Hamilton and Me… Well, How One of His Pals Shaped My Family

Daveed Diggs as Lafayette in Hamilton (left)

My background is in theatre and I love theatre of all kinds, including musicals. I’m sure by now most people have heard of the musical Hamilton if they haven’t seen it for themselves (or listened to the soundtrack on repeat). You don’t need to know the show but it’s a brilliant way of making history accessible and relevant to our current society.

Among the patriots fighting for freedom from English monarchy rule and taxes was a Frenchman named Marquis de Lafayette. He fought in the American Revolution on the side of the colonists. He was a celebrated hero of the war in America for decades afterwards.

A Bit of Bio

Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de La Fayette was born to a wealthy family in France and commissioned as a sous-lieutenant with the musketeers at 13. He believed in the American war and after spending three weeks with high society in London and being presented to King George III, the young Marquis snuck away to America, defying his French King’s decree that no French soldiers were to fight for the Americans.

To get himself to America he used his wealth to buy his own ship, docking in North Carolina before continuing to Philadelphia. He was 19 when he fought alongside George Washington. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de La Fayette was known to his comrades as Lafayette.

After the Revolution, Lafayette returned to France and was a key figure in the French Revolution and the government that came after. In 1824, he was invited to be a guest by President James Monroe at a multi-state celebration of America’s 50^th anniversary. He had initially only intended to visit the 13 original colonies but he was met with such fanfare that he visited all 24 states, meeting up with his old friends from the war. He collected soil from Bunker Hill, the site of an important battle, and took it home to France.

The real Marquis de Lafayette.

When he died May 20, 1834 his son George Washington scattered the soil from Bunker Hill over him. Lafayette was 76 years old. He was sometimes called “The Hero of the Two Worlds.” President Jackson gave him the same memorial honors that had been given to Lafayette’s friend George Washington. Congress urged Americans to follow similar mourning practices for the Marquis. You can tell how beloved he was by the places across America named for him, like Fayetteville, North Carolina.

Lafayette’s Legacy

One of the curious ways in which he was honored was by people naming the next generation of men after him, by his full title. My 3x great-grandfather, Marquis de Lafayette Riddle, was one of those babies. He was born the year after Lafayette’s American tour. I'm hazarding a guess that he went by Lafayette in his day-to-day since that's what he named his son, my 2x great-grandpa, Lafayette Riddle.

When I encountered that name my first thought was, Hey! A Marquis! But then I wondered why a Marquis would be farming in Batavia, NY. I thought there was a story there. I went onto Ancestry.com and plugged in the first name Marquis de Lafayette and left the last name blank.

This is a list of the names that came up on the first search page. I don’t know what are census takers’ misspellings and what are evolutions of the name but I left them as is:

M.D. Lafayette Furby b.1824, New Jersey

Marquis de Lafayette Riddle b.1825, New York

Marcus D.L. Norvell b.1836, Tennessee

Marquis de Lafayet Beall (alive in 1841), Mississippi

Marquis D.L. Branham b.1843, Tennessee

Mercus de L. Corter b.1844, Tennessee

Marquis de Lafaette Munro b.1844, New York

M.D.L. Paddock b.1846, Kansas

Markes D. L. Raynor b.1847, Ohio

Marcus D.L. Burriss b.1847, Kentucky

Margaris de Lafayette b.1849, Missouri

M.D. Laf Hill b.1849, Alabama

Margins D.L. Handley b.1850, Indiana

M.D.L. Dotson b.1850, Virginia

Marcus D.L. Batson b.1850, Michigan

Margais/Marques D.L. Beeson b.1853, Indiana

Margaris D.L.F. Harrington b.1856, Massachusetts

M. de L. Cash b.1857, Virginia

Marquis D.L. Williams b.1858, Missouri

Marquis D.L. Greer b.1859, North Carolina

La Fette D. Ginn b.1876, Georgia

Marquis D.L.F. Gorham (resides in 1889), Indiana

The names must have been passed down through the families over time, as this man was born 110 years after the original Lafayette’s death:

Marquis D.L. Rogers b.1944, California

Trivia fact: My 9x great-grandfather George Bunker owned the famed Hill that would later be part of the Revolutionary War battle (though he died the landowner a good 110 years beforehand), that Lafayette would take soil from for his own gravesite.

COVID-19 Deaths Month 4: June

Most of my friends are working from home. All of my friends in the entertainment world are facing uncertain futures. There are still areas of the country that are not enacting safety protocols. There are still people who think the virus is a hoax. A lot of my friends are in the kind of jobs that require them to work and interact with the public. I worry for them. 

There is grief this month, in the events and gatherings that are being necessarily canceled. Virtual versions are happening and, while they are better than nothing, it is also highlighting for me how much physical recharging I receive from them. This year I must find another way.

We entered Phase Two reopening in New York but places like indoor restaurants and malls and movie theatres and gyms and amusement parks, etc are still closed to the public. I have seen parks registering more use and traffic than usual. (It’s worth noting that most public restrooms are closed.) A lot of businesses that can be open now have to scale back on their employees because of the small size of the business so there’s no one to do extra work of cleaning out the bathroom after someone uses it. Right?

Due to my extended isolated recovery I may have been better prepared for all of this seclusion. But it still affects me. It may just take a little longer. So many Americans are already over the isolating and some others have not even started it. I worry this country is too large to come together to care for each other and halt the spread. I worry that the summer months will bring carelessness with it.

The global numbers are disheartening. The speed of this virus is unsettling. And if this is going to be a long haul, we need to take care of ourselves.

 

We are learning more everyday. The science will change as we learn new things about this particular virus. It's important that we stay open to that. The basic news still applies. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Six feet apart. Isolate.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And then I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

 

In June, we lost forty-seven thousand one-hundred and twenty-six Americans.

47,126

That's near the total population of the city of Binghamton, NY in 2010.

Since the rise of the pandemic 151,151 Americans have died of it.

 

 

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

*

A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

Mindful

 

Everyday

I see or hear

something

that more or less

kills me

with delight,

that leaves me

like a needle

in the haystack

of light.

It was what I was born for —

to look, to listen,

to lose myself

inside this soft world —

to instruct myself

over and over

in joy,

and acclamation.

Nor am I talking

about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,

the very extravagant —

but of the ordinary,

the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.

Oh, good scholar,

I say to myself,

how can you help

but grow wise

with such teachings

as these —

the untrimmable light

of the world,

the ocean’s shine,

the prayers that are made

out of grass?

~ Mary Oliver

 

COVID-19 Deaths Month 3: May

The virus is taking lives across all continents. At the end of this month we passed 100,000 dead Americans. I now believe we will need to sequester ourselves through the summer. I continue to pray that it does not get worse. In New York we entered Phase One of reopening, but it’s still tightly controlled. Those who can open have strict protocols they must follow. Still no gatherings.

None of our stores are open 24 hours anymore as they need the night to deep clean before they open again. Some stores have special senior hours in the morning so that they don’t have to worry about crowds.

There are talks of reopening more if the numbers stay good, at the same time that there are news and media reports of customers shooting people and getting angry and spitting on retail employees because they’re being asked to wear a mask. A lot of my friends work the kind of jobs that require them to be in public and interact with people. I am hearing stories. worry for them. 

We need to cultivate patience and compassion. They will help us help each other get through this.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

 

In May, we lost forty-five thousand nine-hundred and thirty-eight Americans.

45,938

That's near the total population of Freeport, NY in 2010.

Since the rise of the pandemic 104,025 Americans have died of it.

 

Over 100,000 Americans have died of covid-19.

  

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

*

A Contemplative Poem for the Month

Small Kindnesses

I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk

down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs

to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”

when someone sneezes, a leftover

from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.

And sometimes, when you spill lemons

from your grocery bag, someone else will help you

pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.

We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,

and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile

at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress

to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,

and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.

We have so little of each other, now. So far

from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these

fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,

have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.”

 

~Danusha Laméris

COVID-19 Deaths Month 2: April

Many more areas of the world are under stay-at-home or lockdown orders. We in New York are on a state lockdown. If you have to shop, send one person out for shopping and only for the essentials. No gatherings. No in-person religious services. Even the Pope is asking people to stay home for Easter.

The virus is spreading rapidly in the big cities. The news from my friends in New York City is something of a nightmare. What we're hearing out of Italy is frightening.

I am reading all of the science as it comes out. I am also praying it does not get worse. We only know what we know until we learn it to be untrue. The science will change as we learn new things about this particular virus. It's important that we stay open to that.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation. That isolation is necessary. This month's death toll multiplied. I can barely hold the number in my mouth.

 

In April, we lost fifty-five thousand, three hundred, and thirty-two Americans.

55,332

That's near the total population of White Plains, NY in 2010.

  

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

*

A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

I Worried

 

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?

 

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?

 

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,

hopeless.

 

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,

am I going to get rheumatism,

lockjaw, dementia?

 

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.

And gave it up. And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.

 

~ Mary Oliver

Honoring Death When You Can’t Be There

We recently cleared the 30 day mark of lockdown in New York. This week ten of my friends lost family members to covid-19. Any funerals or memorial or wakes or celebrations of life will have to wait until it is safe to gather. And that’s okay. It has to be. This is how the world is right now and we want to keep the losses to a minimum.

That said, grieving alone is hard. And it sucks when you can’t gather with everyone else who will miss them, too.

*

In January of 2004 two of my best family friends passed within two weeks, both extremely unexpected and sorrowful. I remember my dad’s tearful phone call when he begged me not to try to come home for the funerals. I know it upset him to have to say those words to me but we were in the midst of some really horrid ice storms and I lived across the state. He said he couldn’t bear the thought of having to go to three funerals.

So I stayed home. It needed to be done.

I didn’t get to be there with my loved ones. No one else in my town knew the men I was grieving. I didn’t realize how much that mattered to me.

*

Part of the funeral or celebration of life is for the deceased, for seeing the sacred temple that housed their spirit to rest in whatever manner they wished. The other part of the event is to serve as another temple in its own right, for those who loved the dead and are sad to gather to share in that so that for an hour or two, no one has to be alone with it. It’s acceptable to be publicly sad.

Grief is given safe space. We become an island together in an ocean of sorrow. No one feels adrift in it.

And the funerals that cannot be held right now will come. That doesn’t mean that we can’t honor the dead on our own, from the sacred space of our homes, our hearths. We can honor who they were to us and wish their spirits peace.

We grieve because we loved them. So it is right that the answer to grief is also love.

*

This is the ritual I do. Use it as a template. Use it as a starting point. This is about creating ritual for yourself and for your heart. You are the only one who knows what you need.

[When you’re ready...]

Call your ancestors in. You don’t need to know their names. Ask them to stand with you. Invite all-who-mean-no-harm to join you. It is just as easy as imagining my front door opening and welcoming them in with a full heart. But I do like to open my actual front door for a moment and say, “Welcome Ancestors.”

[I like to work with candles so have one ready. It can be a simple tea light or something like a seven-day candle. Small children and animals can make candles dangerous but if you like the ambiance, use a battery-operated candle.]

Speak the name of the one who passed to your ancestors. Say who they were to you. Speak out loud. Clear a spot somewhere. Light the candle. (Or turn it on.)

[Candles are good magic. They also have an ending. It might be 4 hours. It might be 7 days. But when it ends it is not symbolic of anything other than its own life cycle is over. You can always start over with a new candle.]

Burn the candle in their honor. Leave out a glass of water, or a preferred libation of the deceased. 

Say what you need to say to them. And when you are done, wish them peace. Ask the ancestors to welcome them home.

You can add favorite music, favorite prayers; make it personal. It can even be as simple as a moment of focus and then release as the candle flickers. Let the candle burn as long as you are up and about in the space.

[If you use a long-burning candle you can dedicate it as a sacred object for you to burn whenever you are missing your loved one.]

*

If you are suffering the loss of a loved one during this time of physical isolation—whether they died because of the virus or not—my heart is with you. May you feel held in your grief. May you have means of connecting to living loved ones. May you find peace in each other. May you find outlets for your sorrow. 

May you remember love.

COVID-19 Deaths Month 1: March

In New York we have been under stay-at-home orders since March 13. There is a virus spreading swiftly across the continents. The information we're getting now is likely to change as this is a new virus but some of the science is consistent.

Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. Limit social contact. If you feel sick isolate yourself for three days. If you think you may have been exposed quarantine for two weeks.

I pray it does not get worse.

It is strange to be under orders to stay-at-home but I understand the necessity of halting the spread. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry that the aisles of toilet paper and paper towels and antibacterial sprays and wipes are empty.

We had our first covid-19 death in Broome County on the Spring Equinox. It feels very real here now. I am welcoming in spring by watching our country’s death toll rise, praying for it to crest, wishing it to go down. My spirituality honors the dead and I cannot look away from the numbers of souls the virus is claiming.

How bad is this one going to be?

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who have weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And then I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

In March, two thousand, seven hundred, and fifty-five people died.

2,755

That's the total population of Roslyn, NY in 2010. 

Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website.]

*

A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

no one told the trees

 

gatherings of more than ten

have been canceled

so they put on all their best blooms

and celebrated shamelessly under the sky

 

reminding me that all I need

is sunlight, a gentle rain, and a

little bit of fresh air.

 

happy spring.

 

~ eila carrico

Call to Prayer in a Time of Change

It is time now, for those of us who commune with our ancestors, who petition them, who pray to them, or who simply pass their names over their lips… it is time for us all to reach out to them and pray for their strength and guidance. It is time to ask Spirit for aid.

Our world is in imbalance. We are being asked and required to hold down our home fronts and isolate ourselves from each other.

          May those without shelter be watched over and passed over from harm.

It is Spring Equinox here and today the world smells warm and dark and earthy. It smells like promise and hope. My lilies were poking out of the ground three days ago. Today their shoots are four inches tall! Change is happening rapidly and it is not all pleasant.

We will not see the end result until we are on the other side. Hold the Tower card up high. Change does not have to be bad. Ride it. Do not let it ride you. Get creative about problem solving.

Your ancestors have done it before you. They know the way out. They found a way out. You will, too.

          May those without resource know kindness from those who have more than needed. 
          May everyone eat. 
          May everyone have access to a clean and safe environment.

I am thinking of my friends who are losing work indefinitely and sometimes permanently because of our current global need to stay home, whose jobs do not allow a work from home option, whose jobs require crowds to come to them.

I am thinking of my friends in the essential industries that do not get to stay at home, but also, and I mean this, barely get to go home and in some instances are not getting paid for all of their time in because the money is not there. And they are all working with a lack of supplies to safeguard themselves.

And they are still working.

          May the hands of the elders guide them. 
          May the skill of the healers work through them. 
          May they be safe and as free from harm as possible.

And I was thinking about how hard my time in the hospital would have been if we had been in such times and my loved ones could not have come to see me. And I am thinking of those who now have to hold off on surgeries, who are preparing to need hospital care, and who are ending their lives in care.

Tonight I will light candles to my ancestors with specific intention.

          May those who are born during this time be safely seen into the world in good health. 
          May they be brought into life with love and joy and ease.

          May those who die during this time be surrounded by their chosen ancestors.
          May they be shepherded into death with compassion and care. 

          May it be so.