“Abe,” I said to my younger brother. “Should I tell Mom that’s the plane Uncle Stephen went down in.” “Are you sure?” he said. “Yes, I again checked the report my wife Leah finally got from the Air Force just two days ago.” “Yes, you should” said Abe. Mom was already having a hard time at the museum because the Bell South X-1 that Grandpa worked on had been moved and the visit with the museum grandchildren was different than hoped for. “Mom” I said quietly- “that’s the kind of plane Stephen flew on his last flight.” She got very quiet and moved closer to the railing and said nothing for minutes. I asked if I could take a photo and then gave long hugs afterwards. My short film about veterans I dedicated to my uncle had already gone farther than expected and taken me all over the world, but making it had forced me to visit it on a tangible and emotional level that floored me. I knew I could only feel a slight ripple of the decades of sadness borne by those closest; but the experience...