memorial epitome of incomprehensibility Across the parking lot of the Arden library and community centre stands a war memorial - three gravestone-like pillars on a stone platform, flanked by two miniature cannons mounted on stone blocks. World War 1 era, my aunt guesses, and tells me how someone had stolen one, an event which made the news; someone who'd heard or read the story made a replica and donated it. I can't tell which one's the original. They're both a little rusty. I read the names on the three stones, not because I know the families, but because I'm curious about what names people had and have. Is this a writer thing? A latent historian thing? (Everyone has a latent historian inside them waiting to pop out.) The oddest surname, to me, is Wormworth, with Akey a close second. Oh, and Boomhower! (Give THAT guy a cannon.) Hartwick and Hornbeck sound quaintly British. Gaylord reminds me of elementary school: the kid who discovered this name evidently found it hilarious (a lord of gay, tee-hee!) and "You're such a gaylord" became an insult. But I thought it sounded rather grand: Sir Splendiferous Snazzworth, Gay Lord of Hartwickshire. But even the plain names, arranged as they are, convey connections, records of probable grief. Connected griefs. Two men with the same last name, Monds, both died in the First World War. Brothers? One Loyst in that world war, another Loyst in the second. Father and son? Uncle and nephew? I'm pretty safe in guessing men - not many combat roles were open to women then, not in the Canadian army at least (the Soviets were ahead on that front, though their military didn't have a stellar human rights record - but did any?) Another thing I notice is the ratio of "killed in action" to "served": in WW1, 8:34, in WW2, 3:102. This is just for one town, but it lines up with what I've heard about trench combat in WW1 being deadlier than the more mobile version in WW2, at least on the western front. The third stone, for the Korean War, has only six names - all "served" and lived to tell the tale. The memorial is in a tiny park bordered by a white fence. Two benches to sit in, facing the monument. I wonder if there's anyone living in this town who still remembers any of the soldiers. 210904 ... epitome of incomprehensibility The word makes me think of stone with names on it. Like a gravestone. Or a monument like the war_memorial in Arden. Today held two memorials: 1) The university of this name in Newfoundland. Set in stone? A bit, probably? Well, my status as a future student there isn't. I was working on the statement part of my application today. And when I got home, I realized I didn't even know what the name memorialized. My first guess was right, though: World War 1. 2) And that makes the second more connected: not just "memorial" in its title but also war-related. Difference: event and not institution. The concert was timed for Holocaust Remembrance Day, and it had works composed in the ghetto-prison Terezin/Theresienstadt - more specifically, things that could be done with voice + piano. The baritone and pianist were amazing. I wish I had time to gather up my program-scribbled notes and describe some of what I heard, but it's late and I'll just finish some activity_notes and sketch I started on the train back: seat_neighbour. 240127 ... e_o_i Huh. I was so sure that the first piece was under the title war_memorial. Memory plays tricks and underscores what's forgotten. 240127 what's it to you? who go blather from