I have been an amateur genealogist for several years. Every once in a while I come across something which really strikes a chord with me. Here is one striking definition of a cemetery, as presented by the Lutheran All Faiths Cemetery brochure, in Middle Village, New York.
This is a Cemetery…Lives are commemorated, Deaths are recorded, Families are reunited, Memories are made tangible and Love is undisguised.
This is a Cemetery...Communities accord respect, Families bestow reverence, Historians seek information and Our Heritage is thereby enriched. Testimonies of devotion, pride and warmth are carved in stone to pay warm tribute to accomplishments and to the life, not the death, of a loved one.
The cemetery is homeland for memorials that are a sustaining source of comfort to the living. A cemetery is a history of a people, a perpetual record of yesterday and a sanctuary of peace and quiet today.
A cemetery exists because every life is worth loving and remembering – always.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Opening Day
Every life experience is a learning opportunity.
Yesterday morning my son called me and invited me to attend the 2008 opening day baseball game for the Cincinnati Reds. I should say that in Cincinnati “opening day” is a very big event, and since I had never been able to attend an opening day game before this, I was happy to go.
The rainy weather was supposed to clear up right around game time. It was raining steadily when I met my son, Tony, and his brother-in-law Steve, at the entrance to the ball park. We had agreed to meet near the statue of the recently departed and highly revered Reds radio broadcaster Joe Nuxhall. Surprisingly the ticket my son gave me was printed using a water soluble ink. The ticket information was running so we had to go around the turnstiles and have our ticket hand scanned. My stadium bag was seriously searched, but no liquids or other prohibited items were discovered.
After entering the facility we soon became separated. Having only attended one other game at the Great American Ball Park, I was unfamiliar with the section and seat numbering scheme. The crowd was very large, especially around the venders’ stands, so getting separated was not unforeseeable.
I could not immediately find a sign directing me to our seating section so I asked for directions a couple of times. I received clear, simple instructions telling me how to get to my seat. Unfortunately, both of these helpers sent me in the wrong direction. Somehow I found myself in front of an elevator door which had my section number on it. It turns out I needed to go through a restaurant/luxury lounge to get to my seat. I was reunited with Tony and Steve who were also in the queue waiting for access through the lounge area.
Once the usher dried off our seats and we settled in, I was thankful that we were far enough under cover to avoid the trickling down of the now intermittent rain. During the time getting to our seats we missed the flyover. There was a short rain delay. Someone said that there were some bald eagles on flying display, we missed them also, but I enjoyed the other pre-game ceremonies.
I’m sure the opening day events are far more than the normal. There were several tributes, a fruit basket was presented to Dusty Baker from the Findley Market merchants, a singing performance by Nick Lechey’s choir, an over-sized American flag covered the entire outfield, Kathy Wade sang the National anthem, and Todd Portune threw out the traditional first pitch. Finally: “Play Ball”.
Great American Ball Park is a marvelous place for a sporting event. It reminded me of our recent tour of Rome and the Coliseum. I noticed that our tickets indicated our seats cost $60 each. I began asking myself, “how many games a year do they play”, and “how many seats does this place hold”, and thinking, “no wonder a former county commissioner was asked to throw out the first pitch”. The announcer declared “sold out” attendance at 42,000+, even though many seats remained empty. This was probably due to the rain.
Between innings I took the opportunity to walk through the “luxury lounge”. Literally hundreds of people were sitting around eating chips and cheese, drinking beer, and watching the game on the big screen TVs. I wondered why they couldn’t just stay home and watch the game in their living rooms. That’s when I began to understand. For many people opening day is not so much a baseball game, as a networking opportunity, a family bonding event, or just a place to be seen and to tell others, “I was at the game”.
I would say the majority of those in attendance wore Reds gear, especially hats and jerseys. Many were numbered and their favorite player names were on their backs. As I expected, the color red was everywhere, signals of a great fan base. Yet somehow, it seemed that many were only casually watching the game.
The crowd was really into the “jumbotron”. Interviews and games were conducted with fans, dancing fans were “surprised”, Icons held races, and even a “kissing cam” held everyone’s attention. Reds history and stats emblazoned the electronic scoreboard. Somewhere the speed of each pitch was being displayed, but I never actually found it myself. Miniature U.S. flags were given to given out to those in attendance, but it was disheartening to see so many of these symbols of American patriotism being tossed on the floor or in the garbage containers.
Tony needed to leave the game early due to a mandatory training commitment, and Steve left about a half inning later. I still enjoyed watching the game. But soon after that, the family seated in front of us left. The young kids were getting bored. Next, the group of men to my right, who talked about their business activities for the majority of the game, also left early. I looked around and I would guess that nearly half of the crowd had departed before the last out.
My wife called me and wanted to know if she should start down to pick me up. I said sure, even though I knew that I would have no delays in making my exit. I waited for her along Third Street, in front of the famous In-Between bar. Another large screen was thumping out a video of Vanilla Ice singing and dancing. The party was rolling over from the game.
I can honestly say that I very much enjoyed my first opening day game, but baseball today is not what it once was. Oh, by the way, the Reds lost the game 4 to 2. The Diamondbacks had two solo home runs.
Yesterday morning my son called me and invited me to attend the 2008 opening day baseball game for the Cincinnati Reds. I should say that in Cincinnati “opening day” is a very big event, and since I had never been able to attend an opening day game before this, I was happy to go.
The rainy weather was supposed to clear up right around game time. It was raining steadily when I met my son, Tony, and his brother-in-law Steve, at the entrance to the ball park. We had agreed to meet near the statue of the recently departed and highly revered Reds radio broadcaster Joe Nuxhall. Surprisingly the ticket my son gave me was printed using a water soluble ink. The ticket information was running so we had to go around the turnstiles and have our ticket hand scanned. My stadium bag was seriously searched, but no liquids or other prohibited items were discovered.
After entering the facility we soon became separated. Having only attended one other game at the Great American Ball Park, I was unfamiliar with the section and seat numbering scheme. The crowd was very large, especially around the venders’ stands, so getting separated was not unforeseeable.
I could not immediately find a sign directing me to our seating section so I asked for directions a couple of times. I received clear, simple instructions telling me how to get to my seat. Unfortunately, both of these helpers sent me in the wrong direction. Somehow I found myself in front of an elevator door which had my section number on it. It turns out I needed to go through a restaurant/luxury lounge to get to my seat. I was reunited with Tony and Steve who were also in the queue waiting for access through the lounge area.
Once the usher dried off our seats and we settled in, I was thankful that we were far enough under cover to avoid the trickling down of the now intermittent rain. During the time getting to our seats we missed the flyover. There was a short rain delay. Someone said that there were some bald eagles on flying display, we missed them also, but I enjoyed the other pre-game ceremonies.
I’m sure the opening day events are far more than the normal. There were several tributes, a fruit basket was presented to Dusty Baker from the Findley Market merchants, a singing performance by Nick Lechey’s choir, an over-sized American flag covered the entire outfield, Kathy Wade sang the National anthem, and Todd Portune threw out the traditional first pitch. Finally: “Play Ball”.
Great American Ball Park is a marvelous place for a sporting event. It reminded me of our recent tour of Rome and the Coliseum. I noticed that our tickets indicated our seats cost $60 each. I began asking myself, “how many games a year do they play”, and “how many seats does this place hold”, and thinking, “no wonder a former county commissioner was asked to throw out the first pitch”. The announcer declared “sold out” attendance at 42,000+, even though many seats remained empty. This was probably due to the rain.
Between innings I took the opportunity to walk through the “luxury lounge”. Literally hundreds of people were sitting around eating chips and cheese, drinking beer, and watching the game on the big screen TVs. I wondered why they couldn’t just stay home and watch the game in their living rooms. That’s when I began to understand. For many people opening day is not so much a baseball game, as a networking opportunity, a family bonding event, or just a place to be seen and to tell others, “I was at the game”.
I would say the majority of those in attendance wore Reds gear, especially hats and jerseys. Many were numbered and their favorite player names were on their backs. As I expected, the color red was everywhere, signals of a great fan base. Yet somehow, it seemed that many were only casually watching the game.
The crowd was really into the “jumbotron”. Interviews and games were conducted with fans, dancing fans were “surprised”, Icons held races, and even a “kissing cam” held everyone’s attention. Reds history and stats emblazoned the electronic scoreboard. Somewhere the speed of each pitch was being displayed, but I never actually found it myself. Miniature U.S. flags were given to given out to those in attendance, but it was disheartening to see so many of these symbols of American patriotism being tossed on the floor or in the garbage containers.
Tony needed to leave the game early due to a mandatory training commitment, and Steve left about a half inning later. I still enjoyed watching the game. But soon after that, the family seated in front of us left. The young kids were getting bored. Next, the group of men to my right, who talked about their business activities for the majority of the game, also left early. I looked around and I would guess that nearly half of the crowd had departed before the last out.
My wife called me and wanted to know if she should start down to pick me up. I said sure, even though I knew that I would have no delays in making my exit. I waited for her along Third Street, in front of the famous In-Between bar. Another large screen was thumping out a video of Vanilla Ice singing and dancing. The party was rolling over from the game.
I can honestly say that I very much enjoyed my first opening day game, but baseball today is not what it once was. Oh, by the way, the Reds lost the game 4 to 2. The Diamondbacks had two solo home runs.
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