Private Jones
I’d like to pause here for a bit from the account of our tour.
My grandfather, Nicholas Jones, served in the U.S. Army during WWI. It didn’t occur to me to look up where he had been in France, either now or when I last rode through the northern France battlefields in the 1980s. One of my family members sent me this 1919 article from the New York Times after we got back to Metz:
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I had seen this before but had completely forgotten about it, and all the other information we have about where my grandfather had been. I’m regretting that I didn’t, of course, because I would have created a very different tour. The war memorials in every village are very meaningful to me, but visiting the locations where my grandfather had been would have been even more meaningful. Well, perhaps I have a tour for next year.
What jumped out at me on the map, though, was Saint-Mihiel. We ate dinner there. And then Pannes - we stopped at the old lavoir there and rode through the surrounding countryside.
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The only story I remember him telling us about his time in the war was when something landed in a pot of beans he was cooking and the beans went all over the place. One funny story was all he would tell us children.
I adored him. He smoked cigars (still love the smell), made the best mashed buhdayduhs (potatoes in Brooklynese), told dad jokes that even little me thought were awful, and loved the heck out of us. I learned later that he was really hard on my father when he was growing up.
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