Back in August we took a trip out east to visit family. In preparation for the trip I mapped out all of the places that I knew of where my parents and our family lived. In addition, after having found a cousin I didn't know I had, we had the location of my great-grandparents and grandmother's grave.

So one day we drove to all of these places and also visited with my uncle - the only surviving member of the family from my parent's generation. At 89 he is still mentally sharp and can recall details of the past that are amazing. For example, during the war (the big one of course) he worked in the Pentagon. His commanding officer was none other than Captain Marvel. Not having been a fan of comic books, the significance of the name in popular culture was lost on him, but he recounted details of occurrences from 60+ years ago as if they had occurred last week.

At the cemetery we located the grave of my ancestors which my long lost cousin had located a few months before. At the time it was overgrown and she had requested that it be maintained, so we were able to find it easily. We stood there a few moments and gave thanks for those intrepid souls who had left their homeland in the 1870's to travel to this land and build a new life.

What they went through and what they left behind we know nothing of. Of my great grandmother, we know she came with two sisters. One eventually married and moved to Minnesota and the other was Lutheran deaconness who had come to work with Dr. Lankenau in founding the German Hospital which eventually became Lankenau hospital. They probably never saw their parents again, and perhaps never saw the sister who had moved to Minnesota. They didn't have an easy life. The final resting place of their earthly remains is certainly a nicer location than where they lived their earthly lives.

We drove into Philadelphia to see the place where they lived and where my dad grew up. It is a narrow (one-way) street lined on both sides with row homes. The street was blocked off - evidently for a block party - and though it was pretty mean (to use an old word), it seemed that there was a sense of community and of people trying to make a go of it.

Our next stop was where my mother grew up. Her parents ran a grocery store and lived above it. Oddly enough, it was still a small grocery store but now Hispanic rather than German. It was the lone building on the the block and was in the midst of vacant lots and abandoned buildings, but still a working business. I should have gone in. I don't know what the neighborhood looked like back when my mom lived there in the 30's and 40's -  I should ask my uncle who was a frequent visitor there.

We've had it pretty good, standing on the shoulders of those who have gone before us.