We visited Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah, GA to see historic markers. Instead, we saw markers that broke our hearts.
I am always struck by the contrast between grief and a tourist spot and am fascinated by how 9/11 spots are slowly but surely moving toward the latter category. While visiting the Flight 93 Memorial http://hennacornoelidays.com/2011/10/12/flight-93-memorial/ we kept remarking how beautiful the landscape was (and then felt guilty for having that though- I also felt guilty for wondering if it would be inappropriate to picnic within the grounds of the memorial). One of my favorite state parks, Fort Robinson in Nebraska, served as a type of ghetto for the Native Americans who were forced to live there. Those same Native Americans were then hunted down for having the nerve of wanting to live elsewhere. With that understood, I loved the park for the scenery, the Summer theater, and the casual way all its history was strung about. But we paid a few extra bucks to camp in the RV area instead of the cheaper tent section that was on the site of a former cemetery.
Visiting cemeteries can be so fascinating. I always find myself wondering about the people and their lives. It’s hard to see the graves of children though.
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