Dust To Dust
A comment by John Fleming over on AD struck me this morning. I hope he doesn’t mind if I copy his words:
“Some people might like it, conversing with your ghost. But at some point, either your heirs will pull the plug on your echo, or your echo will become so antique that all the new folks are not interested in what you might have said about anything. And then as Gerard says, digital dust to digital dust.“
On occasion, simply heading out in some random direction from a point in the back-country brings surprises. I found this grave somewhere out in the Nevada desert. Nothing much out here but sagebrush, badger holes, and the fading ghosts of lost dreams. Any “town” that might have been nearby had fallen into ruins of less notice than this old iron fence. Any headstone or marker – like the body within – had long returned to that from which it came.
An elaborate fence, someone buried with love, care, and expense – they themselves now gone a few generations ago.
I doubt I could find it again.
But I wonder what was once here; the lives lived, hopes flourishing, a town of future substance being built … being Nevada … on the hopes of some mineral strike that would turn “our town” into a new metropolis.
Then the mines played out.
Genesis 3:19
“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.”
Seems I am always late to the party, DT. Tried steering two Gerard fans to your site but I don’t know if they will read my reply.
Your site seems to be chugging along nicely. Thank you for it. Hope you are feeling better.
Thank you for both – I am feeling better now; just took a bit of time to heal … which seems to take longer these days. 🙂
I know I can’t be Gerard; I’ve neither his personality nor writing skill but this site is an attempt to keep the conversation flowing so to speak. I’ll re-post some of Gerard’s work on a very occasional basis – but not until after AD goes dark and not anything Neo selected for the book. I’ve two of Gerard’s posts lined up already for “sometime”.
I’ll also post (most) contributors’ works – nothing copyrighted or posted elsewhere please; Jean has already submitted several of her writings. I’m willing to post links to articles others may find interesting – maybe not live links (open to abuse) but there for others to check out. Send anything to the email address.
Some music, some of my musings, and probably just photos for inspiration as Neo has done with AD over the past two years. Regardless of viewership levels – which I could hope stays stable (I miss and notice a couple of old regulars have faded away) or increases, the site is up and paid for until at least December so no paid subscriptions.
I don’t want to blacklist anyone even if I don’t agree with their views but I don’t want to get into “transgender issues” – I will delete them – and no personal attacks, direct or indirect. See the “Rules” link just above Gerard’s picture.
I’ll do what I can to make this site something Gerard would have been proud to place on his blogroll and even contribute to.
Unfortunately it looks like the resident criminal around here is trying to steal your handle. 🙁
You are correct. Sorry (real) jd; I may have fixed the problem – we shall see
It’ll be back – it always does.
I am made from the dust of the stars and the oceans flow in my veins.
If I could wave my magic wand….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNLc41ArS-k
Not much more two years before my Dad passed, and at his request, we all went to visit family grave sites in Spencer WV. There are three cemeteries that we visited with one back up in a hollow to where you come across a well kept small church on the mountain. Behind the church is Bartlett Cemetery where the physical elements of many of my blood relatives reside. I did not know any of them. Dad remembered some. I knew many relatives at the other two cemeteries but the one with the family name and many family headstones, I only knew in stories.
About 30 miles south of here is a similar place that my wife and I discovered while driving around. Several hundred feet off the road so I pulled over and walked up it to see what it was all about. Apparently an ol time family plot, most dilapidated now.
There are lots of old run down cemeteries around here andonce when we were walking one we seen a grave with my wife’s maiden last name on it. She took a picture of it and asked her mother about it and indeed it was a family member that died about a 100 years ago.
Here’s the place I described, iron fence, big statue, and all.
https://tinyurl.com/yc4e9yph
Thanks for the shout out DT. Use my musings all you want. Something about the imminent closure of American Digest blog just got to me.
I’ve a recurring theme running in my head these days, the value of mortality. Gerard’s passing helped kick these thoughts into higher gear. I often thought of him as a wise older brother. Now what do I do now that he’s gone beyond?
@John A Fleming I think what we do is ask WWGD. Use what we learned from him and go on.
Through my darkest years he made it possible for me to face another day.
This lonely gravesite photo brought to mind Brock Cemetary north of Greenville, OH, off of US 127 where Annie Oakley is buried. It’s a rather windswept secluded place also, and Oakley’s grave is not a lonesome as the one in the pic DT posted. Still, it is a quiet place out in the middle of farm fields and an interesting place to visit. The tokens on her gravestone; coins, bullets, and other items; attest that though it is a rather lonely place people still visit and remember her, unlike the soul buried in Nevada.
Here’s a picture of her gravestone with a few of the mementos left in Oakley’s respect. Definitely worth a visit if you’re on US127 in northern Ohio.
After Viet Nam, I served out the term of my enlistment at Fort Wainwright in Alaska. There was a monument to a Lieutenant Brewer in one of the training areas, a bronze marker atop a concrete plinth in a former company area where the streets were being reclaimed by the scrub and all that remained of the building were concrete piers and foundations. A decidedly lonely place, and the monument was a frequent target for land navigation exercises. L-T Brewer had bought the farm on Attu and I thought then, and do still today, that his memory deserved better. A recent examination of the ground courtesy of Google Earth indicates a good bit of building has taken place in that old training area, and I hope that the young L-T’s monument has been relocated to a place more suitable to his memory.
A bit about L-T Brewer can be found here:
2LT Luther Green Brewer Jr. (1920-1943) – Find a Grave Memorial
2LT implies he hadn’t been in very long. I wonder what happened, the link doesn’t say.
No, it does not, although as a recipient of the DSC, it had to be something substantial. I need to get off my azz and do some research into what his unit was doing that day. Probably there’s a unit history online.
Snakepit, it was my privilege. I remember vividly the heat and smell when they cracked open the door on that stretched DC-8. What kind of beer? 33 “ba-mi-ba” by any chance? People of a certain age will remember 33 vividly as well.
It doesn’t give any detail as to what actually occurred.
=================
Distinguished Service Cross
https://valor.militarytimes.com/recipient/recipient-6510/
WWW, thank you for your service. Going from steamy hot Vietnam to Alaska is quite a contrast. I was in Vietnam for five days in 2003. One step off the plane and got the full effect of heat and humidity.
Holding an ice cold beer at the end of the tour of the Cu Chi tunnels.