The American Cemetery at Normandy

Omaha Beach, 2012

This is a rerun of a post I wrote following a visit to the American Cemetery, in recognition of the 70^th anniversary of the D-Day landings on the beaches of Normandy.

Humbling. Sobering. Awe-inspiring.

Perched high atop a cliff overlooking the rugged coastline of France, the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial is a place that defies all superlatives. Everything about it is staggering: the size, the number of graves, the way the sheer beauty of the place contrasts with the desperate battle that waged just below, on Omaha Beach. Looking out over the English Channel on a peaceful day, it's hard to imagine the bloodshed of June 6, 1944.

Visitors enter through a museum that tries to bring some of that enormity down to size. A video tells the stories of a few individual soldiers. World War II uniforms, ration packs, medical kits, letters, equipment, maps, photographs, and more depict the build-up to D-Day and the execution of Operation Overlord. The museum alone could absorb half a day of contemplation. And somehow, it still doesn’t prepare you for what’s next.

For beyond the museum doors lies a sea of green grass and white marble headstones, seemingly without end. Stretched out in neat rows are 9,387 Latin crosses and Stars of David, each marking the final resting place of an American serviceman. Many are unknown. A reverent hush lies over the place as visitors wander through, some looking for a special grave, some just trying to take it all in. There is no doubt that this is sacred ground.

The markers are engraved only with the person’s name, company or division, state, and date of death. Perhaps, as someone suggested to us, it was believed that including the date of birth would make the cemetery seem overwhelmingly sad. We were reminded that 60 percent of the Americans who perished in Europe were sent back to the states for burial, so the ones buried here represent only a fraction of the total losses.

The Memorial, which sits in front of a large reflecting pool, features a striking statue depicting “The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves.” Engraved tablets record the names of 1,557 missing in action, while stone maps show the positions of the D-Day landings and air operations. Fresh flowers at the base of the statue express gratitude to the sacrifices of the World War II generation. The families of Dachau concentration camp victims and survivors send a new arrangement every week.

Two American flags fly proudly over the cemetery. At the end of each day, the flags are lowered, one at a time, while a single trumpet plays Taps.

It’s a sight and sound I hope I never forget. Thank you, all who served, and especially those who rest today in Normandy.

--Shelley

© Shelley Bishop 2013. 

Enjoying the Ride of Summer

You might have noticed things have been a little quiet here at A Sense of Family lately. That’s because in real life, things have been going full-tilt: up, down, around, sideways, you name it. And the roller coaster doesn’t look like it’s slowing down anytime soon. Here’s what I’ve done in the past three weeks:

Took part in an amazing week of learning and fun at GRIP (the Genealogical Research Institute of Pittsburgh), as a student in Joshua Taylor’s class, Bridging the 1780-1840 Gap: From New England to the Midwest. Not only did I learn a lot about this fascinating but challenging time period, I enjoyed good talks with friends and got to know new people. Between the knowledgable and approachable instructors, high quality course content, great company, and the relaxed summer camp atmosphere, GRIP is a winner all around.

Classmates Harold Henderson and Kimberly Powell puzzle things out at GRIP

Got lost trying to find an old cemetery in Bainbridge, Ohio where my husband’s 4th-great-grandparents are buried. If anyone needs to know how not to get to McFarland Cemetery, just give me a shout. (I did eventually find it and got some nice pictures—it’s a pastoral spot.)

Spent a week at my husband’s family’s lake house in northeastern Ohio with my kids, father- and mother-in-law, sisters- and brothers-in-law, nieces and nephews. Every year, we rent trailers, walk to a roadside diner for breakfast, hang out in the boats, read novels, and take turns fixing happy hour and dinner. Despite the cloudy and cool weather, we had a good time (as the bottles in the recycling bin can attest) and are ready to do it again next year.

Visited the Portage County Historical Society to do some research in their files, shelves, and scrapbooks full of mostly original materials on the people and history of the area. They have the county’s old probate packets, and while I didn’t find the one I was hoping for, I looked through Fitch Bishop's again, just because it’s so cool. Even though I came away with only small nuggets of information—no big breakthroughs—it was an afternoon well spent.

Attended the 85th annual Roush (Rausch) & Allied Families Association Reunion with my mom and aunt. I met a new-to-me cousin with a neat family heirloom (more on that in a later post), posed in the annual family picture, and learned to sing “Homelands of the Roushes” (well, don’t hold me to that last bit).

Volunteered in the Genealogy Tent at the Dublin Irish Festival, answering people’s questions about how to find their family history. I love doing this. You never know what the next person in line might ask. Of course, I had to stay after my shifts and listen to some soul-stirring and rabble-rousing Irish music, too. Over three days, my son and I made the rounds between The High Kings, Red Hot Chili Pipers, FullSet, Carlos Nunez, and We Banjo 3, watched the dancers from the Richens/Timms Academy, and joined the late night fun fest outside the Gaelic Storm tent. Awesome.

We Banjo 3 at the 2013 Dublin Irish Festival

Responded to a new cousin and fellow researcher who spotted a connection with my 3rd-great-grandmother on one of my Ancestry.com family trees. Seriously, you’ve got to love those shaking leaves.

Ok, I’m just going to stop there. You get the picture. Now I’m helping two kids get ready to go back to college, going to Athens for a wedding on Saturday, and trying to make a research plan for the Allen County Public Library in Ft. Wayne. Because the next big thing on the agenda is the 2013 FGS Conference, which starts in just one week. At the rate I’m going, it will be here in the blink of an eye. If you haven’t signed up yet, you still have one more day, through Wednesday, August 14, to register and get access to the syllabus in advance. Or just show up at the door of the Ft. Wayne Conference Center and join in. I’d post a list about what I’m packing, except I haven’t even started yet (what, that doesn’t surprise you?). If you’d like to see what other, more organized people are packing, here’s a post from the FGS Conference Blog that might help.

It’s a wild ride, this thing called Summer. I’m hanging on tight and loving every minute of it. Hope you’re having a good one, too.

--Shelley

Joseph Haven Sanborn, Loudonville, Ohio

Loudonville Cemetery is the final resting place of many members of the Sanborn family, who migrated to Loudonville, Ohio from New Hampshire before 1840. This stately gravestone marks the burial place of Joseph Haven Sanborn, born 13 January 1831 in Plymouth, New Hampshire, to parents Jeremiah B. Sanborn and Clarissa (Smith) Sanborn. Joseph was a railroad ticket agent for many years. He died in Loudonville, in Ashland County, on 24 August 1895, at the age of 64.

The marker, which bears the inscription "Blessed are the Dead, who die in the Lord," honors Joseph’s wife and daughter as well. Clarissa Annah “Clara” Smith (who usually went by Clara, possibly to avoid confusion with her mother-in-law) was born 6 January 1838 in Loudonville. She outlived her husband by many years, until 30 December 1913. The couple’s little daughter, Laura Clarissa Sanborn, was born 22 August 1870 and lived only five months, dying on 25 January 1871. Like her father and mother, she has her own little marker showing her actual location in the family plot.

Joseph H. and Clara Sanborn had three other children, who all lived to adulthood: Haven Levant Sanborn, Mary Asenath Sanborn, and Gilman Stanton Sanborn. None of them are buried in Ashland County.

Loudonville Cemetery sits on a hill not far from the center of town, and is well tended. It’s a pleasant spot in which to reflect on some of my husband’s early Ohio ancestors on a summer day.

--Shelley

Related Posts:

Joseph B. Sanborn and Mary Jane Smith Sanborn: Tombstone Tuesday

Clarissa Smith Sanborn of Loudonville: Sunday’s Obituary

Identifying a Mystery Photo

Visiting the American Cemetery at Normandy

Humbling. Sobering. Awe-inspiring.

Perched high atop a cliff overlooking the rugged coastline of France, the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial is a place that defies all superlatives. Everything about it is staggering: the size, the number of graves, the way the sheer beauty of the place contrasts with the desperate battle that waged just below, on Omaha Beach. Looking out over the English Channel on a peaceful day, it's hard to imagine the bloodshed of June 6, 1944.

Visitors enter through a museum that tries to bring some of that enormity down to size. A video tells the stories of a few individual soldiers. World War II uniforms, ration packs, medical kits, letters, equipment, maps, photographs, and more depict the build-up to D-Day and the execution of Operation Overlord. The museum alone could absorb half a day of contemplation. And somehow, it still doesn’t prepare you for what’s next.

For beyond the museum doors lies a sea of green grass and white marble headstones, seemingly without end. Stretched out in neat rows are 9,387 Latin crosses and Stars of David, each marking the final resting place of an American serviceman. Many are unknown. A reverent hush lies over the place as visitors wander through, some looking for a special grave, some just trying to take it all in. There is no doubt that this is sacred ground.

The markers are engraved only with the person’s name, company or division, state, and date of death. Perhaps, as someone suggested to us, it was believed that including the date of birth would make the cemetery seem overwhelmingly sad. We were reminded that 60 percent of the Americans who perished in Europe were sent back to the states for burial, so the ones buried here represent only a fraction of the total losses.

The Memorial, which sits in front of a large reflecting pool, features a striking statue depicting “The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves.” Engraved tablets record the names of 1,557 missing in action, while stone maps show the positions of the D-Day landings and air operations. Fresh flowers at the base of the statue express gratitude to the sacrifices of the World War II generation. The families of Dachau concentration camp victims and survivors send a new arrangement every week.

Two American flags fly proudly over the cemetery. At the end of each day, the flags are lowered, one at a time, while a single trumpet plays Taps.

It’s a sight and sound I hope I never forget, and one that seems especially poignant on Memorial Day. Thank you, all who served, and especially those who rest today in Normandy.

--Shelley

© Shelley Bishop 2013. Please request permission to use photographs and/or written material.

Related Posts:

Honoring Civil War Veterans at The Ridges

Dublin, Ohio, Veterans Park and Indian Run Cemetery

A few years ago, the city of Dublin, Ohio, transformed a quiet spot behind historic Indian Run Cemetery into a Veterans Park. It features a Grounds of Remembrance honoring those who have served the United States in times of war and peace. Visitors walk down a Recognition Walk lined with dedication stones, some of which are inscribed with names of individual veterans from Revolutionary times to the present.

The park is a peaceful and inviting place. The young sycamore trees that have been planted will one day provide a shady canopy over the grounds. A POW/MIA memorial stone gives special pause, as does the POW/MIA flag flying overhead.

An open-air pavilion provides a backdrop for both official ceremonies and private reflection. Inscribed on the wall is this lovely except from Concord Hymn, by Ralph Waldo Emerson:

On this green bank, by this soft stream,

We place with joy a votive stone,

That memory may their deeds redeem,

When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

O Thou who made those heroes dare

To die, and leave their children free—

Bid Time and Nature gently spare

The shaft we raised to them and Thee.

Indian Run Cemetery is one of the oldest burial grounds in Central Ohio, with the first burial dating back to 1814. Although it has been restored, a long period of prior neglect means that many stones were irreparably broken and others were lost. Stones that could not be matched with a gravesite have been set against the old dry stone border wall that surrounds the cemetery. Many members of the families that founded Dublin are buried at Indian Run. At least one Revolutionary War soldier, Nathaniel Babcock, is among them, as a modern monument attests.

The design of the new memorial fits in with the historic cemetery it surrounds, with the American flag flying proudly over them both. I like the way this seems to bring history full circle.

Thank you, veterans!

--Shelley

If you go: Access to the Dublin Veterans Park and Indian Run Cemetery is not particularly well marked. From the downtown Dublin intersection of Bridge St. (State Route 161) and High St. (Dublin Rd.), go north on High St. one block to Darby St. Turn left as if going to the Dublin branch of the Columbus Metropolitan Library. Cars should continue past the library and veer right to park in the Indian Run lot. For more information, see: http://dublinohiousa.gov/parks-open-space/grounds-of-remembrance

Previous Veteran’s Day posts:

Thank You to a Special WWII Veteran

In Honor of Veteran’s Day