Debris, Dirt, and Dreams: A WWII Story That Landed at My Door

From a Comment to a Connection

Although genealogy works with past records and old photos, it can also appear unexpectedly at your doorstep in real time, in vivid, uncanny ways. I don’t mean noticing that you share the same blue eyes as your grandmother. I mean something stranger.

Hence, the package I received earlier this week, all the way from Rantigny, a small village in France.

My father’s 1/2 brother was killed while serving as a Flight Officer and Bombardier/Navigator on a B-26.

His plane fell from the sky in 1944.

Glenn passed before my father was born. All my family had of him was a photo taken in New Jersey, just before he went overseas.

Oddly enough, my grandmother had this photo in her possession when she passed in the 90s. She wasn’t Glenn’s mother, which leads me to believe that my grandfather had this photo of his son when he passed away in the 1960s, and then it fell into my grandmother’s hands.

Through my research, I learned that he was drafted into the military just days after his 18th birthday and graduation from high school. He was very involved in organizations in high school, such as the theatre, science club, and languages, and had hopes of becoming a magazine editor. I am a writer and performer, reading this immediately endeared me to my uncle Glenn, who I never met.

When I found his memorial on Find-a-Grave, I left a comment to thank my uncle for his service and sacrifice.

I had no idea that comment would open a door to a friendship with a man 40 years my senior in France.

From that comment, another Find-a-Grave user, Patrick, found and emailed me. He lives in the small town where my uncle's plane went down, and is working to get a steel monument in the crew’s honor, erected there. In nearly every correspondence, he mentions the debt the French people owe to the Allied forces. It makes me very proud of my uncle and my mom’s father, both of whom served in World War II. The greatest generation indeed.

Currently, my uncle's name is on a monument in England, where his flight crew trained, and in France, where his plane took off from, but not at the actual site where the plane went down. Patrick was curious to know if I might be interested in helping to erect a monument in Rantigny.

I let him know that, yes, absolutely. I am interested.

As he and I have worked to identify other living family members of the crew to contact them to gauge their interest in the memorial, Patrick and I have written numerous emails back and forth.

Imagine my surprise when a package arrived at my door from France earlier this week.

I opened it with much anticipation and found that my new friend in France had carefully packaged and mailed me pieces of the plane. The package also included a small sample of the dirt just under where the debris was found.

It is an odd package to receive in the mail, twisted and charred metal belonging to the plane your uncle, whom you never met, was in when he died.

On the other hand, it is also very powerful to hold these pieces in my hands. What a thoughtful package to receive, all the way from France, accompanied by a lovely handwritten note from my new friend, whom I hope to visit soon.

I plan to create a small shadowbox with the debris, honoring my uncle’s life, which will include some of his photos and newspaper clippings about him. I don’t know where it will end up once I am gone, but honoring him while I am here feels like the right thing to do.

What is a physical item that you’ve discovered in your research that holds great meaning to you? Feel free to share in the comments below. I would love to hear about it.