Moments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory. ― James Joyce, The Dead One summer he appeared on the sidewalk, out of some kind of past that refuses me unless I demand it let me in. With force. Or clenching my eyes so tight that time shatters, reality melds with imagination, and I conjure up a history in the old ways. Using connections unproven by science or religion. Like witches do. Or liars. Or writers.
Great job, son. Today, my Uncle Bill was real to me again. I felt him and missed him. It was so nice to remember this intelligent, sensitive and kind man whom I loved dearly as a child. Many thanks, Serge. You stirred up my memory and allowed me a brief visit back in time with my sweet Uncle Bill, who deserves to be remembered by family. RIP Uncle Bill, you are not forgotten.
Heart achingly beautiful. A sad, tender portrait of a tragic life. The Uncle Bills of the world deserve to have their stories discovered and shared. It’s so easy to judge people by what we see on the surface. By sharing his history, you gave dignity to your relative. Powerful story. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole that is Ancestry.com. Again, great story and great writing.
Sadly time has been tight and I haven't read as many of your essays as I would like to. This one took me on a totally different journey than I expected. At first I was hitting those bumps in the concrete on my bike along Fayette Street, like so many other places in Conshy and then I was dying to hear more about this young couple and their children and Gettysburg. Well done, your writing can really transport people to another place, another state of mind a simpler time, but was it really? Your uncle Bill lived a tragic life and it seemed to come from one tragic event that could happen to any person/family in any era. well done.
Brilliant and powerful. Really moved me. In Baltimore there are tent cities I pass everyday. Constantly think about the process of how they got here. Thanks for sharing the story you did to keep his life alive in a sense.
Thinking about this some more over the past few days - have you read "The Old Weird America" by Greil Marcus (used to be called "Invisible Republic)? It's roughly about Dylan's Basement Tapes, but also about strange folklore. Ties into your essay really well. An odd book, but worth flipping through if you come across it.
Hey Tom. I don't know that Greil book but it sounds like something I would absolutely dig. I thank you for the head's up. I'll definitely hunt a copy down.
Jul 22, 2022·edited Jul 22, 2022Liked by Serge Bielanko
Well done. As you may have gathered, I'm a librarian & well familiar w Ancestry & newspapers online. You get fragments & when your family is fractured, it can be exceptionally frustrating. But all families have their secrets. My Nana remarried after she divorced my grandfather, & she destroyed all the photos she had ever had of him - did the old cut him out of the picture routine. So I literally have no idea what he looked like except maybe like my mom in some way. I was able to find his WWII draft card in Ancestry & found he had moved in w his mother near the warehouse district in Balto, close to what is now Camden Yards. Mom won't talk about him, I'm sure she knows more than she'll ever tell--and believe me, we've tried. My dad divorced my mom when I was out of college and living in DC, and he let his "girlfriend" move into my childhood home. He had mentioned at some point that said person had "cleaned out" the attic, so naturally I flipped out on him. He said it was "fine," but knowing my dad, I went to investigate. She had thrown away everything that was in the attic, including Xmas ornaments that had been passed down for a generation or two, and ALL our school/baby pix except for what my mom had already taken. I have never been hysterical but I was that day. Pictures, they tell a story, don't they? Rod Stewart said so. Keep making those connections.
Wow. Thanks for sharing, Lisa. Yeah/ the past is so much. We'll never come close to understanding, but it's those moments of connection via documents or photos or old newspapers that have really made a difference in my life lately.
Great job, son. Today, my Uncle Bill was real to me again. I felt him and missed him. It was so nice to remember this intelligent, sensitive and kind man whom I loved dearly as a child. Many thanks, Serge. You stirred up my memory and allowed me a brief visit back in time with my sweet Uncle Bill, who deserves to be remembered by family. RIP Uncle Bill, you are not forgotten.
Thank you! :)
Heart achingly beautiful. A sad, tender portrait of a tragic life. The Uncle Bills of the world deserve to have their stories discovered and shared. It’s so easy to judge people by what we see on the surface. By sharing his history, you gave dignity to your relative. Powerful story. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole that is Ancestry.com. Again, great story and great writing.
Thanks so very much, Taryn.
Sadly time has been tight and I haven't read as many of your essays as I would like to. This one took me on a totally different journey than I expected. At first I was hitting those bumps in the concrete on my bike along Fayette Street, like so many other places in Conshy and then I was dying to hear more about this young couple and their children and Gettysburg. Well done, your writing can really transport people to another place, another state of mind a simpler time, but was it really? Your uncle Bill lived a tragic life and it seemed to come from one tragic event that could happen to any person/family in any era. well done.
Thank you, Butch. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
Conshy Forever.
Brilliant and powerful. Really moved me. In Baltimore there are tent cities I pass everyday. Constantly think about the process of how they got here. Thanks for sharing the story you did to keep his life alive in a sense.
Right on, thank you, Fletcher. I really appreciate you reading it today.
I 2nd the Holy Shit. Man, you had me hanging on each sentence there.
Thanks so much, Tom! I appreciate it.
Thinking about this some more over the past few days - have you read "The Old Weird America" by Greil Marcus (used to be called "Invisible Republic)? It's roughly about Dylan's Basement Tapes, but also about strange folklore. Ties into your essay really well. An odd book, but worth flipping through if you come across it.
Hey Tom. I don't know that Greil book but it sounds like something I would absolutely dig. I thank you for the head's up. I'll definitely hunt a copy down.
Wow. To coin a phrase, so sadly beautiful. I don’t know what else to say. Heart-rending. Thank you.
Thank you, Tom!
Two words. Holy. Shit.
That's a film script. A novel. It's epic.
Oh, thanks a lot, buddy. That means so much.
Well done. As you may have gathered, I'm a librarian & well familiar w Ancestry & newspapers online. You get fragments & when your family is fractured, it can be exceptionally frustrating. But all families have their secrets. My Nana remarried after she divorced my grandfather, & she destroyed all the photos she had ever had of him - did the old cut him out of the picture routine. So I literally have no idea what he looked like except maybe like my mom in some way. I was able to find his WWII draft card in Ancestry & found he had moved in w his mother near the warehouse district in Balto, close to what is now Camden Yards. Mom won't talk about him, I'm sure she knows more than she'll ever tell--and believe me, we've tried. My dad divorced my mom when I was out of college and living in DC, and he let his "girlfriend" move into my childhood home. He had mentioned at some point that said person had "cleaned out" the attic, so naturally I flipped out on him. He said it was "fine," but knowing my dad, I went to investigate. She had thrown away everything that was in the attic, including Xmas ornaments that had been passed down for a generation or two, and ALL our school/baby pix except for what my mom had already taken. I have never been hysterical but I was that day. Pictures, they tell a story, don't they? Rod Stewart said so. Keep making those connections.
Wow. Thanks for sharing, Lisa. Yeah/ the past is so much. We'll never come close to understanding, but it's those moments of connection via documents or photos or old newspapers that have really made a difference in my life lately.