Echoes From the Dead World

Images: Roman armor in marching configuartion, as would have been seen at the battle; the famous Roman calvary mask; artifacts of Roman equipment held up against their illustrated counterparts;fragments of skulls of the roman dead found on the battlefield; around the area of the battlefield where I spoke to the Roman. All images taken by me.  I continued on my walk, proceeding west down the Roman path. Now all felt different. It was like a third eye had been opened. I could feel them everywhere. Spirits of those who had died or were somehow present there. They were thick, incredibly so. I would describe it as being surrounded by dozens. I could feel all of them in relation to my physical body, and I felt some were walking around, but many were following me, watching me. I felt I had drawn their special attention because of my invitation, though for whatever their reasons, they would not, or could not speak. I cannot express sufficiently how real it felt. Their presences. It was as ...

  Image: A Suebian warrior, closely resembling how I saw this man. Another depiction of Germanic warriors and their equipment, along with two images of a typical Germanic warriors garb. First image is from  Caminando por la Historia, the rest were taken by myself at the Varruschlacht.  The prompting came to me as I approached the German defenses: “You should ask to talk to them.” It felt valid, as I felt strange, experiencing distant feelings that felt not quite my own. Perhaps there was something here that wanted to talk, like with Ignatius in Mainz. So I addressed them similarly as I did in the Roman graveyard in Mainz. “If anyone wants to talk about their experience, or relate anything at all, I am here. I am open, and I am listening. You can talk to me however you can, by feeling, words, or sight. You could even show yourself, if you want. But I am not here to take pictures, or video, or capture you somehow. I am one who wants to know you, and to know better your expe...

  Image: Taken by myself in Beaufort, SC.  *FICTION* With a gasp, he removed the pillow from his face and chucked it at the headboard. I’m still here. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the spinning ceiling fan. It’s not a nightmare I can wake up from. Slowly, Gabriel began drifting to sleep. The fan blades spun above him like crows circling over a meal. He did his best to empty his mind, letting any thought come but never latching on, letting every one pass. Never feeling, never wondering. Life had made him too tired for that. Eyelids became heavy, breathing slowed down. His mind drifted on a sea of darkness. The sheets on his bed were scratchy. Before he opened his eyes, he recognized the familiar smell. Home. His eyes cracked open, and as he had predicted, he was in his parent’s home in Ellijay, back in his old room. The smell of fall leaves and pine filled the room as a cool breeze drifted in through the window right next to his head. He could see the familiar woods outsi...

  Images: Images taken by myself at the Varusschlacht museum. First Image: the extent of the Roman Empire at the time of the battle. Second Image: A mapt of the battlefield showing the Roman scheme of maneuver around the Kalkriese Berg and past the great moor.  In the early 1st century AD, the Roman Empire was asserting its power deep into Germania, the vast territory east of the Rhine River. After years of successful campaigns under generals like Tiberius, the region was considered largely pacified. Rome began the process of turning it into a formal province, establishing laws, collecting taxes, and building infrastructure. In 7 AD, Publius Quinctilius Varus , an experienced but rigid administrator rather than a battle-hardened general, was appointed governor. His imposition of Roman taxation and legal systems caused widespread resentment among the Germanic tribes, who valued their independence above all else. This simmering discontent was secretly cultivated by Arminius , a ...

  Images: All taken by myself at the Varusschlacht. First image, the dark Teutoburg Forest. Second image, the start of the literal path the remnants of Varus's legions marched on their last day of battle. Third image, the Roman calvary mask found just below the German earthworks on the Roman left flank. Fourth image, a model of what the German earthworks would have looked like in 9 AD.  I really wanted to see the site of the Battle of Teutoburg Forest, or as they typically call it in Germany, the Varusschlacht , or Varus Battle. It was very far north, and I really only had one day to see it. But it was a place I had wanted to see for many years, as it was such a historically significant battle. Around 20,000 Romans died there in one of their greatest defeats in history, at the hands of the Germanic tribes and the betrayal of Arminius. Anyway, I drove the roughly four hours up there. It had gotten considerably colder that day. As soon as I entered the Taunus mountains, snow beg...

Image: Taken by myself in the Mainz History Museum. Gravestone image is of Publius Flavoleius Cordus of Mutina, likely a centurion of Legio X Gemina, based on the location and the vitis he is holding. To the ancient Romans, being forgotten was a fate worse than death. This societal obsession with remembrance, known as memoria , was a driving force behind their culture, art, and public life. It was a belief that a person's existence, honor ( dignitas ), and influence could continue long after their physical death, but only if their name and deeds were actively remembered by the living. This pursuit of an earthly immortality manifested in several powerful ways. Emperors, generals, and wealthy magistrates funded the construction of temples, aqueducts, and forums, ensuring their names were literally carved into the fabric of the city for centuries. For citizens of all but the lowest classes, the tomb was the most important personal project. They built elaborate tombs along busy roads n...

Image: Chapel of Ease, St. Helena Island, SC. Image taken by myself.   *FICTION* He sat down on the edge of his bed, the gas fireplace burning low and casting some light across the floor. He tapped the notification and then the call back button. It only rang once. “Gabe? Gabriel?” His mother’s soft voice crackled out of his phone speaker. He heard who he could only assume was his dad getting up quickly. “G-Gabe! How ya’ doin’ son?” His father’s voice sounded, trying to speak over his mother. He could already see them in their house in Ellijay, Georgia. “Hey Ma, hey Pop.” Gabriel said softly, running his hands through his hair. “That’s all ya’ got?” His dad said with a small laugh. “Your Ma’s only been callin’ ya’ darn near every hour!” “Hush Harold!” His mother said sternly. “I…I know things haven’t been easy dear but I…I just want to be sure you’re okay. You just…up and left without a word.” “We just love you so much son. We just want you to know that. There ain’t nothin’ you...

  Images: First: All of these Roman gravestones are form the Historical Museum of Mainz, all taken by myself. First image is the grave stone of a freed slave or freedman, Lucius Callidius Primigenius. Second image is of a gravestone for the apparantly infant daughter of Telesphoris. The third image is the gravestone of the boatman Blussus and his wife Menimane. When I got back to my hotel, I could still feel him. He told me stories about the Roman ships, as they had been unearthed right below where I was staying. As I prepared to say goodbye, I felt his anxiety return. He was pleading with me, his emotions more intense than ever before. “Don’t forget me. Please don’t forget me. My name is Ignatius.” He repeated it over and over. I promised him I would not forget. A sense of peace came from him then, and his presence began to fade. After he left, it felt as if I was coming down from a high, the spiritual energy had been that strong. Even now, as I write this, I can feel a light sens...