This entry is going to be a little different. This is a photo of the Gorry headstone in Calvary Cemetery in Queens, New York. There is no photo because there is no headstone. My great great grandfather James Gorry is buried in Calvary, his father James is buried in Calvary, and when I go to visit their graves, I walk amidst the thousands of markers, row upon row of memorials, to an empty square of grass where my family is buried, Irish immigrants and their children who were, like so many other immigrants then, too poor to be able to afford a headstone for their descendants to visit and remember them by. So I go anyway, and I stand on the empty grass and look across the river to Manhattan, the land of hope and dreams that the Gorrys came to from Ireland, and I close my eyes and tell my family hello, and that I know them and know of them, from all the research that I do, and that they don't need a headstone to be remembered.