Up and out early today to visit my son. I always enjoy my visits with him. We have a lunch date next Thursday when I am off because I will work the holiday weekend. One topic of conversation was that crazy shooting in NYC where the police opened fired in a crowd because someone claimed the man fired at the police. However, evidence says otherwise. The man shot his former boss but never fired at the police.
He also showed me the sneakers he purchased and had sent to his daughter. They are totally cute and I am sure she will love them. I also showed him a preview of my next book. He suggested one minor change and I have to agree with him. The cat Shark Shark is spoiled beyond belief. He walks in the kitchen and cries and my son immediately gives him a treat. That cat has a charmed life!
After my visit, Bill and I did some genealogy work at Laurel Hill. Here are some pictures I took.
Overlooking the graves of General Meade and the family of Artists, he married into, the Sergents.
An interesting find not too far away.
Every Head Stone Tells a Story.
And the steps that lead to and from them.
Bill standing on someone's mausoleum. Important to photograph that perfect shot.
More.
Both children died in 1850 but from what disease? Addendum 8/26, I researched the children's cause of death. It appears they died of Scarlet Fever. Little Sarah Ann died before her 5th birthday on April 20, 1850. I could not find/read the exact date of death of her brother. I did discover another Hobson age 28 who is interred in Laurel Hill who died of Consumption (TB).
Views from different points.
They extended a back road near my grandparents/great grandparents (paternal side) graves and we came across a site awaiting its newest member.
Top of over box awaits on the lawn.
And this is where it will go once the casket is lowered into the over box already in the ground which will not happen until the funeral guests leave.
Modern Day Americans never like to talk about death or funerals though we all die and some of us will be interred in this fashion. Death is a normal part of life and ritual is a focal point of it. As for myself, I will not be subjected to this type of ritual.
Cemeteries are a major part of genealogy research and I find them both interesting and fascinating as they all tell a story. I also find them peaceful. Before I photographed the bench at Meade's grave, I sat upon the bench with eyes closed then looked up upon the sky through the trees. I do not know if there is a heaven or a God. I do not know if spirits can come back or if ghosts really roam the earth. I just know that whoever we are this is one destination none of us can avoid,
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