09/06/2026
Standing at the Normandy American Cemetery, looking out over row after row of white crosses and Stars of David, and then walking the beaches where so many came ashore more than 80 years ago, it was impossible not to feel the weight of what happened here.
These weren’t just numbers we learned about from textbooks. They were sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, and friends. Thousands of individual lives and stories are represented here, including four women who served their country and never made it home.
So many were incredibly young — 18, 19, 20, 21 years old. Ages when today we might be finishing school, starting college, beginning a first job or still trying to figure out who we are. Think about yourself at that age. Or your children or grandchildren. Now imagine crossing an ocean and being asked to face something most of us can barely comprehend. Standing on those beaches and then seeing those ages on the graves makes it painfully human. They were barely beginning their lives, and so many gave up all of the years ahead of them. There is something incredibly humbling about standing in this place. The beauty and peacefulness of Normandy today are such a contrast to what happened here on June 6, 1944.
Each time I’ve stood here over the years, I’ve found myself thinking about something uncomfortable.
One of the lessons of World War II is that what happened didn’t happen overnight. People became divided into “us” and “them.” Groups of people were blamed for society’s problems. Truth was manipulated. Fear was used to divide people. And too many ordinary people convinced themselves that what was happening either wasn’t that serious or wasn’t their problem.
That’s the part of history I think we’re supposed to remember, too.
It was impossible not to think about our own country today. We are deeply divided, and sometimes so committed to defending our “side” that we risk excusing words, actions and behavior we would recognize as wrong if they came from someone else.
History reminds us that democracy and freedom should never be taken for granted and they require us to listen to one another, to value truth, to protect the rights of people we may not agree with, and perhaps most importantly, to remember our shared humanity.
The men and women buried here cannot tell us what they would think about America today, and I wouldn’t presume to speak for them. But standing among their graves certainly made me think about the responsibility that comes with the freedom they helped preserve. Maybe honoring them requires more than remembering what happened on June 6, 1944. Maybe it also means learning from the past, paying attention to the world around us, and remembering that the freedoms we enjoy today came at an extraordinary cost.
I’m grateful for every opportunity I’ve had to be here, to remember, to reflect and to say a quiet thank you.
One last thought: And I’m sad I even have to say it --- I’m not sharing this to start a political debate or tell anyone what to believe. I’m sharing it because being here makes me think, and I hope it might make others pause and think, too. Respectful conversation is always welcome. Personal attacks are not, and those comments will be removed.
Anyhoo… I’ve been fortunate enough to visit Normandy several times, and it never becomes just another place I’ve been. Every visit leaves me with a renewed sense of gratitude for those who sacrificed so much, perspective about the freedoms we have today, and a reminder of why the lessons of history still matter --- If we are willing to listen and learn from them.❤️
