The Cemetery-1998

     There it is. On a hillside. Not a lot of shade. Did I say shade? It was hot, dry, lonely and desolate as I recall. My thoughts... I don't know if I can put them into words really. I don't know if people would understand. They were mixed. I had never been to the cemetery before. Did my pulse rate go up? Did my blood pressure rise? Did I start to perspire? Probably. I don't remember. When connecting to the past, one never knows just what you're going to find, or what you you're going to uncover.
     I've always felt disconnected with my family: out of place and like I really didn't belong. Perhaps my quest for discovering my roots is to find an ancient relative I can relate to, a person who can explain why I am who I am. (I'll never find the person, because God has put this emptiness into each one of us. [Ecclesiastes 3:11] The search eventually will lead to Him. He's the only One who can satisfy all our inner longings, desires and needs. Even so, I continue to search.)
     I stopped along the highway and snapped the picture. The cemetery is the light patch in the middle of the picture above. You can see it if you really look hard. Go on, SQUINT! I got in the car and drove up to the gate. I stopped, took a deep breath, walked up the road and went inside.

Uncle Hank had told me where the graves were; I started up the hill. There's a road going through the cemetery, so off I went in search of John Cestnik and his son, Vincent. In this picture, the graves are in the upper left hand corner (In the cemetery not the SKY!). I looked and looked but I couldn't find them. I was getting a little discouraged. The directions I had were pretty simple. "Go to the top of the road, where it starts curving back down, the graves are right there." Well, that's what I did. They weren't there. Actually, they were there. I just didn't see them at first. With a little bit of looking, I located them. Right where they were suppose to be, by the way.
I took the pictures of the grave sites. I have a dinky little camera. I was hoping the pictures would come out better than they did. In the photos below, you can see some flowers on the graves. Family members go there every Memorial Day and decorate the graves and the Scotch Coulee homesite. On Memorial Day, 1999, I was able to participate in the ceremony. It was neat. I'd never done that before. My cousin, my uncle and I stopped at a store in Red Lodge. It's called JKs. Joe Kosorak is the owner. If you go there, he has an accordian. If it's not a busy day, Joe will stop what he's doing and play for you. He was busy making Memorial Day arrangements when we were there, so we weren't blessed by a concert. JKs Store in Red Lodge MT

Maybe next time Mr. Kosorak will be free!!!

Anyway, back to the story. After taking the pictures, I just stood and stared. I was trying to get some impressions. They are buried next to each other -- head to toe. Their wives aren't there. Alone. Just the two of them. I remember wondering if their lives in the U.S. were what they had hoped they would be. Was life better or worse? Did they ever regret their decisions? What would my life have been if they had not come? I'd have grown up under Communism. Wait a minute, my Mother and Father would not have met. I wouldn't even be here! Thanks, Grandpa and Great Grandpa. I never knew either one of you, but thanks for having the courage to come to America. Life may not have been what you expected, but your love for your family made things better for us.
May I get just a little bit mushy now? At this point, I reached down and picked up a small handful of dirt from Vincent's grave. Likewise from John's. I went back to my car and put the dirt into a little napkin I had and subsequently into a small waxed cup and now in a pickel jar. (I'd give you the name, but I don't sell their product!) Inside the jar, is a small piece of paper. Written, in my very own hand writing is a short note that says:

Soil from Vincent & John Cestnik's graves.
To be returned to Slovenia some day.

John Cestnik Grave
John & Vincent Cestnik graves John; John & Vincent Vincent

Thanks! Someday, Grandpa and Great Grandpa, I want to return a part of you to your native land...

Part III... Memorial Day.