Through Seeing You, We See Ourselves
It’s hard to describe the trip we just returned from. I saw things that made me proud to be an American and things that made me reflect on who we are today. Making sense of what this trip meant to me has been a journey in itself. At a very deep level, it helped me understand more about myself, my family, and why we are the way we are.
It hit me hardest that first day in Normandy. We had just walked through the underground exhibit at the memorial and emerged to see the beautiful beaches, hear the waves in the distance, and look to our left at more graves than I could count.
I fell back from the group and sat on the grass overlooking the beaches, thinking about my grandfather, who was just 22 when he climbed the cliffs at Pointe du Hoc. For the first time, I felt the gravity of it all. Shortly after I was escorted away from the grass by security (one cannot sit in the grass there,) but that feeling stayed with me throughout the trip as we met people my age whose grandparents had lived through the war, and older people who had lost parents, brothers, and sisters.
What surprised me most was the grace, gratitude, and love people expressed for the young Americans who had come to help liberate their countries. I expected remembrance to be something reserved mostly for anniversaries and ceremonies. Instead, the people we met carried that history into their everyday lives, not because they had to, but because they chose to and this was striking.
In that, I found a deeper understanding of my grandfather. I wish he’d had the opportunity to go back and see how much what he did still means to people. I know he must have tried to make sense of it, but I also know he never had a day of peace for the rest of his life when he returned, passing away in 1981 at the age of 59 from alcohol.
If you’re reading this, I hope you understand that our 2027 tour is about so much more than performing music. It is about bringing people together to reflect, remember, and listen. It is about understanding that no single person’s story can tell us everything and that we lose something essential when we stop listening to all voices.
I will always be thankful for the opportunity to understand my grandfather in a way I never expected. And I yearn for June, when we will return to say thank you.
Thank you for caring for the graves of our countrymen. Thank you for honoring those who died helping to liberate your cities and towns. Thank you for showing us what our fathers and grandfathers could not share when they returned.
We see you and through seeing you, we see ourselves.
- Sean
