12.10.05
An Uncommon Love Found in “This Hallowed Ground”
by Dee Andrews
There is a grave in the Quantico National Cemetery, located near the Marine Corps Base at Quantico, Virginia, that has been there five years. It is a truly beautiful, peaceful place. It is a national military cemetery, such as the ones found in Arlington and Gettysburg.
We know these cemeteries well, not needing to give the states they are in or the battles and wars they represent. We know them by heart. In his Gettysburg Address dedicating the grounds of the Gettysburg Cemetery November 19, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln called these "hallowed" grounds, and indeed they are.
The grave I am speaking of at Quantico has a headstone bearing the name "Davidson Christian." It is an uncommon name, perhaps, but as his father later explained to me, the circumstances surrounding his son’s naming were unique. And then, the reason he is buried there is uncommon, as well.
He is buried there because of his father’s, and mother’s, uncommonly strong, deeply felt, love for him. When he died, his father, a military man, was terribly bereaved because while he had two daughters, this was his first son. Further, the son died "before his time," as we measure time on this earth.
How does God consider time and our lives here on earth? What sacred measure does He use?
I don’t know. None of us do.
The father didn’t either, but felt compelled to remember and honor and sanctify his son’s life and death by having him buried in a place of sacrifice and honor and sacredness. So he spared no energy, left no stone unturned in seeking out the means by which he could lovingly have this done.
Unable to go before, when the headstone was placed upon the grave, the father went and left flowers in remembrance of his son. He goes there occasionally still. This resting place for the earthly body of his child.
You may wonder why this is such an unusual story or such uncommon love. In many respects, I suppose it’s not. But there’s more to the story.
You see, the gravestone further reads "Davidson Christian O’Neil, Son of David Patrick O’Neil, Capt. US Marine Corps." He is my grandson. And he did not die in battle or in war. He never even really lived, as many among us would have you believe. But he lived.
He was conceived in love and his life ended only three or so months later in what we call the "miscarriage" by his mother. But he lived long enough for them to know he was their son and for his dad to give him his name. And he lived long enough for his dad to also cherish his life and all it meant. It meant enough that he now lies in a place of honor as lovingly chosen by his dad.
I did not know of his life or death or burial until after it was done. My son David called to tell me how he had had a son, had lost a son and had named this child Davidson, as a tribute to my family name and dad, David’s grandad, Eugene Neil Davidson, whom he loved. He chose Christian because of his deep beliefs and faith and wanted that name on the tomb of his son for all to see.
When he told me of this, I was profoundly moved and wept at the depths of David’s heart to so reverence and memorialize this child in circumstances where some would have done the very opposite without a thought.
This is no child unknown, except to God. His life will be remembered. Maybe not by many, but to those few, and to God, his life and his father’s uncommon love will be remembered for all eternity.
David said,
December 10, 2005 at 7:22 pm
Dee, What a beautiful and moving memory and story! This must have been a very painful time for your family. What your son did was very significant.Anthony Parker said,
December 11, 2005 at 12:30 am
Thanks for sharing this beautiful story.Raymond Fleming said,
December 11, 2005 at 2:37 pm
This is a beautiful story; it’s also haunting and gut-wrenching. Although I’ve not had an experience like this, my imagination informs me how horrible it is for those left behind. Imagining all the swirling emotions and the thinking about the life that might have been is almost too much to bear. Which is why, as you mentioned, some people refuse to think about it. Thanks be to God for the hope of heaven. And let us, like you and David, keep pointing to that hope in the profoundly significant things we do, especially when immersed in sorrow. May others see in this hope none other than Jesus, who gives this hope without measure.JD said,
December 11, 2005 at 7:47 pm
Thanks, Dee. You are touching hearts.MAK said,
December 12, 2005 at 4:12 pm
What a touching story! I often wish I had a place to visit my “miscarried” child, “Samantha Rose” (named for her great, great grandmother and for something as beautiful as she was) I am so glad that your son did that!TCS said,
December 12, 2005 at 4:59 pm
Read this while “Cry on my Shoulder” by overflow. Very touching. We have never experienced a loss like this, but have known many that have. It always struck me as strange for them to grieve totally in private. Hope to lay eyes on your reunion with Davidson.PatrickMead said,
December 13, 2005 at 10:34 am
This was an exceptional column, Dee. And it reveals that you raised an exceptional son. As the father of a future Marine it meant the world to me. I look forward to meeting you, your son, and your grandson in heaven. Come Lord Jesus.Danny Sims said,
December 14, 2005 at 3:38 pm
What a great story. Thanks to David and to you for sharing. Peace be yours this day.Melanie Morales said,
December 30, 2005 at 12:18 pm
Dee, This story really touched my heart. I have suffered several miscarriages; and often it seems that it was just my husband and I who even cared about such a thing. We struggled to find a way to mark the life. Each life lost was a dream unrealized. This is by far one of the most touching stories regarding miscarriage that I have ever come across! MelanieStoogelover said,
August 12, 2006 at 1:08 pm
Dee: That’s as good a story as one will ever read. Thanks for sharing … and bringing a tear to my eye.