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A Holiday Visit to Hampton National Cemetery

Sorry for the lack of posting today, but I was otherwise pre-occupied with travel. Today we ventured down to Hampton National Cemetery in Hampton, Virginia to visit Great-Great-Great Grandpop Erven’s final resting place, and drop off a wreath for him. I had spent all of Wednesday scanning his pension file, so I was eager to finally complete his story, and his story ends at Hampton in the year 1906.

CloseupWreath
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Wreath’s Across America had managed to wreath most of the new part of the cemetery, but fell short for the one section of Civil War veterans that represented Sam Erven’s neighborhood. Most of these Union Civil War veterans seem long forgotten, as was he until I found him. I don’t think my grandmother, who shared his last name until she married my grandfather, ever knew anything about her great-grandfather before she died. We fixed his unit’s badge to his wreath, the purple clover of the 3rd Division, 2nd Corps, Army of the Potomac. I thought it was a nice touch. He had been widowed for several years, and a very recent discovery that he may have decided to live out the last years of his life in sin and debauchery made me want to go the extra mile. I figured after struggling to collect a meager pension for getting his thumb and lung all shot to hell, he deserved a good bit of boozing and whoring it up behind Rebel lines at the end.

4 Responses to “A Holiday Visit to Hampton National Cemetery”

  1. Andy B. says:

    “. . .he deserved a good bit of boozing and whoring it up behind Rebel lines at the end. . .”

    Damn, and I used to think getting $130 a month to spend any way I wanted on going to college was a big deal!

  2. Merle says:

    Until recently I lived in Newport News and that part about Phoebus being tame sure is true.

    Merle

  3. Geodkyt says:

    I grew up in Hampton, and both my parents are buried in that cemetary. Just buried Mom there the day after Thanksgiving, as a matter of fact. . .

    Spent a lot of time in Phoebus between being an Army brat and going to St. Mary’s for nine years.

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