I Visited a Friend's Grave Yesterday

[RJM62]

It was the grave of my childhood best friend. He died of leukemia when we were 10.

The school had made all of us go to the funeral mass when John died, but none of us were allowed to go to the burial. Not that I think any of us would have wanted to at that age -- burials are not high on the list of fun things to do for most 10-year-olds -- but it always felt like unfinished business to me. He was my best friend. I owed him that much. But life often gets in the way of death, and it got relegated to my "to-do" list.

About 20 years ago, I decided it was time to find his grave and visit it. It turned out not to be as easy as I thought it would be.

The secretary of the church where the funeral was held claimed that they had no record of the burial.

The school we attended had closed down, as had the funeral home that handled John's funeral.

The city wouldn't talk to me unless I was an immediate relative.

None of the free online databases had any records of his burial place, nor did Ancestry.

Social Security had no records because children didn't typically get SSN's until they started working back then.

I couldn't find any newspaper obituaries.

None of my other childhood friends knew any more than I did.

I didn't know any of John's relatives other than his mother and father, who also had passed away.

Etcetera.

My search eventually led me back to the Cemeteries Division of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Brooklyn and Queens. I was advised to ask for a particular person who was sort of an unofficial historian and archivist there. When I called, she told me that they didn't have any record of his burial, either. But she also asked me whether John's father was a veteran.

John's dad had indeed been a veteran. He'd served in World War II, as had most of the men in my neighborhood when I was a kid. He'd died about nine months before John did. I remember that the school made us go to that funeral, too; and I remember my clumsy (and largely unsuccessful) attempts to comfort my friend.

That's when I had a head-slapping moment and realized that John must be buried in a veterans' cemetery somewhere. So I called the VA. They asked me for his name, his father's name, his mother's name, and his year of death. I gave them the information, and they immediately told me that he was buried at the Long Island National Cemetery, in the same grave as his father and mother.

So yesterday I made the trip, many decades late, to visit the grave of the best friend I ever had. I thought it would be sad, and maybe even a bit traumatic. But as I was talking to him, I was flooded by happy memories of our childhood together, almost as if he was answering my words with memories.

I thought this visit would be a one-time thing -- just a loose end from childhood to tie up. But now I think I'll be going again.

Rich

 

[Kelvin]

Do anyone else a favor...take what you learned about him and his family and enter it on Find-a-Grave.

I was able to track 10 generations of my ancestors down in about 3 hours cross referencing Ancestry.com and Find-a-Grave.

 

[BrianNC]

I definitely get it Rich. The older I get posts like this become more and more relevant.

 

[RJM62]

Do anyone else a favor...take what you learned about him and his family and enter it on Find-a-Grave.

I was able to track 10 generations of my ancestors down in about 3 hours cross referencing Ancestry.com and Find-a-Grave.

Already done.

I don't regret the search, though. I re-connected with a few other childhood friends, had the opportunity to use microfilm and microfiche readers again (not all of the old papers, nor articles within those papers, have been digitized), and had pizza at Luigi's (his son Giovanni recognized me after all these years).

Rich

 

[RJM62]

I definitely get it Rich. The older I get posts like this become more and more relevant.

Emotions are strange things. As I was leaving the cemetery, I found myself comforted knowing that John was buried with and among military heroes. Playing military-related games came right behind playing baseball, stickball, or stoopball as our favorite activities as children. Some games were overtly military, such as one we simply called "War," which was an urban variant of "Capture the Flag." Others, like "Coco-Livio" and a "Dead Ball" variant thereof, had strong military overtones.

"Coco-Livio" was a "Tag" variant with several twists. It consisted of each team capturing each other's teammates, which had to be by embrace, not merely a tag; and escorting them to a prison camp (usually the stoops of two apartment houses). Team members who had not yet been caught could free their captured comrades by getting past the "sentry" and tagging the prisoners without getting captured themselves.

Team tactics such as ganging up on or otherwise diverting the attention of the sentry were allowed, but you couldn't actually touch the sentry. If you did, you became a prisoner. (Often, however, one player would embrace the sentry and voluntarily become a prisoner, while another teammate freed all the rest of the prisoners. That was allowed.) The game ended when all of one team had been captured, which could take hours, or sometimes days.

The "Dead Ball" variant of "Coco-Livio" was basically the same game, except that rather than embracing the person to take them prisoner, we had to hit them with a dead spaldeen. A "spaldeen" was a small, pink, hollow rubber ball made by the Spaulding company. When new, they had an amazing bounce to them. But with use, they became less bouncy. When they were no longer useful for games like stickball or stoopball, they were considered "dead."

We collected the dead balls to play "Dead Ball Coco-Livio" both because we couldn't afford enough new spaldeens to equip every player (they cost $0.25 each, which was enough for a double-feature at the Sanders Theater back then), and because new ones would bounce too much and get lost. Losing a new spauldeen was cause for great sorrow and much cussing. We scaled many fences, snuck into many back yards, and climbed onto many roofs to retrieve new or new-ish spauldeens.

In retrospect, we must have been pretty poor to scale a roof to retrieve a $0.25 rubber ball. But we sure had a lot of fun.

Rich

 

[Bell206]

such as one we simply called "War,"

What other game was there to play on a warm summer morning--other than baseball? Bang! Now count to 30 while I reload my broomstick.

 

[RJM62]

What other game was there to play on a warm summer morning--other than baseball? Bang! Now count to 30 while I reload my broomstick.

Baseball was actually our favorite game, but finding a place to play could be challenging. There were places, but there was also competition for them. Basically, whichever bunch of kids got to the venue first first got the field, which was most often a sandlot where some building had been torn down and whatever was replacing it hadn't yet been built.

There also were several large, private, fenced-in parking lots that weren't active during evenings and weekends, and their owners didn't care if we played there. One even left a semi-hidden opening in the fence for us and painted bases on the blacktop. The others weren't quite so accommodating, but none of them cared if we squeezed between the gates and the posts to play ball during off-hours.

We also played in the street between the ConEd plant and Greenwood Cemetery from time to time. It was a very long street with nothing else on either side save for the graveyard on one side and the ConEd plant on the other, so traffic was typically light. The ConEd plant had a very high chain-link fence that helped prevent too many foul balls from winding up in there. When they did, the security guards who walked the facility with the Detex clock would usually toss them back out to us during their rounds. If we started out with three or four balls, we could usually finish the game.

The nearest actual baseball fields that we were allowed to use were at Prospect Park, a healthy bike ride away. We were allowed to use them as long as there were no leagues using them. The leagues paid to use them, so obviously they got priority. As with the sandlots and parking lots, it was first-come, first-play for pickup games. Usually we could get a field on weekdays during the summer, but it was a long bike ride with no guarantees.

Once in a while we played on the docks down at Bush Terminal, but that was problematic for actual games because the docks were narrow and the stray baseballs wound up in the East River. We might scale a roof to retrieve a ball, but we weren't going to dive into the East River. Sometimes a few of us would go down there with a couple of bats and a bag of raggy old balls and just practice hitting. When all the balls were in the river, we'd go home.

There also was a warehouse along the docks, but quite a bit farther away, with a big parking lot. Its owner didn't care if we played there during off hours as long as we hit toward the river to avoid breaking windows. None of us had the ability to hit a ball that far, anyway, so it was a pretty ideal situation. But it also was pretty far away and very popular with other kids who lived closer and usually got there first, so we didn't play there very often.

Rich

 

[Warlock]

Rich thanks for this thread...as I get older these things become more important...a few days a go I got to walk through the Brandenburg Gate...the last time I was there there was a wall in the way...a small group of us toasted to absent companions and concluded they would have approved...

 

[Bell206]

Baseball was actually our favorite game

but finding a place to play could be challenging.

Baseball was ours as well provided we had enough for a decent pick up game. When the numbers were low a little "war" filled the gap. But we were fortunate as to having available ball fields. Not every lot in the surrounding area had been developed. Had many a game at the "corner lot" or the "crab-apple field." But there also was the elementary school ball field or the city's Mouton park that had fields, all with in an easy bike ride. As we got older baseball fell to the side and we played street football and basketball. Then all these girls started hanging around... and all that innocent fun went away.

 

[Ted]

Timely thread, Rich. One of my high school friends died about 6 weeks ago from cancer. He'd been unhealthy the whole 20 years I knew him, and it was just a matter of time. He lasted a lot longer than I'd expected.

He gets buried in July. I don't think I'll be able to attend due to the timing, and there are some things about the funeral arrangements that are just... odd. So I might just make a separate trek and see if I can find him.

 

[RyanB]

One of my high school friends died about 6 weeks ago

He gets buried in July

Always thought the burial had to occur in a timely manner, unless the person is cremated. Is that typical?

 

[NHWannabe]

Emotions are strange things. As I was leaving the cemetery, I found myself comforted knowing that John was buried with and among military heroes. Playing military-related games came right behind playing baseball, stickball, or stoopball as our favorite activities as children. Some games were overtly military, such as one we simply called "War," which was an urban variant of "Capture the Flag." Others, like "Coco-Livio" and a "Dead Ball" variant thereof, had strong military overtones.

"Coco-Livio" was a "Tag" variant with several twists. It consisted of each team capturing each other's teammates, which had to be by embrace, not merely a tag; and escorting them to a prison camp (usually the stoops of two apartment houses). Team members who had not yet been caught could free their captured comrades by getting past the "sentry" and tagging the prisoners without getting captured themselves.

Team tactics such as ganging up on or otherwise diverting the attention of the sentry were allowed, but you couldn't actually touch the sentry. If you did, you became a prisoner. (Often, however, one player would embrace the sentry and voluntarily become a prisoner, while another teammate freed all the rest of the prisoners. That was allowed.) The game ended when all of one team had been captured, which could take hours, or sometimes days.

The "Dead Ball" variant of "Coco-Livio" was basically the same game, except that rather than embracing the person to take them prisoner, we had to hit them with a dead spaldeen. A "spaldeen" was a small, pink, hollow rubber ball made by the Spaulding company. When new, they had an amazing bounce to them. But with use, they became less bouncy. When they were no longer useful for games like stickball or stoopball, they were considered "dead."

We collected the dead balls to play "Dead Ball Coco-Livio" both because we couldn't afford enough new spaldeens to equip every player (they cost $0.25 each, which was enough for a double-feature at the Sanders Theater back then), and because new ones would bounce too much and get lost. Losing a new spauldeen was cause for great sorrow and much cussing. We scaled many fences, snuck into many back yards, and climbed onto many roofs to retrieve new or new-ish spauldeens.

In retrospect, we must have been pretty poor to scale a roof to retrieve a $0.25 rubber ball. But we sure had a lot of fun.

Rich

You can still get "Spaldeens" at the Vermont Country Store brought back a lot of memories of stoop ball, stick ball, punch ball, etc, they also have very pricey stickball bats $35 per.

 

[Shepherd]

You done good, Rich.

 

[Checkout_my_Six]

Rich....hang in there pal.
Times have changed....and changed so much that childhood Leukemia is very treatable. My son had it young at 5yo....this year he's 25.

My point....it's not like it use to be. Today many cancers are very treatable. Thank God.

 

[Timbeck2]

Not to hijack the thread but along the same lines...

I never really knew my real father. I met him a couple of times and have only one memory of him when he and my mom were together and it wasn't a good one. I knew I had a half brother (Chad, the result of his cheating on my mom) and we've met. My father died about 10 years ago and I happened upon his obituary on the internet. It said he is survived by his wife, two sons (me and Chad) and a daughter. I never knew about a daughter. I assume it was an adoption of a child from his wife but I'm not sure. So I called my mom and asked. She knew nothing of a daughter. I'm currently trying to track down his family and ask. If his daughter was at the funeral I assume she read the obit and if she is indeed a half sister, then she would be trying to track Chad and me down which is why I think she was adopted.

 

[RJM62]

Timely thread, Rich. One of my high school friends died about 6 weeks ago from cancer. He'd been unhealthy the whole 20 years I knew him, and it was just a matter of time. He lasted a lot longer than I'd expected.

He gets buried in July. I don't think I'll be able to attend due to the timing, and there are some things about the funeral arrangements that are just... odd. So I might just make a separate trek and see if I can find him.

I'm sorry for your loss.

Rich

 

[RJM62]

Not to hijack the thread but along the same lines...

I never really knew my real father. I met him a couple of times and have only one memory of him when he and my mom were together and it wasn't a good one. I knew I had a half brother (Chad, the result of his cheating on my mom) and we've met. My father died about 10 years ago and I happened upon his obituary on the internet. It said he is survived by his wife, two sons (me and Chad) and a daughter. I never knew about a daughter. I assume it was an adoption of a child from his wife but I'm not sure. So I called my mom and asked. She knew nothing of a daughter. I'm currently trying to track down his family and ask. If his daughter was at the funeral I assume she read the obit and if she is indeed a half sister, then she would be trying to track Chad and me down which is why I think she was adopted.

Good luck with your search.

Rich

 

[RJM62]

Rich....hang in there pal.
Times have changed....and changed so much that childhood Leukemia is very treatable. My son had it young at 5yo....this year he's 25.

My point....it's not like it use to be. Today many cancers are very treatable. Thank God.

That's great! I'm glad he's okay, and for 20 years at that.

The advances in treating both childhood cancers and cancers in general are awe-inspiring. I have two survivors in my immediate family.

Rich

 

[Ted]

Always thought the burial had to occur in a timely manner, unless the person is cremated. Is that typical?

He was cremated. I’m not aware of any laws requiring a timely burial, but this is definitely the most delayed I’ve inown of. I suppose part of what doesn’t sit well with me over the whole thing.

 

[KRyan]

Ted:

Obviously, I don't know the details about your friend, but there could be any number of reasons for the delay.

My brother in law is a surgeon. When he was in medical school, he complained to his parents about the lack of cadavers for the surgeons-to-be to practice on. My mother & father in law decided to donate their bodies to medical school. The medical school cremated the remains when they were finished. My father-in-law had his funeral/burial a year or more after his death. We got my mother-in-law back a little faster - maybe 6-8 months.

 

[Zeldman]

My first experience with death was in the 1st grade. A classmate was accidently shot and killed by her 11 year old brother over the Christmas holidays.

When school resumed, we asked our teacher about it. She just put her finger to her lips and said we must never talk about it. Which is how children were treated at the time. It was called ''protecting''.

I found out years later that after the accident the family immediately pulled the brother out of school and sent him to a relatives home in another town.

That was 53 years ago. I have never forgotten the little girls name.