vincent Farley died, burials were being made in Section L, a low swatch at the bottom of a hill covered with the flat granite stones and bronze markers, identical but for the names and dates on them, that are provided with every grave. Burial in the cemetery is a right of all veterans. Interment and grave markers are paid by the state. There is no choice of plot; you get the one next to the last one filled. That was find with Kevin Farley, and for five years, he had no cause to complain. Then, in 2001, he made his annual visit his parents' final resting place on a day when there had been a heavy rain. Farley was shocked to find his parents' grave and perhaps 50 others covered in three to four inches of water. Farley went to the cemetery offices to ask for an explanation. He went back to the grave to wait for someone to join him. He waited more than an hour. "Finally, someone came out, walking across the gravestones to keep from getting his feet wet," Farley said. Farley let more than a year go by before writing to Reith. On Jan. 3, he got a letter from the general that said, "I can assure you that corrective action will be taken as soon as the weather permits. . .let me assure you that conditions permitting, we will work on your parents' grave until it meets an acceptable standard." Farley was encouraged, but soon found that nothing was done to alleviate the problem. The tone of communications also changed. On Feb. 26, 2003, a deputy commissioner for veterans affairs pointed out that the Farleys' aren't the only ones buried in the cemetery. "For the busiest state cemetery in the nation, with more than 230 acres of land and with more than 27,000 veterans interred, this is a significant challenge," the letter said. By June of last year, talk of fixing Section L had cooled considerably. Instead, officials assured Farley that Section O, which was then being opened for burials, had been fitted with a drainage system before being put into service. "What does Section O have to do with this?" Farley wondered. Farley started writing to his representatives in Washington and Trenton as well as to national military officials. The people in Washington told him it wasn't their cemetery. Those in Trenton told him to talk to the cemetery officials. They told him to talk to Trenton. He took pictures, shot videotapes and sent them to everyone he could think of and still got no response. If it was a problem, no one wanted to deal with it. "Unfortunately, this cemetery is the busiest cemetery in the United States," said Robert Pinto, the state adjutant for the Veterans of Foreign War, who also have no jurisdiction over the cemetery. "We don't like to see this either. I'm sure the cemetery's aware of it, but they have to get the money to fix it; they can't keep up with the number of people being buried there." Officials from the cemetery did not return a phone call, but they had already told Farley more than a year ago what he could do about the problem. "Short of disinterring your parents and moving them to a private cemetery, there is no reasonable solution to these circumstances." Farley doesn't think $108,000 is unreasonable. Having failed to get action through private contact, he's decided to take his fight public. He's also circulating petitions in local VFWs and American Legion halls. He estimates he's collected more than 500 signatures in just a few weeks. "Don't our soldiers deserve better than flooded graves?" the cover page of the petitions reads. "Please stand up against this disgrace. Please help."