Five centuries late – the funeral of the century belongs to Richard III

So today's the day. The day of the celebrity funeral of the year, the century! Right? And not a damp eye about the place – the perfect funeral, not even a twinge of sadness among any in the church or anywhere at all really.

Richard III's funeral today is kind of like Will & Kate's wedding, only without the beautiful bride (or bridesmaid). What about the Royal Family? I don't know if they'll be in attendance for the big event in Leicester, but let's face it Richard wasn't (and isn't) really much of endorsement for the concept of monarchy.

In fact, his reputation was so poor that despite my real interest in the discovery of his body in the parking lot in Leicester, I didn't think many in Britain would really care. I am surprised at how big this thing is. I'm also also a little ... perplexed by today's ceremony.

Does Richard actually require a second funeral? Is there no statute of limitations on these things? Are people really going to pray for the repose of his soul?

I guess I'll have to wait and see how the ceremony is conducted, but there's no denying that interest is huge. I'm sure people all over Britain have been hanging Union Jack bunting, making plans to gather with friends and family for the funeral and preparing afternoon teas according to instructions in Funeral Magazine (Yes, there is one) so that they can enjoy 15th century royal treats after Richard III is buried once and for all - again.

I hope everyone enjoys the day. It's on Channel 4 in Britain. I have no idea if there's any coverage in the US of A. I sure hope so.

Here's a song appropriate for today's occasion/festivities.

Empires of the Dead

Highland Cemetery, Le Cateau, France

I just finished reading Empires of the Dead by David Crane. I can't get over how much I enjoyed his book on the history of Britain's WWI cemeteries and the man whose vision they represent.

I'm sure I wouldn't have enjoyed the book half as much if I hadn't been to so many WWI cemeteries. In fact, I'd love to read a book that deals with the American cemeteries and the decisions that led to the look and character we take for granted today.

Today we assume that the cemeteries look the way they do because it was always going to be this way. Crane's book makes plain that this isn't true, that the cemeteries are primarily the result of one man's vision, which was shaped by his views on the British Empire and equality (all headstones are uniform - for unknown privates up to well known generals).

At the time many families wanted their loved ones returned to Britain (or Ireland or any of the other nations in the Empire), but that was at odds with Fabian Ware's vision. He had support too, from Kipling who spoke for all those whose sons' bodies were never identified, who had nothing to return home for burial.

If you've traveled to Ypres or to the Somme you'll know what those cemeteries look like: every grave uniformly shaped and sized, and only some sparse personal details and a regimental insignia to make each stone different. Each cemetery has a large "stone of sacrifice" that looks like an altar and a 'cross of sacrifice.'

I always assumed the cross was an automatic, but it was actually the source of some upset at the time or, rather, its absence was a source of upset. The original plans didn't allow for a cross and this bothered many of the families of the dead and so the 'cross of sacrifice' was added. Originally the cemeteries were only going to have the secular stone of sacrifice, but that didn't set well with many in Britain, especially the families of the dead. Lutyen's stone was insufficient for most and his rival's cross was added, much to his horror.

The cross in the cemetery at Etreux

What I'd love to know now, having read Crane's book, is why the cemetery at Etreux is so different. Etreux is where in the early days of the war the Royal Munster Fusiliers made their heroic stand in the face of overwhelming German numbers.

The story of what the 2nd Battalion of the RMF did there is tremendous, but I'm now very curious about the cemetery at Etreux. I want to know why this cemetery is so different, so out of sync with Ware's vision. There are a number of private memorials and the cross is not the standard 'cross of sacrifice,' but a Celtic cross design.

I've been in many CWGC cemeteries and the one at Etreux is one that definitely stands out.

Too old for many things, but not too old to run for a bottle of wine

My leg is almost healed. The large bruise just above my knee is now fading away, which is good.

I just wish I could say that I hurt it diving to field a ground ball or even that I fell off my bike trying to make that sharp bend in the trail in the woods at too high a speed in a desperate effort to win that all-important 6,215th race against my brothers. But no, unfortunately, those days are way in the past.

No, I hurt my knee when I banged it off a door that was caught on a loose rug. It was caught and wouldn't budge, but I didn't know that when I galloped down the stairs at top speed in order to retrieve that much needed ... bottle of wine.

I didn't have time for doors, especially doors that were partly open but not open enough to squeeze through. I descended 7 stairs in two steps and flicked the door with my outstretched left hand and presumed it would be wide open by the time the rest of me arrived. Alas, it was not.

My left knee took the brunt of the blow as I walloped it off the side of the door. I was hurt. And stunned. It took me a few seconds to realize that I'd have to hop the rest of the way to the wine, which is what I did as guttural, Yosemite Sam-like noises poured forth from deep within me. It was only when I got to the wine that I fully grasped the truth of my situation – that I had a bottle of wine, but the opener was back upstairs AND I was in a lot of pain.

For a few brief seconds I wondered if I was too old 'for this.' You see, I just had one of those 'milestone' birthdays (I'm not saying which, but I was born the same year as Shea Stadium opened), which possibly sowed that seed of doubt. Happily, that moment passed.

Yes I am too old to play baseball. Yes I'm too old to race my brothers on my bicycle. (Although I daresay that if someone put the four of us on bikes and said, “Who can get to the far end of the trail first?” we would still all kill ourselves AND each other in a bid to be first.)

But I am not too old to give my all in pursuit of a bottle of wine. I figure that when that day does come my time on this Earth will be nearing an end. I hope I am never too old to chase wine.

There was no real damage to my leg other than the bruise, which is now just about gone. Within a few minutes of that initial bang I was able to hobble upstairs with my wine. The first glass was strictly medicinal, I told myself, as I poured out the second. The pain was definitely easing by then.

By the next day it was just a little sore and now, six days later, it's but a yellowish spot on my knee and a fading memory.

It did leave one lasting mark, however. I learned a very valuable lesson – always have a bottle opener on you. You never know what calamity might befall you and prevent you from getting to the opener when you most desperately need it.

The #ABMC should provide free WiFi at America's #WWI cemeteries

Here's what might sound like a wacky idea, but the American Battle Monuments Commission should provide free WiFi at the American WWI cemeteries. Why does anyone need WiFi you ask?

Well, as you wander among the graves some will catch your eye. Maybe it's the name – same as a family member or a friend – or maybe it's the state he's from or maybe it's the fact he was awarded the Medal of Honor, the Distinguished Service Cross or the Croix de Guerre (as many Americans were) and you want to do a quick Google search.

Why shouldn't visitors to the cemetery be able to do that? I think they should be encouraged to do so because otherwise the sea of white crosses is just that – a sea of white crosses. And believe me, when you're at the Meuse-Argonne Cemetery the 14,000 white crosses and occasional Star of David are overwhelming. Each cross represents an individual, a person with their own story and those individual stories are what people connect with, not really the broad sweep of a battle.

Providing WiFi will afford American visitors (& others) the opportunity to learn a little more about one (or more) of those who is (are) buried there. That will help personalize the cemeteries, lessen the "sea of white crosses" effect. And, just in case someone thinks adding WiFi to the cemeteries would be disrespectful I ask you to remember:

1. Providing free WiFi should be near enough to cost-free and unobtrusive. The infrastructure should be all but invisible.
2. The dead won't mind. In fact, if it helps people to learn about them as people I think that if they could speak they'd be pleased.
3. Anyone with access to a 4G connection can access Google at the cemeteries already, but that probably includes no Americans or if it does it includes only those for whom cost of downloading data while overseas is no issue.

So, it may be an odd suggestion, but free WiFi will enable Americans (and others) to learn more and, thus, to honor more fully those who are buried in America's war cemeteries.

Who was Eleanor Bradley-Peters?

Last week I was touring around the area known as the Saint Mihiel Salient during WWI and I came to the town of Thiaucaourt, France. For reasons I can't recall now I walked into the local cemetery in which was buried one, lone British soldier - T J Kite of the Grenadier Guards who died after the Armistice on December 8, 1918.

As I turned to leave the little graveyard I saw a cross that was shaped just like the crosses that mark the graves of fallen American servicemen in Europe. The cross read simply "Eleanor Bradley-Peters / July 6, 1865 - November 1, 1941." When I got home I Googled her name, expecting to find she was an English or American poet who had opted to live in France.

First I found a reference to an Eleanor Bradley-Peters born July 1, 1855 and died November 1, 1941. Again, I didn't know anything about her, but I thought to myself, "Good for you - moving to France and lopping 10 years off your age. Sure you died under Nazi occupation, but you were 86 (or 76) by then. I hope you gave em hell."

Unfortunately, I dug a little more and the story turned. Her only son - Edward McClure Peters Jr - was killed in action at Seicheprey on March 11, 1918 and is buried in the St Mihiel American Cemetery, which is only half a mile down the road from where Eleanor is buried.

 So, how did Eleanor come to be buried there? I have no idea, although it seems clear that she felt a great need to be near her son's grave. I'd love to know more. Did she move to France shortly after WWI finished? Or did she provide for her burial there in a will?

There is probably no way to know for sure, but I will probably keep looking for a while. If I find more, I'll provide an update.

If you're looking for my older blog posts...

This account used to be part of Irish Central, but it isn't any more. I will still be blogging at Irish Central, but I just thought I'd make all the posts I've done for that site visible here. I don't know how many of my older posts are visible at Irish Central.com now.

No crossing the Irish border say some car rental companies

Dun Luce Castle in Co Antrim - off limits to tourists as far as Argus Car Hire is concerned.

I had an eye-opener last week. I had reserved a rental car for New Year's Day to take the family to Belfast for a function, but when I had a close look at the terms and conditions I saw, buried on page 4, "All cross-border travel disallowed."

Stunning. Jaw-dropping. Argus Car Hire left me flabbergasted.

I thought those days were way in the past. I mean, both parts of Ireland have been part of the 'Single Market' within the EU since 1987. It's over 15 years since the agreement signed on Good Friday 1998 heralded a new peace up north and new relationships between the north and south.

Among those new relationships is Tourism Ireland, established in 2002, to market "the island of Ireland overseas as a holiday destination." That's the whole island, one entity, north AND south together. 2002 - 12 years ago now.

Like I said, I was stunned. Still, I had options. I had only booked the car because my own car needed some repairs and my mechanic had said he couldn't get the parts before the New Year. However, my mechanic called on the 30th to say he had received the parts and that he was ready to go to work on my car. So my own car was ready by New Year's Day, but it was too late to cancel the rental car. I figured I would use the rental anyway.

Too late? Yes, too late. That I had to give 48 hours notice to cancel my booking was not buried in the terms and conditions. I knew I couldn't cancel the booking without being charged for the rental. That's why I set off to get the car even though I didn't need it and only canceled the booking when I realized I couldn't use the car anyway.

Then I started thinking ... what about all those tourists who book a car for their vacation, the one they decided to take after they were sold on the "island of Ireland" as a dream destination? What happens to those people if they booked through Argus Car Hire? (And they are almost certainly not the only ones who bar cross-border travel.)

My guess is that most of them never realize they aren't allowed to take the car over the border. Why would it occur to them? They're going to Ireland. That's how it was sold to them, right? It would only become an issue if something happened, if they were involved in a car accident or the car was stolen. That's when they'd learn that they had unwittingly violated the terms of their contract. Then they'd have issues. Big issues.

And, just in case you're unsure what it's like to cross the border, it's like going from Bergen County, NJ to Rockland County, NY. In other words, if you're on a highway you'll probably realize that you've changed jurisdictions, but if you're on a smaller road you could easily be unaware that you'd wandered over the border. It is in no way like passing into Canada from America.

That's the point. That's why Tourism Ireland exists. As far as tourism is concerned it's "the island of Ireland" and car rental companies - I'm looking at you Argus Car Hire - are obviously part of the tourism industry. It's more than time that they acknowledge the realities of tourism in Ireland in 2014.

Wake Up America! You're ruining Thanksgiving.

Black Friday crowds
{Photo: thanks to Forbes.com}

Hey America you're wrecking Thanksgiving. Do you care?

Thanksgiving just ain't what it used to be. Back when I first moved to Ireland Thanksgiving was one thing that I really missed. I missed the simplicity of a day with no commercial implications. No presents to buy or cards to send or any of it.

A few years ago I wrote that Ireland should adopt Thanksgiving. I wondered why so many less-likable bits of American culture made it to Ireland, but not one of the best things America has to offer: Thanksgiving.

Unfortunately I'm less positive about Thanksgiving than I used to be. The Thanksgiving I was writing about, the one I wanted Ireland to adopt, is in the process of being tossed away by America.

I don't know why, but for some reason Thanksgiving has morphed into a sort of frenzied and frantic (and fake) Opening Day of the Christmas shopping season. It's a shame because one of the greatest things about Thanksgiving was that the stores were closed.

I know that back in the day the little candy store or gas station would be open – for newspapers and gas – but there was basically no shopping to be done on Thanksgiving. What bliss!

That is no longer the case. These days the stores are all falling over one another to shout out how they're open Thanksgiving Day! As if this is a good thing.

This is a disaster. Oh sure, the stores don't open til late in the day (5pm is late in the day? & Kmart is opening at 6am!), but that doesn't matter. They're open. Why?

How many family dinners will have to be rushed, dessert postponed because Mom or Dad has to be at work by 5? A holiday is a day, not a few hours in the morning. Only not any more. Now Thanksgiving is just another shopping day, albeit with the twist that the stores open in the evening and stay open for 30 hours or whatever. Some holiday.

I guess the retail stores feel they must do this to compete with Amazon, which – of course – takes no days off. Yet most of the stores that are opening Thanksgiving Day have web sites where you can buy stuff so why do they have to force employees out to work?

And really, what is it that makes people so desperate to shop that they can't resist going to the stores on Thanksgiving Day? Is shopping really all that important?

Maybe there is some great sociological explanation for all this, but I don't really care. Nobody needs to buy a sofa or a skirt or a Playstation on Thanksgiving Day. They may want to, but they don't need to.

Yes, I know, Black Friday and all that hoopla. Another ridiculous contrivance. Were the stores empty on Wednesday? Was there nothing to buy anywhere last weekend? No, of course not. The idea that nobody buys a Christmas present until the now shortened Thanksgiving Day is over is patently false. That's why Black Friday is noting other than a pernicious falsehood.

So come on America! Before it's too late, cut out this nonsense and return Thanksgiving Day to what it was: a day for food and parades and food and football and food and family. Especially food and family.

Best Buy will wait. Let's have Thanksgiving Day – a full day – as a day without stores, without sales, without shopping. Just a day to give thanks. And to eat.

Notre Dame Stadium in late November – a new experience for my daughter

Notre Dame plays BYU in what promises to be a cold
Notre Dame Stadium on Saturday.
{Photo: thanks to the Deseret Morning News}

I'm an unsympathetic father. I have to admit I chuckled when my daughter told me of her fears, of what Saturday might be like for her. No, I didn't chuckle. I laughed.

I mentioned my daughter before: she's in her freshman year at Notre Dame. She's learning a lot about life in America.

She has visited America many times, but most of those visits were in the summer. Still she has been in upstate NY around Christmas time. She's seen snow. She's felt that cold – for a few minutes before retreating into the central heating.

Today is going to be something entirely different.

As I'm sure you know part of life at Notre Dame is football. If you're a student you go to the games and you cheer. You get there early and you wait til the end, which is after the team comes to sing with the students following the game.

She had to learn. She didn't know much about football before this year. Oh and sure, the football games were great fun in the warm sun of September, but the game against BYU scheduled for November 23 in South Bend, IN was always going to be a different kettle of fish. It's going to be cold. I mean COLD.

According to WNDU the forecast for the area is, "Windy and cold! Lake-effect snow showers in many areas, although southwestern areas will be sunny much of the day. High: 29, Wind: NW 15-25." Get that? High 29 (that's -2C for those who prefer their temperatures in the Celsius). Also, see that wind? 15-25 – pleasant if you're walking along the beach on a hot day, but tomorrow in South Bend? It will be something she's never experienced.

I chuckled again just putting that in there.

Ireland has a different cold. The kind of cold, damp weather that makes you feel miserable. It never makes you feel like parts of you are just about to snap off. That's what my daughter is in for as the sun sets over the stadium this evening.

Oh, and as she's learned already, football is not like rugby. She was once at the Aviva Stadium for a big Leinster rugby match on an unusually cold day a few years ago. The big difference though is time: rugby, including halftime, lasts about two hours.

By the time she's spent two hours in Notre Dame Stadium this afternoon/evening she won't even be half way to being able to return to her warm dorm room. Nope.

It will be a minimum of four hours outside. In the cold. And the wind. And the blowing flurries.

Maybe when the wind is particularly brisk, really kicking up, she might hear my laughter cutting through the distance to reach her miserably cold ears.

Train journey between Albany and New York is special (PHOTOS)

The winter sun breaking through the clouds over the Hudson River.

PHOTOS - The view from an Amtrak, Albany to NYC  



I had the opportunity to take the train from Albany to New York last week. I don't get that chance often, but when I do I always enjoy it.

No, I'm not talking about Amtrak, which annoyed me by promising me WiFi and then not providing it, but the actual route the train takes. It has to be one of the prettiest train routes anywhere.

Now I know there are some special tourist routes that exist simply to take you on a scenic tour of mountainous regions or coastal areas, but I'm not talking about that kind of train route. I'm talking about the regular train line connecting two cities.

The train between New York and Albany runs along the Hudson River and that is the source of much of the spectacular scenery along the way. Starting with the Palisades in New Jersey the opposite bank of the Hudson is picturesque. You get a good, up-close view of West Point, a number of bridges, islands in the river and just the general rustic beauty of 140 miles or so of a mostly unspoiled riverbank and hinterlands. Trees, mountains the occasional breath-taking home are all part of the package.

Yet when the weather turns from autumn to winter you get a different view if you look inland rather than towards the Hudson. For most of the year all you see is dense vegetation, but when the leaves fall from the trees and bushes wither up you get a view that's denied to travelers the rest of the year.

Many fantastic homes, some that appear to date back to the 19th century or earlier, many little streams and ponds – all seemingly featuring duck-blinds – and parkland are all there waiting to be discovered in the fall. You can even catch sight of some rock faces and cliffs that are hidden the rest of the year.

It seems odd to me now that I used to take that train regularly when I was in college, but I don't remember ever noticing the natural beauty along the way. Now I can't get enough of it.

It distracts me from my work or the frustration of not being able to do my work because the WiFi is broken. It entices me to try to capture a shot or two on my phone, none of which ever looks as good as what my eye sees on the way past. It causes me to just sit and wonder: are there are journeys along the Rhine or Danube or Seine or Vistula or whatever as beautiful as the one I took for granted for so many years? I kind of doubt it.

PHOTOS - The view from an Amtrak, Albany to NYC  

Photo gallery here.