Green-Wood Cemetery #3

June 2015...

This is my last post about my visit to Green-Wood Cemetery.

As I visited the highest point in Brooklyn and site of the first official battle of the Revolutionary War, I was surprised to find the beautiful statue "Minerva" apparently waving/ saluting "her sister" Liberty nearly 4 miles away!

Minerva...

Minerva was the Roman goddess of Wisdom...which included music, poetry, medicine, and the arts.

In 1920, Charles M. Higgins, decided to build an altar on Battle Hill to memorialize the first major battle after the Declaration of Independence. He chose to adorn the hill with a statue of Minerva. He made sure that Minerva faced Lady Liberty (erected in 1886) and her upraised torch.

Too me...a wonderful reminder that much liberty must be accompanied with much wisdom and much wisdom must be accompanied with much liberty.

Green-Wood Cemetery #2

June 2015...

This is my second post about my visit to Green-Wood Cemetery.

The highest point (~220 feet) in Brooklyn, NY is found at Battle Hill in modern day Green-Wood Cemetery.  This is the location of the first battle of the Revolutionary War after the United States declared independence on July 4, 1776. This (The Battle of Long Island...which we lost) was also the largest battle of the entire war in terms of troop deployment and fighting. The fighting on Battle Hill was especially brutal, with the Americans inflicting the highest number of casualties against British troops of the entire battle...if you stand and study long enough you can imagine the British attacking and the Americans valiantly attempting to defend the high ground.

As General George Washington watched the bloodshed that day he cried in despair, "“Good God... What brave fellows I must this day lose!”

Green-Wood Cemetery #1

Green - Wood Cemetery - Brooklyn, New York

June 2015...

I doubt that many people would find a cemetery to be an exciting place...but in my opinion, for a lover of history Green-Wood Cemetery is only surpassed by the likes of Arlington, Gettysburg, Andersonville, Pearl Harbor, and Normandy.

Green-Wood Cemetery occupies the highest elevation in Brooklyn (~200 feet) on nearly 500 acres and holds 600,000 bodies in a beautiful setting of rolling hills, mature trees, serene ponds, world class sculptures/ works of art, and spectacular architecture.

I will spend the next several posts chronicling my most memorable moments in Green-Wood...

"The Drummer Boy"

Clarence MacKenzie (Brooklyn's first casualty of the Civil War) was 12 years old when he marched off to the Civil War as a drummer boy with Brooklyn’s 13th Regiment. While camped/ resting in Annapolis, Maryland. Unfortunately, he was accidentally killed by a stray bullet fired by soldiers drilling nearby. Clarence is buried in "The Soldiers’ Lot" which Green-Wood donated specifically for Civil War Veterans. His grave is marked with a 10 foot tall “white bronze” monument inscribed: OUR DRUMMER BOY. The proud figure of the boy and his drum in uniform brought me to tears...

The Dead Drummer Boy

Midst tangled roots that lined the wild ravine
Where the fierce fight raged hottest through the day,
And where the dead in scattered heaps were seen,
Amid the darkling forest’s shade and sheen
Speechless in death he lay.

The settling sun, which glanced athwart the place
In slanting lines, like amber-tinted rain,
Fell sidewise on the drummer’s upturned face,
Where death had left his gory finger’s trace
In one bright crimson stain.

The silken fringes of his once bright eye
Lay like a shadow on his cheek so fair;
His lips were parted by a long-drawn sigh,
That with his soul had mounted to the sky
On some wild martial air.

No more his hand the fierce tattoo shall beat,
The shrill reveille, or the long roll’s call,
Or sound the charges, when, in smoke and heat
Of fiery onset, foe with foe shall meet,
And gallant men shall fall.

Yet may be in some happy home, that one,
A mother, reading from the list of dead,
Shall chance to view the name of her dead son,
And move her lips to say, “God’s will be done!”
And bow in grief her head.

But more than this what tongue shall tell his story?
Perhaps his boyish longings were for fame.
He lived, he died; and so memento mori.
Enough if on the page of War and Glory
Some had has writ his name.

"Ha det bra!"

When my grandmother said "goodbye" to us she would often use a Norwegian phrase...

"Ha det bra!" 

Which technically is not a goodbye...it means "Have it good!"  I am especially reminded of this today...the last day of school (a sad & happy day) for the year 2014-15.

In many Native American languages there is no word for "goodbye"...only "see you" or "see you soon". Can a word ever separate the learning, dialogue, and memories we've shared with each other in school this year?

I say "no!"

So since I am not really good at goodbyes, let's just say "Ha det bra!" and "Kill the Jellyfish!"


A Poem written by Mary Tallmountain...

“There Is No Word for Goodbye”

Sokoya, I said, looking through the net of wrinkles into wise black pools of her eyes.

What do you say in Athabascan when you leave each other?

What is the word for goodbye?

A shade of feeling rippled the wind-tanned skin.

Ah, nothing, she said, watching the river flash.

She looked at me close. We just say, Tlaa. That means, “see you.”

We never leave each other.

When does your mouth say goodbye to your heart?

She touched me light as a bluebell.

You forget when you leave us; you're so small then.

We don't use that word.

We always think you're coming back, but if you don't,

we'll see you some place else.

You understand.

There is no word for goodbye.

Duc Nguyen:Killing Agent Orange

Viet and Duc Nguyen ca. 1988

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJxb7CY13uc (story at 12:42 - 16:20)

Viet and Duc Nguyen were born as conjoined twins (as a result of exposure to Agent Orange) in 1981 in the Central Higlands province of Kon Tum in Vietnam. Their family lived/ worked on a farm that had been sprayed with Dioxin, a "nuclear herbicide" often referred to as Agent Orange.

After, Viet and Duc were surgically separated in 1988, Duc's health thrived, he attended school, became a computer programmer, a teacher, and advocates for others who suffer from Agent Orange, disabilities, and other human tragedies. Unfortunately, Viet suffered from chronic and debilitating health issues and passed away in 2007.  Duc shares...

"When I lost my brother I was extremely sad, but now I feel like my brother

 is always beside me, and I know I must think positively."

The United States sprayed 12 million gallons of Dioxin on Vietnam in order to "help fight Communism" in the 1960's and 70's. It has been estimated that Agent Orange has caused millions of Vietnamese (and our own Vietnam Veterans) to suffer/ die from cancer, miscarriages, physical disabilities, birth defects, and myriads of other health issues.

Yet, we do not take responsibility for our "weapon of mass destruction".  Duc opines...

"I find it ironic that on one hand you put Saddam Hussein on trial for using biological warfare, 

but in another country where you sprayed chemicals for warfare, you neglect your responsibility.  

The United States must admit its responsibility and compensate the Agent Orange victims in Vietnam. It is your moral obligation...sooner or later, it has to be done!"

In spite of my anger, I find inspiration and hope in Viet and Duc's lives. 

sự bền chí

Making the most out of life, persevering, helping others, strengthening communities, fighting for accessibility, demanding justice, and loving peace...unfortunately, I pale in comparison to Duc. Let's not give up hope and become mired in our anger and bitterness...let's keep "killing jellyfish" and make this world a better place. I only wish our government and the multinational corporations would have the same motivation!

Duc Nguyen and Family

 "We have all had to let go of sad events and try to move forward positively...

I have to help these less fortunate than I and advocate for peace."

The "Four" Spirits Sculpture

The Four Spirits:Birmingham, Alabama

The telling of history is not history unless it's true...

On September 15, 1963 (just a few weeks after the famous March on Washington/ "I Have A Dream" speech), one of the most horrific and deplorable moments in American history occurred at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama.

A KKK terrorist attack killed 4 young girls and permanently blinded Sarah Collins as they attended services that morning...but, just hours after the bombing 2 young boys (mostly forgotten by history books) also lost their lives. In the aftermath of the attack, hundreds of people poured into the city streets to mourn, comfort each other, protest the attack, etc. while gangs of white youth and adults taunted and harassed  them/ celebrated the bombing with chants like...

"Two, four, six, eight we don't want to integrate."

 Johnny Robinson and Virgil Ware

During these very tense moments, Virgil Ware (shot in the chest while riding the handlebars of his brother's bike) and Johnny Robinson (shot in the back by police as they arrived to "disperse" the crowd) were killed in separate incidents.  Although the murders of Johnny and Virgil were largely overshadowed by the church bombing, they have not been forgotten. 

Finally after 50 years, the "Four Spirits Memorial" has made the history of September 15, 1963 complete!

Symbolism in the statue:

"A Love That Forgives" was the sermon title for church services that day.

Photographs of all six children are engraved on the side of the bench.

Denise reaching skyward with 6 doves/ the souls of their spirits being released to heaven.

Addie Mae lovingly adjusting the bow on Denise's dress.

Cynthia seated on the end of the bench reading/ pondering a book...opened to "The Stolen Child" by W.B. Yeats.

Carole looking back toward her friends as if to say, "we'd better get going...it's time to go to church."

Maybe the empty space on the bench represents the lives of the living parents, siblings, relatives, friends, etc. who would never be the same...

 

Well, I don't know what will happen to me now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But, it really doesn't matter with me now...because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind...like anybody, I would like to live a long life; longevity has its place. But, I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain...and I've looked over...and I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But, I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. So, I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything...I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!

All...

Yesterday, I attended a brief Memorial Day service at the Korean War Memorial in St. Paul...there was a posting of the colors, a reading of the names (738) of Minnesotans who died/ MIA in the Korean War, a speaker (more on him later), the placing of a battle cross, a playing of taps, and a 21 gun salute.

The Battlefield Cross

The most memorable quote from the speakers speech was an oft-quoted epitaph...

"All gave some...some gave all."

I thought about this as I was standing there looking around at the men (and their families) who survived and also gave their tomorrow so we could have our today...and would like you to consider this phrase for those who serve our country...

"All gave...all."

Lest We Forget

A Korean War soldier searching for his fellow soldier...who is missing, but will never be forgotten.