I love cemeteries! The older, the better. I love cemeteries because they are a glimpse into the most personal and intimate history of a place. Cemeteries require inference. As an English teacher, I teach reading comprehension using inferences. Inferences combine background information on the subject and the not so obvious subtextual clues. This results in an educated guess about the subject… in this case the people of GTMOs past.
GTMO’s cemetery is located in a secure part part of the base. As such special permission is needed to go there. It is beyond peaceful.
The cemetery is similar to any simple country cemetery in the States. It is maintained, and continues to be used as a cemetery most commonly for the aging Cuban Exile population.
The cemetery is the last resting place for not only Cuban exiles, but also, Haitian Refugees, Service men, wives and children, and various civilian workers. It represents the community that is and was GTMO.
A view of the cemetery from the entrance.
The oldest grave I came across was from 1902, the year before we officially leased this land from Cuba. That is the extent of my background knowledge for Kumaji Makamota.
Grave of Kumaji Makamota
The clues are on the stone. Kumaji died, evidently, as the result of a wreck of a Navy vessel. There is no rank listed, nor the name of any ship. He was obviously known to the Navy as they knew his name and his birth date. Therefore it is reasonable to assume that he worked for the Navy, but in what capacity we do not know. And although his birthday was very American, July 4, his name is apparently Japanese. He was 29 years old at the time of his death. I wanted to know who Kumaji was, and why he was at Guantanamo Bay. I wanted to know the circumstances of his death and if his family ever knew what became of him. I wanted to know his history, but a brief search of the internet gave me no details for Kumaji, nor any record of a shipwreck near Guantanamo Bay in the year 1902. I will continue to look for Kumaji… does anyone know he’s here?
I pressed on across the field, and came across Gertrude Myers Russell. She was from Kansas. She was 29 years old when she died in 1922. Those are the clues. Now for my inferences…. Gertrude sounds very adventurous to me. She wasn’t presented as the “wife” of some service man. Her grave proudly announces her as a civilian employee. At a time when most American women did not work outside the home, let alone travel to remote foreign destinations, Gertrude was here at GTMO. I think she and I are kindred spirits. I want to know Gertrude’s story.
The grave of Gertrude Myers Russell
But what struck me most about the Cuzco Cemetery, were the children. Dozens of markers bear the names of children. Children who died the day they were born; children who died within a year of birth, children who died as young children; children forever a part of Guantanamo Bay.
The graves of children
Their names are too many to list, these children at rest. It is their mothers I wonder about, worry about. GTMO is a duty station. Most military families stay here for two to three years and then move on to the next post. It is also a secure location, and requires special clearance to visit. Most likely these mothers left their babies behind forever. There is not much to infer; forever is a long time.
I wish I could reach out over the years and miles and let these mothers know, their babies are not forgotten. They are forever a part of this special place. They are Guantanamo Bay’s past and they stand as a testament to the families who sacrifice more than most Americans will ever realize to serve their country.
I want each child to know you are loved and you are valued, and you are not forgotten.
That is what I love about cemeteries….they are filled with people’s lives.
shawberget 