I had a big day yesterday, a picnic lunch with the Baron. I have been wanting to see him for almost 2 years, but everytime I tried, it was too late. You see, on a really big hill not far from my house ( the last time we came down that hill my brakes smokes, kids thought it was cool), is a State Park that is the final resting place for this Baron. He is really important. So important towns, counties, and even my street is named after him, so I decided to see what all the fuss was about. We packed a picnic lunch and headed out and this time, we got there while the park was still open.
The girls and I got a phamplet when we got there and I read it to them. This guy was pretty important. It seems during the American Revolution he basically helped us get our shit together. We were looking pretty rag tag and didn't have supplies, so he organized our troops, taught the men to assemble and march, taught tactics, helped get the supplies, and turned our troops into a force to be reckoned with! HE is held to an esteem almost as high as George Washington. After the war, the state gave him 16,000 acres near where he is now buried ( and the took it back, in true NY state fashion after he died). What remains is 5 beautiful acres where he is buried and a memorial park. It was pretty nice, and a nice history lesson for the girls.
I guess because we were visiting dead people, we stopped by a cemetery near there to see if we could find my great grandfather. I know he is buried somewhere near hear, but he was not as easy to find as the Baron. Miranda can spell and read, so I had her reading tombstones. The baby just thought the cemetary was a cool place to run and play and was having a grand old time, and she loved to sit on those little stones, the ones close to the ground. Anna yelled at her, she said the people were "trying to rest! " We didn't find my grandfather, but reading stones I found a couple that just made me so sad. Again, for the second time in a week, I was reminded of past days where children died young. We found a little angel marker for a baby, and a stone for "Our Lizzy" who was 1 year 6 months and 21 days old. So sad. Miranda, the tombstone reader, had tears in her eyes. I know it sounds like a morbid thing to do, but I want to find my great grandfather and help connect my girls to this area. He lived up the hill from where I do and my grandfather and siblings were born here as well. It turns out not to be just a random place I took a job and moved to. Turns out I have family here, dead and alive. I thought I knew where he was buried. I guess I'll have to ask family members. I do want to see the stone, and reconenct with my own history.