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Life In a Cemetery

I set an alarm to wake up at 7:00 on Saturday, October 9th, but never needed it. I was up before the sun and couldn't get back to sleep; this was the day I would meet Michael Wiedrich, Michael Wiedrich's fellow soldiers, people who portray Michael Weidrich and his battery, Michael Wiedrich's wife, Maria, and a collection of some really amazing people that were neither Michael Wiedrich nor his soldiers. 

I rolled in to the southwest entrance of  Forest Lawn Cemetery with windshield wipers set to "intermittent." The light rain did nothing to deter the arrival of the cemetery historian, Patrick Kavanagh, who wins the award for "Most Affable Guide I've Ever Met." Our meeting was the result, once again, of the lovely Diane Pesch-Savatteri; I realized that anyone associated with that woman is charming, delightful or, like Pat, both. I followed Pat to the cemetery chapel/offices and after a brief tour of the building, was introduced to Director of Community Engagement and Volunteer Coordinator Laura Fitzgerald. We all piled in to Pat's car, Laura insisting I ride shotgun. 

It soon became apparent that both of these individuals are passionate about their respective roles in breathing life into what has to be the most beautiful cemetery I've ever been to. Both were animated and passionate about the history on these sacred grounds, and at no time did I feel a shred of darkness that one might associate with death or the departed. The tour deserves far more pictures than I took; I was so captivated with the dozens of stories related to me about a handful of the over 150,000 permanent residents of Forest Lawn, that most of the time I forgot I had a phone with me. By the end of the day I was mildly shattered that I had not taken any pictures with either of these new friends.

We passed by the graves of a few notables, including electric chair inventor Alfred Southwick and 13th US President Millard Fillmore.

Grave of 13th US President Millard Fillmore

On the way to visit my great-great grandfather, we dropped by to see one of his sergeants, Philip Bachert. I have a feeling that if Wiedrich, Bachert and I were in the same room, I'd have to go to Bachert to get the full story of who Wiedrich was. This man was so proud of his association with the Battery, its name appears just below his own, and both of those appear below a pair of crossed cannons. I'd seen Bachert in the black-and-white photograph, and now I was seeing him in stone.




I tried to imagine Sgt. Bachert, member of the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), whispering from the grave, but it didn't work. For some reason, I was under the impression he didn't usually whisper, and I liked that. I have a feeling I'll get to have a conversation with him one day, and it will lay my suspicions to rest.

Eventually the moment came. There were no trumpets, no angelic choir...he was just there, a few steps from the vehicle path. A short word to understand my perspective here, so please bear with me: to me, death is a state for which there is no reason to fear. I believe we continue to be who we are, with the same personalities we had in this life, with a continued ability to progress and sand down the rough edges. The tears I shed at funerals are best described as ones of gratitude and not so much of grief, unless some injustice has occurred. Sure, I don't look forward to dying, but I don't fear being dead. So, back to my experience approaching this grave: this was a visit to a place that commemorated Michael Wiedrich's life, housed his remains, and served as a beautiful setting to imagine him there beside, but certainly not beneath me.


The inscription, not at all weathered, is nonetheless difficult to read due to lighting in the photo. It says, "MICHAEL WIEDRICH...LT. COL. 15TH N.Y. HEAVY ARTILLERY...CAPTAIN WIEDRICH'S BATTERY...BATTERY I 1ST N.Y. LIGHT ARTILLERY...BORN SEPTEMBER 23RD, 1820...DIED MARCH 21, 1899"

I was left alone for a few minutes while I had a one-way conversation with Michael. I had a good feeling about him, and was reminded that every person in that plot was just as important as he was. I looked up and scanned as much of the cemetery as I could from his grave. Every person with a story, every person a child known to God, literally. I looked to the east, beyond the border of Forest Lawn, toward the grave of another person I would be visiting later, someone Michael did not want me to overlook or forget. 

The Wiedrich plot was purchased by Michael's son, Charles, and includes the graves of five family members beside himself and his father. I know this because at the conclusion of the tour, Pat presented me with a spiral notebook he had compiled that is truly amazing.




It contains detailed records of the eleven members of Wiedrich's Battery interred at Forest Lawn, a copy of the muster-in roll of the Battery, various newspaper and online articles and an original publication from 1887, "The Lincoln Memorial Collection," which makes mention of the "brave Germans of Wiedrich's Battery." Pat and I are still in touch. He never mentioned it to me, but I later learned he is a Vietnam Vet, which I am sure gives him a unique understanding of the soldiers buried at Forest Lawn and the sacrifices they made. Before we parted ways, Laura presented me with a gift bag from the Cemetery. As I look over these items while typing this, I am once again filled with gratitude for the efforts of these amazing people, and I find myself greatly admiring their work. I didn't want to leave. I will return, likely in the spring of 2022, and I plan to visit each of the Battery members' eleven graves with my wife, Christy (as it turns out, back in 1992, before the age of the internet, Christy had reached out to sources in Buffalo as she conducted an in-depth search for the Wiedrich family's information via US mail. Just before my trip in 2021, we located a file with several documents she had acquired. Much more about this in a future post!).

Next up: A Grave Decision.

 



 

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