Peace out, comrades

Mikhail Gorbachev (1931-2022)

“He prefers not to offer an overall death toll so as not to frighten the citizens.”

INSIDE OKHTYRKA, A CITY IN NORTHEAST UKRAINE

“’Six people were killed here,’ he said. ‘Three people there.’ He preferred not to offer an overall death toll so as ‘not to frighten the citizens.’” That is the mayor.

ajh

Ultimus Haeres

From BBC News Scotland, a sad story about people who die alone with no one to mourn them.

ajh

Making Those Unknown Known

“I think that when you die, you should be able to hold on to your history and who you are and for others to know that here is this person and not just be put into an unmarked grave and no one knows your name. We all deserve our life history and for people to know who we are and where we are.”
— Dr. Jennifer Love, a forensic anthropologist who works to identify people who have died

ajh

Those Left Behind

“How
can the dead
be truly dead
when they still live
in the souls
of those
who are
left behind?”
— Carson McCullers in The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter

Let’s not forget our fighting men & women & their families.

ajh

Scars that can’t be seen & drama that can’t be stolen

LIFE IS STRANGE.

Death may be even stranger.

I’m not in heaven — yet. But I’ve been listening to quite a bit of David Bowie since his death.

I basically ignored him and his music while he was alive, which was a big mistake on my part. We had, and have, more in common than I ever realized.

I always thought of him as strange and a freak. And he was both, and much more. But that doesn’t mean he and his talent should be neglected.

Bowie was a rebel, and I like a bit of rebellion from time to time myself. He was unique. We all are.

A fella in high school, tall and talented himself, reminds me of him. He was odd and rebellious as well. One of my brother’s friends.

I was listening to Bowie’s song Lazarus today and the lyrics got me to thinking.

I’ve got scars that can’t be seen
I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen

Unlike him, not everyone knows me. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Look up here, man, I’m in danger

I’m in danger, too. Don’t look up, though. I’m not there. I’m down here. Down below.

Or is it all in my head?

I’ve got nothing left to lose

Nothing left to lose. Yeah, me too.

Laz-a-rus. Rising from the dead. Now, that’s a nifty trick.

There are always lessons to be learned, some harder than others.

Godspeed, Mr. Bowie. I hope you’ve met HIM.

ajh

Never forget, especially the good ones

I’VE BEEN WATCHING
A Walk in the Woods with Redford and Nolte. The scene where they are reminiscing while stuck on a cliff edge got me to thinking about my aunt.

Aunt Carol died a few years back, in 2012. She was special, a terrific human being. Thank God I had the pleasure of knowing her.

I should write a book about her.

ajh

Harbinger?

A Devastating Loss, An Absolute Disaster

Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia Dies at 79

“I would count him as a top ten, maybe a top five of all time, and he wasn’t even a Chief Justice. This is a devastating loss for people who love this country. It’s a devastating loss for those of us who love the Constitution. . . . It’s an absolute disaster.”

 — radio talkshow host & lawyer Mark Levin

Five Sisters

Yesterday I came across three documents¹ related to the premature death of my great-great-great grandfather John Shannon Boal. He must have known death was coming for him, because two weeks prior, on May 31ˢᵗ, 1878, he wrote up a will.

Little is known today about this branch of the family, primarily because of the untimely deaths, I think. The chain of traditions and stories being passed down from generation to generation was continually broken, which reminds me of a quote from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, a favorite of mine which I feature separately on my blog’s main page.

My great-great grandmother, Nettie Ann Boal Darling, eldest daughter of John S. Boal

“And some things
that should not have been
forgotten were lost.
History became legend.
Legend became myth.”

John’s eldest daughter, my great-great grandmother Nettie Boal, died young too, at the age of 26. His wife, her mother, died just shy of her 30th birthday. And the history, the tales, the anecdotes, went with them, sadly. I’ve been slowly, methodically gathering up what details I can.

Somehow the fact that Nettie had siblings, all sisters, had escaped the family tree that I had compiled from previous generations. I’d been working on it diligently for years, but somehow neglected this side until this year, when I discovered one sister and then another. And, now, thanks to the will, we have yet another.

Edna Boal had slipped through, unknown to us and perhaps even my great grandmother, Nettie’s daughter Geneva, who shared a middle name with her Aunt Stella. Three other sisters had passed unnoticed, too, for years: Estella, Blanche, and Jennie. Somehow they had been forgotten.

Nettie’s daughter Geneva Estella Darling Hay, my great grandmother & granddaughter of John Boal

After I asked Grandma about Nettie’s sisters, she did recount what she knew. My grandmother remembers her mother telling her about visiting Aunt Blanche in California, when she took a trip west to see her younger brother Walter. But that’s about all we know. That’s it.

John apparently served during the Civil War. But I’ve been unable to find any record that he did.

It’s sad. These people, relatives, and their stories have been lost. One of my goals is to get back as much as we can, to restore their lives in our memories.

ajh

1. I will be writing about the other two documents, probate records involving the administration of John Boal’s estate and the care of the five children, and uploading them later.