On May 23, 1921, President Warren G. Harding went to Pier 3 in Hoboken, N.J., to pay tribute to the 5,000 bodies that had just arrived on the funeral ship USAT Wheaton.
"These dead know … nothing of the sentiment or the tenderness which brings their wasted bodies to the homeland, for burial close to kin and friends and cherished associations," he said. "These poor bodies are but the clay tenements … of souls, which flamed in patriotic devotion, [and] lighted new hopes on the battlegrounds of civilization."
From The Washington Post newspaper; Sunday 30 May 2021
After World War I, U.S. families were asked if they wanted their dead brought home. Forty thousand said yes.
Michael Ruane author
THE POEM HEARD 'ROUND THE WORLD
(Written by Miss Frances Angermayer* in Kansas City June 8, 1943
and printed in the Kansas City Star February 4, 1945)
*Find a Grave Memorial 225801451
An in-depth story was in the Kansas City Star on APRIL 18, 2021
BY JOANNA MARSH KANSAS CITY PUBLIC LIBRARY
Look God I have never spoken to You-
But now - I want to say "how do You do".
You see God they told me You didn't exist-
And like a fool - I believed all of this.
Last night from a shell hole I saw Your sky-
I figured right then they had told me a lie.
Had I taken time to see the things You made,
I'd known they weren't calling a spade a spade.
I wonder, God if You'd shake my hand.
Somehow - I feel that You will understand.
Funny - I had to come to this hellish place,
Before I had the time to see Your Face.
Well, I guess there isn't much more to say,
But I'm sure glad, God, I met You today.
I guess the "zero hour" will soon be here,
But I'm not afraid since I know You're near.
The signal - Well, God - I'll have to go.
I like You lots - This I want You to know -
Look, now - this will be a horrible fight -
Who knows - I may come to Your House tonight -
Though I wasn't friendly with You before,
I wonder, God - if You'd wait at your Door -
Look - I'm crying! Me! - Shedding tears! -
I wish I'd known You these many years -
Well I will have to go now God, - good-by,
Strange - since I met You - I'm not afraid to die.
Our genetics are amazing . . while we all live our life as an individual entity . . all the hopes and dreams of our existence are within us . .yet we are but clones of ancestors that lived their lives before us . .
Quote from "lands" by @nayyirah.waheed:
my first country;
the first place i ever lived.
When people keep themselves apart in mutual disdain.
A truth is hidden from the heart.
Their goals are much the same.
Johann Wolfgang Goethe
Human beings are members of a whole,
in creation of one essence and soul.
If one member is afflicted with pain,
other members uneasy will remain.
If you have no sympathy for human pain,
the name of human you cannot retain.
These verses from Sa'adi's Bani Adam decorate the walls of the United Nations building in New York.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
For The Fallen(excerpt)
Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
"Do not regret growing old. It is a privilege denied to many."
from LaDon Brennan (#46902635) profile page
Copied from Sue Ann Hornung David FAG contributor # 47567877
One Final Gift
Scatter me not to restless winds
Nor toss my ashes to the sea.
Remember now those years gone by....
When loving gifts I gave to thee.
Remember now the happy times....
The family ties we shared
Don't leave my resting place unmarked
As though you never cared.
Deny me not one final gift
For all who come to see....
A single lasting proof that says
I loved....and you loved me.
by D. J. Kramer
Copied from: Larry Lagut Find a Grave ID 47613611
COINS LEFT ON TOMBSTONES
While visiting some cemeteries you may notice that headstones marking certain graves have coins on them, left by previous visitors to the grave.
These coins have distinct meanings when left on the headstones of those who gave their life while serving in America's military, and these meanings vary depending on the denomination of coin.
A coin left on a headstone or at the grave site is meant as a message to the deceased soldier's family that someone else has visited the grave to pay respect.
Leaving a penny at the grave means simply that you visited. A nickel indicates that you and the deceased trained at boot camp together, while a dime means you served with him in some capacity. By leaving a quarter at the grave, you are telling the family that you were with the solider when he was killed.
According to tradition, the money left at graves in national cemeteries and state veterans cemeteries is eventually collected, and the funds are put toward maintaining the cemetery or paying burial costs for indigent.
Grief never ends,
but it changes.
It is a passage,
not a place to stay.
Grief is not a sign of
weakness or lack of faith...
it is the price of love.
The words above are thought to be based on a eulogy Queen Elizabeth made for her sister Princess Margaret.
"Not to know what happened before we were born is to remain perpetually a child. For what is the worth of a human life unless it is woven into the life of our ancestors by the records of history."
-Cicero (106 - 43 B.C.)
For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity. ~ William Penn
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory."
Leonard Nimoy 1931 - 2015
We inherit from our ancestors gifts so often taken for granted. Each of us contains within ... this inheritance of soul. We are links between the ages, containing past and present expectations, sacred memories, and future promises.
"Do not pity the dead, pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love."
~A Poem for our Ancestors~
Your tombstone stands among the rest
Neglected and alone
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished marble stone
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn
You did not know that I exist
You died and I was born
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood and bone
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so
I wonder if you lived and loved
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot
And come to visit you
In the eastern United States you can often "discover" old cemeteries by the daffodils.
Daffodils are not a feast for deer, they multiply and spread on their own and were often the flower of choice to plant at grave sites.
And I love the sunny, bright daffodil, reminding me the long winter will soon be over and I can get out again to seek and document ancestors - both my own and for others living too distant to be there in person.
If I have "planted" a daffodil on a memorial, it is one which I have directly touched or made an addition.
"Remember me in the family tree, my name, my days, my strife; then I'll ride upon the wings of time and live an endless life."
Search memorial contributions by Gaye Hill