Scratchy and I took a drive this afternoon to one of the local cemeteries looking for unusual shots. Ambient music playing, I could see the beauty amongst the dead, totems of wealth and power. Their past lives of grandeur, gave me pause to wonder...what makes man build such monuments to self?
Mausoleums fit for kings and queens, why were these souls so special that their mortal remains should be immortalized in such garish, yet beautiful manor? As I strolled among the monoliths, I recalled the names...land barons, lumber giants, merchants and business people of all nationalities...all a part of my city's heritage. But the mausoleums stand apart from all the rest, especially since the tornado last summer tore directly down the middle of the cemetery, uprooting many of the grand, old century oaks...but the Gothic structures remained unscathed, albeit less freaky, shed of their dark, shadowy companions.
But you tell me...is it so important to be remembered as such...a step above the rest. Marble statues blessing each coveted grave site, monuments to the wealth and power of the few...status counting even in the parking lot of the dead...I think not...as I gaze among the simple stone markers of the brave American soldiers, who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country...there is no monument that can call on such a wealth, as the sacrifice of life for honor and duty.
