A must-go place, thank you for recommending it. I often go to Genoa (my fil's family was originally from there before moving to Venice) but never got to visit this cemetery. Added to the list!
It used to be common practice for people to have picnics in cemeteries.
I think about my mother, about the fact that she's buried in a cemetery somewhere around Idaho Falls, ID, but I've no idea of which one. This has left me saddled with my father's ashes now for the past 7 years, and no idea what to do with them. I've considered going out there and first finding where my mother is buried, and then seeing if there was some way of interring my dad's ashes on or beside her grave. But that's a 1500 mile trip, and well outside the scope of my available resources.
There is a cemetery in Carbondale -- ~23 miles from where I live -- where Gen. John Logan held one of the first "official" Memorial day observations. Union, Confederate, and ex-slaves are buried there.
You're having to tote your dad's ashes around? That's unsettling. You're not close to any large bodies of water, are you? Maybe a poetry reading and a nice, gentle, "release?"
Well, I'm not actually toting them anywhere, since I've lived in the same spot for many years now, from before he died.
The nearest body of water is the drainage ditch behind the house.
Did you ever watch reruns of "Hill Street Blues"? (The first run was before your time.) A really great show, top recommendations. But the star who played the precinct sergeant actually died. So they wrote it into the script. In the story line several actors bring his ashes out and pour them into the middle of the street late one night when there's no traffic. One guy can't quite let go, and takes back a small handful to carry with him. They all leave and the camera just hovers there a moment ...
Fellow I knew at JPL once mentioned he was part of the "Neptune Society," so that he'd be cremated and then the ashes scattered at sea. "You know," he said with a wry grin, "bake and shake ... "
Interesting article. I too find cemeteries interesting, as a place of wonder and history of the lives these people lived or endured, relative to the century. Dionne and I had stopped at a cemetery along the central coast of Cali on a road trip, and to my amazement, they were all Danes or Swedes who had emigrated in the early 19th century. Every gravestone had their cameo on it. And to look into their eyes was a trip. Another cemetery visit was to Clonmacnoise in Ireland facing the Shannon river. It was built in the 6th century and founded by St. Ciaran. Massive Celtic headstones, dilapidated and tilted, covered in lichen. It was beautiful and ominous at the same time. There’s a Lookout tower to warn of invasions by the Vikings and Normans, who had raided the site many times. The last two high kings of Ireland lay at rest there. Ironically, there’s a nursery of beautiful flowers that are cultivated outside the rock walls right next to where the carnage took place. While some people are just dying to get in, I personally have an Urning desire.
Oh, what a beautiful picture you paint! I've never seen an Irish cemetery, but I would love love LOVE to. I have a lot of Irish blood, so the country speaks to me. I think about Dionne often. I'm sure you do, too. I love and miss you, Erik.
Ireland and it’s people rock! Fortunate to had visited twice now. Dionne’s boyfriend, Charles McNally back in the early 80’s had promoted U2 at their inception. Got to meet them and see some shows before they blew up into megastars. That was the inception of my love for the Irish. I have a bestiie from that era that bounces back and forth from Ireland to Cali for work. Still partners in crime and a love for golf since wee lads at 20 and 22. Dionne was my sage and conduit to rock n’ roll, rebellion and nature in a kind and positive way. I miss her dearly and you too. I look forward to when our paths can cross to hug my new sage. Mwah!
I had the pleasure of visiting a cemetery outside of a small village in Tuscany. We took a night hike after an amazing dinner...and the best Panna Cotta I've ever tasted. Wish I could remember the name of the village. The cemetery was stunning and unforgettable.
When I was living in Zagreb, Croatia, I took a taxi to Mirogoj Cemetery because I wanted to see the tomb of Drazen Petrovic, who'd played for the Portland Trailblazers. He'd been killed a few months earlier in an auto accident in Germany. Petrovic was/is a national hero, and his grave was adorned with candles and fresh flowers daily.
Mirogoj is huge, easily larger than the town I grew up in, and you see all manner of funerary architecture. I walked for hours and saw many of the heroes and scoundrels of Croatia. The saddest thing was coming around a corner and seeing thousands of fresh new marble headstones, all marking the final resting places of soldiers who'd died defending their young country against Serb aggression. Few of the dead were older than 25.
Death claims us all, some for a cause and some for no reason at all. In the end, though, none of us get out of here alive.
Seeing all those dead soldiers must have been a shock to the system. So much unnecessary and unnatural death. It's why I feel that every year I make it at this point is a victory.
War might make sense if the old men deciding to fight it did the fighting and dying themselves. Instead, they send young men to do it so they don't have to. It's a waste of lives, potential, and hope. And yet humanity keeps on repeating the same mistakes.
A must-go place, thank you for recommending it. I often go to Genoa (my fil's family was originally from there before moving to Venice) but never got to visit this cemetery. Added to the list!
Your beautiful name! It's Sardinian, yes?
Hi Stacey, yes it is, thank you. My dad's family came from Sardinia but emigrated to Germany a long time ago.
Ciao from Venice 🙋🏻♀️
It used to be common practice for people to have picnics in cemeteries.
I think about my mother, about the fact that she's buried in a cemetery somewhere around Idaho Falls, ID, but I've no idea of which one. This has left me saddled with my father's ashes now for the past 7 years, and no idea what to do with them. I've considered going out there and first finding where my mother is buried, and then seeing if there was some way of interring my dad's ashes on or beside her grave. But that's a 1500 mile trip, and well outside the scope of my available resources.
There is a cemetery in Carbondale -- ~23 miles from where I live -- where Gen. John Logan held one of the first "official" Memorial day observations. Union, Confederate, and ex-slaves are buried there.
You're having to tote your dad's ashes around? That's unsettling. You're not close to any large bodies of water, are you? Maybe a poetry reading and a nice, gentle, "release?"
Well, I'm not actually toting them anywhere, since I've lived in the same spot for many years now, from before he died.
The nearest body of water is the drainage ditch behind the house.
Did you ever watch reruns of "Hill Street Blues"? (The first run was before your time.) A really great show, top recommendations. But the star who played the precinct sergeant actually died. So they wrote it into the script. In the story line several actors bring his ashes out and pour them into the middle of the street late one night when there's no traffic. One guy can't quite let go, and takes back a small handful to carry with him. They all leave and the camera just hovers there a moment ...
Fellow I knew at JPL once mentioned he was part of the "Neptune Society," so that he'd be cremated and then the ashes scattered at sea. "You know," he said with a wry grin, "bake and shake ... "
Interesting article. I too find cemeteries interesting, as a place of wonder and history of the lives these people lived or endured, relative to the century. Dionne and I had stopped at a cemetery along the central coast of Cali on a road trip, and to my amazement, they were all Danes or Swedes who had emigrated in the early 19th century. Every gravestone had their cameo on it. And to look into their eyes was a trip. Another cemetery visit was to Clonmacnoise in Ireland facing the Shannon river. It was built in the 6th century and founded by St. Ciaran. Massive Celtic headstones, dilapidated and tilted, covered in lichen. It was beautiful and ominous at the same time. There’s a Lookout tower to warn of invasions by the Vikings and Normans, who had raided the site many times. The last two high kings of Ireland lay at rest there. Ironically, there’s a nursery of beautiful flowers that are cultivated outside the rock walls right next to where the carnage took place. While some people are just dying to get in, I personally have an Urning desire.
Oh, what a beautiful picture you paint! I've never seen an Irish cemetery, but I would love love LOVE to. I have a lot of Irish blood, so the country speaks to me. I think about Dionne often. I'm sure you do, too. I love and miss you, Erik.
Ireland and it’s people rock! Fortunate to had visited twice now. Dionne’s boyfriend, Charles McNally back in the early 80’s had promoted U2 at their inception. Got to meet them and see some shows before they blew up into megastars. That was the inception of my love for the Irish. I have a bestiie from that era that bounces back and forth from Ireland to Cali for work. Still partners in crime and a love for golf since wee lads at 20 and 22. Dionne was my sage and conduit to rock n’ roll, rebellion and nature in a kind and positive way. I miss her dearly and you too. I look forward to when our paths can cross to hug my new sage. Mwah!
Wow, amazing.
Italians were given a disproportionate amount of human talent ;-)
I had the pleasure of visiting a cemetery outside of a small village in Tuscany. We took a night hike after an amazing dinner...and the best Panna Cotta I've ever tasted. Wish I could remember the name of the village. The cemetery was stunning and unforgettable.
GAH. You had me at: night hike. Tuscany. Panna Cotta. Cemetery.
It was a glorious visit and a glorious evening.
When I was living in Zagreb, Croatia, I took a taxi to Mirogoj Cemetery because I wanted to see the tomb of Drazen Petrovic, who'd played for the Portland Trailblazers. He'd been killed a few months earlier in an auto accident in Germany. Petrovic was/is a national hero, and his grave was adorned with candles and fresh flowers daily.
Mirogoj is huge, easily larger than the town I grew up in, and you see all manner of funerary architecture. I walked for hours and saw many of the heroes and scoundrels of Croatia. The saddest thing was coming around a corner and seeing thousands of fresh new marble headstones, all marking the final resting places of soldiers who'd died defending their young country against Serb aggression. Few of the dead were older than 25.
Death claims us all, some for a cause and some for no reason at all. In the end, though, none of us get out of here alive.
Seeing all those dead soldiers must have been a shock to the system. So much unnecessary and unnatural death. It's why I feel that every year I make it at this point is a victory.
War might make sense if the old men deciding to fight it did the fighting and dying themselves. Instead, they send young men to do it so they don't have to. It's a waste of lives, potential, and hope. And yet humanity keeps on repeating the same mistakes.