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Friday's Random Thoughts

Friday’s are my designated day of the week to cover thoughts and subjects that don’t merit much space or have photos as part of the...

Robert M. Edsel

Jun 9, 2006

When visiting Florence...

After living in Europe for almost five years, most of which was spent living in Florence, I have a long list of travel suggestions and...

Robert M. Edsel

Jun 6, 2006

Robert's Instagram

“Get the mattresses,” the commander ordered.

In the late-night hours of September 7 or early morning of September 8, 1944, the sacristan of the Church of Our Lady in Bruges, Belgium, was roused by a knock.

Two German soldiers stood outside. Behind them were at least twenty armed sailors. They had come to “protect” the church’s treasures from the advancing Americans.

But they wanted one work in particular.

Created around 1503–05, Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child was a Renaissance masterpiece—and the only sculpture by Michelangelo to leave Italy during his lifetime.

Four days earlier, a German official had visited the church to see the Madonna one last time. For years, he had kept her photograph on his desk. He ordered mattresses placed around the statue, supposedly to protect her from Allied bombs.

Now their real purpose became clear.

The Germans slowly slid the four-foot-tall sculpture from its pedestal onto a mattress. They carried her through a side door and loaded her into a truck emblazoned with the words “RED CROSS.” As the heartbroken sacristan watched, she disappeared into the night.

For months, there was no sign of her.

Then, in early 1945, a chance conversation changed everything.

While Monuments Men Capt. Robert Posey and Pfc. Lincoln Kirstein were in Trier, Posey visited a dentist because of a terrible toothache. The dentist suggested they speak with his son-in-law, a former art scholar.

That conversation produced information about Hitler’s hoard of stolen masterpieces and led them hundreds of miles east to Altaussee, Austria.

Deep beneath the Alps, the Nazis had hidden thousands of works of art inside a maze of tunnels.

In mid-May 1945, Posey and Kirstein entered the mine. Their torchlight illuminated rack after rack of wooden boxes filled with some of Europe’s greatest masterpieces.

And then their light fell on her.

Michelangelo’s Madonna.

She lay on her side on a filthy brown-and-white striped mattress—the same one that had carried her out of Bruges.

On September 8, 1944, Michelangelo’s Madonna disappeared into the darkness.

Eight months later, she came back into the light.

“Get the mattresses,” the commander ordered.

In the late-night hours of September 7 or early morning of September 8, 1944, the sacristan of the Church of Our Lady in Bruges, Belgium, was roused by a knock.

Two German soldiers stood outside. Behind them were at least twenty armed sailors. They had come to “protect” the church’s treasures from the advancing Americans.

But they wanted one work in particular.

Created around 1503–05, Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child was a Renaissance masterpiece—and the only sculpture by Michelangelo to leave Italy during his lifetime.

Four days earlier, a German official had visited the church to see the Madonna one last time. For years, he had kept her photograph on his desk. He ordered mattresses placed around the statue, supposedly to protect her from Allied bombs.

Now their real purpose became clear.

The Germans slowly slid the four-foot-tall sculpture from its pedestal onto a mattress. They carried her through a side door and loaded her into a truck emblazoned with the words “RED CROSS.” As the heartbroken sacristan watched, she disappeared into the night.

For months, there was no sign of her.

Then, in early 1945, a chance conversation changed everything.

While Monuments Men Capt. Robert Posey and Pfc. Lincoln Kirstein were in Trier, Posey visited a dentist because of a terrible toothache. The dentist suggested they speak with his son-in-law, a former art scholar.

That conversation produced information about Hitler’s hoard of stolen masterpieces and led them hundreds of miles east to Altaussee, Austria.

Deep beneath the Alps, the Nazis had hidden thousands of works of art inside a maze of tunnels.

In mid-May 1945, Posey and Kirstein entered the mine. Their torchlight illuminated rack after rack of wooden boxes filled with some of Europe’s greatest masterpieces.

And then their light fell on her.

Michelangelo’s Madonna.

She lay on her side on a filthy brown-and-white striped mattress—the same one that had carried her out of Bruges.

On September 8, 1944, Michelangelo’s Madonna disappeared into the darkness.

Eight months later, she came back into the light.

“The very dear friend returned to his friends.”

On September 2, 1944, Monuments Man Captain Deane Keller entered Pisa—a city whose treasures he already knew well from his years as an art student in Italy.

What he found was devastating.

The roof of the Camposanto Monumentale had been destroyed by fire. Its magnificent frescoes were badly damaged, and thousands of fragments lay scattered across the floor, exposed to rain and the relentless Italian sun.

Keller, a Yale art professor and portrait painter serving with the U.S. Army’s Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives Section, brought together Army engineers and Italian specialists to save what remained. They gathered countless fragments and constructed a temporary roof over the Camposanto.

“This is the biggest job I have had of its kind,” he wrote to his wife, Kathy. “I wonder if this whole story will ever come out for people to know about and to realize—I doubt it.”

The work he began continued for decades, and the people of Pisa never forgot him.

When Keller died in 1992, he was laid to rest inside the monument he had fought so hard to preserve. His gravestone ends with the Latin words “Amicissimus ad amicos.”

The very dear friend had returned to his friends.

“The very dear friend returned to his friends.”

On September 2, 1944, Monuments Man Captain Deane Keller entered Pisa—a city whose treasures he already knew well from his years as an art student in Italy.

What he found was devastating.

The roof of the Camposanto Monumentale had been destroyed by fire. Its magnificent frescoes were badly damaged, and thousands of fragments lay scattered across the floor, exposed to rain and the relentless Italian sun.

Keller, a Yale art professor and portrait painter serving with the U.S. Army’s Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives Section, brought together Army engineers and Italian specialists to save what remained. They gathered countless fragments and constructed a temporary roof over the Camposanto.

“This is the biggest job I have had of its kind,” he wrote to his wife, Kathy. “I wonder if this whole story will ever come out for people to know about and to realize—I doubt it.”

The work he began continued for decades, and the people of Pisa never forgot him.

When Keller died in 1992, he was laid to rest inside the monument he had fought so hard to preserve. His gravestone ends with the Latin words “Amicissimus ad amicos.”

The very dear friend had returned to his friends.

“My action regarding the ERR had not been useless.”

When Nazi Germany occupied Paris, the Jeu de Paume museum became a clearinghouse for art looted from Jewish collectors across Europe.

One French employee was permitted to remain: Rose Valland.

Unassuming and fluent in German—a fact she carefully concealed—Rose quietly recorded the artists, shipments, and destinations connected to the Nazis’ vast looting operation.

In August 1944, 148 crates containing hundreds of paintings by some of the world’s greatest artists were loaded onto five rail cars bound for Germany.

Rose recorded the rail car numbers and details of their contents, passing the information to Jacques Jaujard, director of France’s National Museums, who relayed it to the French Resistance.

Mechanical problems, blocked tracks, and the chaos of the German retreat delayed the train.

Eighty-two years ago today, on August 27, 1944—two days after the liberation of Paris—French forces secured it at Aulnay-sous-Bois.

By an extraordinary twist of fate, the commanding officer was Alexandre Rosenberg, son of the renowned art dealer Paul Rosenberg, whose collection was heavily represented among the recovered works.

Hundreds of paintings had been saved.

Rose later called it “a modern triumph”—but it was only the beginning.

Her secret notes became a map that would help the Monuments Men unravel one of the greatest treasure hunts in history.

“My action regarding the ERR had not been useless.”

When Nazi Germany occupied Paris, the Jeu de Paume museum became a clearinghouse for art looted from Jewish collectors across Europe.

One French employee was permitted to remain: Rose Valland.

Unassuming and fluent in German—a fact she carefully concealed—Rose quietly recorded the artists, shipments, and destinations connected to the Nazis’ vast looting operation.

In August 1944, 148 crates containing hundreds of paintings by some of the world’s greatest artists were loaded onto five rail cars bound for Germany.

Rose recorded the rail car numbers and details of their contents, passing the information to Jacques Jaujard, director of France’s National Museums, who relayed it to the French Resistance.

Mechanical problems, blocked tracks, and the chaos of the German retreat delayed the train.

Eighty-two years ago today, on August 27, 1944—two days after the liberation of Paris—French forces secured it at Aulnay-sous-Bois.

By an extraordinary twist of fate, the commanding officer was Alexandre Rosenberg, son of the renowned art dealer Paul Rosenberg, whose collection was heavily represented among the recovered works.

Hundreds of paintings had been saved.

Rose later called it “a modern triumph”—but it was only the beginning.

Her secret notes became a map that would help the Monuments Men unravel one of the greatest treasure hunts in history.

“I think that I have never been happier.”

On August 25, 1944, after four years of German occupation, Paris was liberated.

The photographs from that day show crowds pouring into the streets, celebrating their newfound freedom.

But for the Monuments Men, liberation meant something more.

The battle for Europe was not yet over. And neither was the battle to protect its history.

James Rorimer, one of the Monuments Men and a curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, had hoped to be assigned to Paris. He wrote to his wife that it was “the plum of all the jobs in Europe for one with my background.”

He had spent weeks in Normandy inspecting monuments and assessing the damage caused by the war. Now, at last, he was headed for the City of Light.

Rorimer entered Paris atop a U.S. Army tank and was assigned to the Seine Section of the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program. His work would include investigating the systematic looting of French private art collections by the Nazis.

The photograph accompanying this post shows Rorimer in France in August 1944 with Goya’s “Time and the Old Women,” a painting that had been safely protected during the war at Château du Grand-Lucé, a stately home in the Loire Valley that served as a wartime refuge for some of France’s greatest masterpieces.

The liberation of Paris was a moment of victory. But for Rorimer and his fellow Monuments Men, it was also the beginning of another mission: to find what had been stolen, protect what had survived, and help return Europe’s cultural treasures to their rightful owners.

Because what does liberation mean if a nation’s cultural heritage has been lost?

And in Paris, Rorimer was about to encounter a woman who had been secretly documenting that theft from inside the occupied city.

Her name was Rose Valland.

Their paths would soon cross, setting in motion one of the most remarkable chapters in the story of the Monuments Men.

“I think that I have never been happier.”

On August 25, 1944, after four years of German occupation, Paris was liberated.

The photographs from that day show crowds pouring into the streets, celebrating their newfound freedom.

But for the Monuments Men, liberation meant something more.

The battle for Europe was not yet over. And neither was the battle to protect its history.

James Rorimer, one of the Monuments Men and a curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, had hoped to be assigned to Paris. He wrote to his wife that it was “the plum of all the jobs in Europe for one with my background.”

He had spent weeks in Normandy inspecting monuments and assessing the damage caused by the war. Now, at last, he was headed for the City of Light.

Rorimer entered Paris atop a U.S. Army tank and was assigned to the Seine Section of the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program. His work would include investigating the systematic looting of French private art collections by the Nazis.

The photograph accompanying this post shows Rorimer in France in August 1944 with Goya’s “Time and the Old Women,” a painting that had been safely protected during the war at Château du Grand-Lucé, a stately home in the Loire Valley that served as a wartime refuge for some of France’s greatest masterpieces.

The liberation of Paris was a moment of victory. But for Rorimer and his fellow Monuments Men, it was also the beginning of another mission: to find what had been stolen, protect what had survived, and help return Europe’s cultural treasures to their rightful owners.

Because what does liberation mean if a nation’s cultural heritage has been lost?

And in Paris, Rorimer was about to encounter a woman who had been secretly documenting that theft from inside the occupied city.

Her name was Rose Valland.

Their paths would soon cross, setting in motion one of the most remarkable chapters in the story of the Monuments Men.

It’s hard to believe summer is already over and the first day of school is here!

Just a few weeks ago, these backpacks were filled with hiking gear and snacks as we headed out on new adventures. Today, they’re packed with books and ready for everything the new school year brings.

We’re happy to be back in the swing of things, although I’d gladly trade this Texas heat for some mountain air.

Here’s to a great start to the school year and a wonderful week ahead for everyone!

It’s hard to believe summer is already over and the first day of school is here!

Just a few weeks ago, these backpacks were filled with hiking gear and snacks as we headed out on new adventures. Today, they’re packed with books and ready for everything the new school year brings.

We’re happy to be back in the swing of things, although I’d gladly trade this Texas heat for some mountain air.

Here’s to a great start to the school year and a wonderful week ahead for everyone!

“Your ‘brain child’ has finally taken shape... you seem to me the real father of the whole show.”

83 years ago today, an idea became a mission.

On August 20, 1943, the American Commission for the Protection and Salvage of Artistic and Historic Monuments in War Areas—better known as the Roberts Commission—was officially established, laying the groundwork for the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program.

The Commission identified cultural treasures at risk, advised the U.S. military on their protection, and recommended qualified personnel to serve in the field.

But the story began before the Monuments Men entered Europe’s bombed cities. It began with people who could see what was coming—among them, George Leslie Stout.

A pioneer in modern art conservation, Stout understood that what civilization had created over centuries needed protection. He helped establish the American Defense Harvard Group, bringing together scholars and experts whose work proved instrumental in the creation of the Roberts Commission.

Just weeks after the Commission was established, Harvard art historian Paul J. Sachs wrote Stout the words above—a remarkable glimpse into how his contribution was viewed at the time.

We know the stories of the Monuments Men who risked their lives to protect monuments, locate missing works of art, and recover what the Nazis had stolen.

But before there could be a mission, there was an idea.

83 years later, its legacy lives on in the museums, churches, and historic places that survived the war.

“Your ‘brain child’ has finally taken shape... you seem to me the real father of the whole show.”

83 years ago today, an idea became a mission.

On August 20, 1943, the American Commission for the Protection and Salvage of Artistic and Historic Monuments in War Areas—better known as the Roberts Commission—was officially established, laying the groundwork for the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program.

The Commission identified cultural treasures at risk, advised the U.S. military on their protection, and recommended qualified personnel to serve in the field.

But the story began before the Monuments Men entered Europe’s bombed cities. It began with people who could see what was coming—among them, George Leslie Stout.

A pioneer in modern art conservation, Stout understood that what civilization had created over centuries needed protection. He helped establish the American Defense Harvard Group, bringing together scholars and experts whose work proved instrumental in the creation of the Roberts Commission.

Just weeks after the Commission was established, Harvard art historian Paul J. Sachs wrote Stout the words above—a remarkable glimpse into how his contribution was viewed at the time.

We know the stories of the Monuments Men who risked their lives to protect monuments, locate missing works of art, and recover what the Nazis had stolen.

But before there could be a mission, there was an idea.

83 years later, its legacy lives on in the museums, churches, and historic places that survived the war.

If you have ever traveled through Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station, you may have walked right past one of Monuments Man Walker Hancock’s great masterpieces.

This week marks 74 years since the Pennsylvania Railroad World War II Memorial was dedicated. On August 10, 1952, the memorial was unveiled to honor the 1,307 Pennsylvania Railroad employees who lost their lives during the war, each of their names inscribed so they would never be forgotten.

At its center stands Hancock’s extraordinary bronze sculpture, Angel of the Resurrection. The angel lifts the soul of a fallen soldier from the flames of war, a powerful image of sacrifice, loss, and hope.

Seventy-four years later, as trains arrive and depart and travelers hurry through the station, Hancock’s powerful tribute still stands, ensuring that the sacrifice of the 1,307 men it was created to honor lives on.

If you have ever traveled through Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station, you may have walked right past one of Monuments Man Walker Hancock’s great masterpieces.

This week marks 74 years since the Pennsylvania Railroad World War II Memorial was dedicated. On August 10, 1952, the memorial was unveiled to honor the 1,307 Pennsylvania Railroad employees who lost their lives during the war, each of their names inscribed so they would never be forgotten.

At its center stands Hancock’s extraordinary bronze sculpture, Angel of the Resurrection. The angel lifts the soul of a fallen soldier from the flames of war, a powerful image of sacrifice, loss, and hope.

Seventy-four years later, as trains arrive and depart and travelers hurry through the station, Hancock’s powerful tribute still stands, ensuring that the sacrifice of the 1,307 men it was created to honor lives on.

Happy birthday to my dear friend, Rod Laver. 🎾

Long before I was an author, I was a kid with a tennis racket in my hand, dreaming that maybe one day I could play the sport professionally.

Like so many young players, I looked up to the greats, and few names in tennis history stand taller than Rod Laver. His talent, determination, and sportsmanship made him a legend, but those who know Rod also know the kindness and humility behind the achievements.

Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to call Rod a friend. During our visit earlier this year, I had the joy of watching him spend time with my son, Rodney, who was named in his honor. Seeing the two of them together, the champion I admired as a boy and the son who carries his name, was a pretty special moment for me. I never could have imagined where that tennis racket would eventually lead me.

Happy birthday, my friend! Here’s to many more.

Happy birthday to my dear friend, Rod Laver. 🎾

Long before I was an author, I was a kid with a tennis racket in my hand, dreaming that maybe one day I could play the sport professionally.

Like so many young players, I looked up to the greats, and few names in tennis history stand taller than Rod Laver. His talent, determination, and sportsmanship made him a legend, but those who know Rod also know the kindness and humility behind the achievements.

Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to call Rod a friend. During our visit earlier this year, I had the joy of watching him spend time with my son, Rodney, who was named in his honor. Seeing the two of them together, the champion I admired as a boy and the son who carries his name, was a pretty special moment for me. I never could have imagined where that tennis racket would eventually lead me.

Happy birthday, my friend! Here’s to many more.

The story of the Monuments Men didn’t end in Europe.

81 years ago today, the atomic bombing of Hiroshima marked a turning point in World War II. Japan’s surrender would follow days later, bringing the war to a close, but the end of conflict brought another critical mission.

Even before the fighting had ended, the Monuments Men recognized that Japan’s extraordinary cultural heritage would need protection. They recommended establishing a Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives (MFAA) division in Japan, and the Arts and Monuments Division was soon created within General MacArthur’s headquarters in Tokyo.

As Chief of the Arts and Monuments Division, George Stout laid the foundation for the Monuments Men’s work in the Pacific Theater. Among those who served in the division were Langdon Warner, Maj. Laurence Sickman, Lt. Richard S. Davis, Capt. Walter D. Popham, Lt. Sherman Lee, Howard Hollis, Lennox Tierney, and Motoko Fujishiro, as well as other dedicated officers and specialists. Together, they assessed damage to cultural sites, documented and inventoried works of art, and helped protect ancient temples, shrines, museums, and other historic landmarks.

By encouraging the display of Japanese art and organizing exhibitions that helped reintroduce Japan’s artistic legacy, they also played an influential role in helping revive postwar cultural activities. Their efforts not only preserved Japan’s heritage but also helped revitalize cultural life in the years that followed.

Whether recovering stolen masterpieces in Europe or protecting centuries of history in Japan, the Monuments Men and Women understood that the aftermath of war was not only about rebuilding what had been destroyed. It was also about preserving the history, culture, and memory that give civilizations their identity.

📸: George Leslie Stout, Langdon Warner, and Japanese officials at Nishi Honganji temple in Kyoto, Japan. Source: George Leslie Stout papers, 1855, 1897-1978; Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

The story of the Monuments Men didn’t end in Europe.

81 years ago today, the atomic bombing of Hiroshima marked a turning point in World War II. Japan’s surrender would follow days later, bringing the war to a close, but the end of conflict brought another critical mission.

Even before the fighting had ended, the Monuments Men recognized that Japan’s extraordinary cultural heritage would need protection. They recommended establishing a Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives (MFAA) division in Japan, and the Arts and Monuments Division was soon created within General MacArthur’s headquarters in Tokyo.

As Chief of the Arts and Monuments Division, George Stout laid the foundation for the Monuments Men’s work in the Pacific Theater. Among those who served in the division were Langdon Warner, Maj. Laurence Sickman, Lt. Richard S. Davis, Capt. Walter D. Popham, Lt. Sherman Lee, Howard Hollis, Lennox Tierney, and Motoko Fujishiro, as well as other dedicated officers and specialists. Together, they assessed damage to cultural sites, documented and inventoried works of art, and helped protect ancient temples, shrines, museums, and other historic landmarks.

By encouraging the display of Japanese art and organizing exhibitions that helped reintroduce Japan’s artistic legacy, they also played an influential role in helping revive postwar cultural activities. Their efforts not only preserved Japan’s heritage but also helped revitalize cultural life in the years that followed.

Whether recovering stolen masterpieces in Europe or protecting centuries of history in Japan, the Monuments Men and Women understood that the aftermath of war was not only about rebuilding what had been destroyed. It was also about preserving the history, culture, and memory that give civilizations their identity.

📸: George Leslie Stout, Langdon Warner, and Japanese officials at Nishi Honganji temple in Kyoto, Japan. Source: George Leslie Stout papers, 1855, 1897-1978; Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

“How can I help?”

In 2006, those four words, spoken by Congresswoman Kay Granger (@repkaygranger ) , changed not only my life’s work, but helped ensure that the service and sacrifice of the Monuments Men and Women of World War II would finally receive the recognition they deserved from the United States government.

What made that moment unforgettable was that Kay meant it. She never wavered. She kept that promise for nearly two decades, becoming one of the driving forces behind our effort to secure the Congressional Gold Medal for the Monuments Men and Women. Her steadfast belief in our mission changed the course of our work at the Monuments Men and Women Foundation (@monumentsmenandwomenfnd) . It also transformed my life.

Today we mourn the passing of a great Texan and an extraordinary public servant.

America is better because she served, and I am profoundly grateful that our paths crossed. Rest in peace, dear friend.

I hope you’ll take a moment to read my full tribute to Kay Granger: https://www.robertedsel.com/post/remembering-congresswoman-kay-granger

“How can I help?”

In 2006, those four words, spoken by Congresswoman Kay Granger (@repkaygranger ) , changed not only my life’s work, but helped ensure that the service and sacrifice of the Monuments Men and Women of World War II would finally receive the recognition they deserved from the United States government.

What made that moment unforgettable was that Kay meant it. She never wavered. She kept that promise for nearly two decades, becoming one of the driving forces behind our effort to secure the Congressional Gold Medal for the Monuments Men and Women. Her steadfast belief in our mission changed the course of our work at the Monuments Men and Women Foundation (@monumentsmenandwomenfnd) . It also transformed my life.

Today we mourn the passing of a great Texan and an extraordinary public servant.

America is better because she served, and I am profoundly grateful that our paths crossed. Rest in peace, dear friend.

I hope you’ll take a moment to read my full tribute to Kay Granger: https://www.robertedsel.com/post/remembering-congresswoman-kay-granger

As another week comes to a close, it’s hard to believe summer is beginning to wind down.

Before long, school will be back in session, and our family calendars will fill with homework, sports practices, meetings, and deadlines. I’ve always appreciated the way summer gives us a chance to slow down a bit and spend more time with family, making memories that are often hard to fit into the rest of the year. Stepping away from the daily routine every now and then to breathe in the fresh air, with no agenda and no distractions, is good for the soul.

As much as I’ll miss these slower summer days, every new season brings fresh opportunities and mountains worth climbing. I’m looking forward to what’s ahead, and I hope you are too.

As Dr. Seuss said so well:

“You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way!”

As another week comes to a close, it’s hard to believe summer is beginning to wind down.

Before long, school will be back in session, and our family calendars will fill with homework, sports practices, meetings, and deadlines. I’ve always appreciated the way summer gives us a chance to slow down a bit and spend more time with family, making memories that are often hard to fit into the rest of the year. Stepping away from the daily routine every now and then to breathe in the fresh air, with no agenda and no distractions, is good for the soul.

As much as I’ll miss these slower summer days, every new season brings fresh opportunities and mountains worth climbing. I’m looking forward to what’s ahead, and I hope you are too.

As Dr. Seuss said so well:

“You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way!”

Few places in the world offer a view as unforgettable as Piazzale Michelangelo overlooking Florence. For generations, artists, writers, and travelers have stood here, inspired by the city that helped shape the Renaissance.

In 1938, Adolf Hitler was photographed at this overlook with Benito Mussolini as Europe moved ever closer to war. Just a few years later, the fate of Florence’s bridges, churches, museums, and masterpieces would become a matter of international concern.

Whenever I visit Florence, I can’t help but think about how close the world came to losing so much of what makes this city unforgettable. It was here that I first found myself asking a simple question: How did so many monuments and works of art survive the most destructive war in history, and who were the people who saved them?

The search for that answer changed the course of my life. It led me to the story of the Monuments Men and Women and to a lifelong commitment to ensure their achievements are never forgotten, and that their legacy continues to inspire future generations to protect the cultural heritage that belongs to all of us.

Few places in the world offer a view as unforgettable as Piazzale Michelangelo overlooking Florence. For generations, artists, writers, and travelers have stood here, inspired by the city that helped shape the Renaissance.

In 1938, Adolf Hitler was photographed at this overlook with Benito Mussolini as Europe moved ever closer to war. Just a few years later, the fate of Florence’s bridges, churches, museums, and masterpieces would become a matter of international concern.

Whenever I visit Florence, I can’t help but think about how close the world came to losing so much of what makes this city unforgettable. It was here that I first found myself asking a simple question: How did so many monuments and works of art survive the most destructive war in history, and who were the people who saved them?

The search for that answer changed the course of my life. It led me to the story of the Monuments Men and Women and to a lifelong commitment to ensure their achievements are never forgotten, and that their legacy continues to inspire future generations to protect the cultural heritage that belongs to all of us.

Preserving our shared heritage doesn’t happen by accident.

For decades, my friend Simonetta Brandolini d’Adda, together with the dedicated Board of Friends of Florence (@friendsofflorence) , has made possible the conservation of some of Florence’s greatest treasures. Their work is not simply about restoring works of art, but ensuring they continue to educate and inspire future generations who visit one of the world’s greatest centers of art and culture.

Their latest accomplishment, the conservation of the magnificent San Domenico Altarpiece (Madonna and Child with Saints) by Fra Angelico and Lorenzo di Credi, is a perfect example. Painted more than 600 years ago at the dawn of the Renaissance, this extraordinary work is among Fra Angelico’s earliest major works. In 1501, Lorenzo di Credi altered the background to reflect changing artistic tastes. Over the centuries, the altarpiece was dismantled, its components separated, and its beauty obscured by layers of candle soot and the inevitable effects of time.

Now, thanks to the remarkable skill of conservators and the steadfast commitment of Friends of Florence, after a two-year restoration effort this masterpiece has returned to its original home in the Church of San Domenico in Fiesole, where it can once again be experienced by visitors from around the world.

Great works of art do not survive by chance. Whether rescued from war, restored after centuries of wear, or safeguarded through visionary philanthropy, these treasures remain part of our shared story only because dedicated people invest the time, expertise, and resources to preserve them for those who will follow.

My congratulations and deepest gratitude to Simonetta, the Board of Friends of Florence, and the many conservators, patrons, and supporters whose unwavering commitment ensures that Florence’s artistic legacy will continue to inspire generations to come.

The restoration video offers a fascinating glimpse into the incredible craftsmanship and care required to bring a Renaissance masterpiece back to life.

I encourage you to watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JihH-xPoJk0

Preserving our shared heritage doesn’t happen by accident.

For decades, my friend Simonetta Brandolini d’Adda, together with the dedicated Board of Friends of Florence (@friendsofflorence) , has made possible the conservation of some of Florence’s greatest treasures. Their work is not simply about restoring works of art, but ensuring they continue to educate and inspire future generations who visit one of the world’s greatest centers of art and culture.

Their latest accomplishment, the conservation of the magnificent San Domenico Altarpiece (Madonna and Child with Saints) by Fra Angelico and Lorenzo di Credi, is a perfect example. Painted more than 600 years ago at the dawn of the Renaissance, this extraordinary work is among Fra Angelico’s earliest major works. In 1501, Lorenzo di Credi altered the background to reflect changing artistic tastes. Over the centuries, the altarpiece was dismantled, its components separated, and its beauty obscured by layers of candle soot and the inevitable effects of time.

Now, thanks to the remarkable skill of conservators and the steadfast commitment of Friends of Florence, after a two-year restoration effort this masterpiece has returned to its original home in the Church of San Domenico in Fiesole, where it can once again be experienced by visitors from around the world.

Great works of art do not survive by chance. Whether rescued from war, restored after centuries of wear, or safeguarded through visionary philanthropy, these treasures remain part of our shared story only because dedicated people invest the time, expertise, and resources to preserve them for those who will follow.

My congratulations and deepest gratitude to Simonetta, the Board of Friends of Florence, and the many conservators, patrons, and supporters whose unwavering commitment ensures that Florence’s artistic legacy will continue to inspire generations to come.

The restoration video offers a fascinating glimpse into the incredible craftsmanship and care required to bring a Renaissance masterpiece back to life.

I encourage you to watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JihH-xPoJk0

Travel opens our eyes to places we may have only read about.

This week, I received a note from American Airlines (@americanair ) recognizing my 44-year AAdvantage anniversary. Looking back on the many miles traveled, I’m grateful for the unforgettable moments they’ve made possible.

Some journeys have led to remarkable places. Others have led to lifelong friendships, unexpected discoveries, and experiences that changed the course of my work and my life. Along the way, I’ve been fortunate to help bring forgotten stories back to light.

As we head into the weekend, I hope you find a little time for exploration, whether it’s a trip across the globe or simply discovering something new close to home.

Wherever the journey takes you, enjoy the ride!

Travel opens our eyes to places we may have only read about.

This week, I received a note from American Airlines (@americanair ) recognizing my 44-year AAdvantage anniversary. Looking back on the many miles traveled, I’m grateful for the unforgettable moments they’ve made possible.

Some journeys have led to remarkable places. Others have led to lifelong friendships, unexpected discoveries, and experiences that changed the course of my work and my life. Along the way, I’ve been fortunate to help bring forgotten stories back to light.

As we head into the weekend, I hope you find a little time for exploration, whether it’s a trip across the globe or simply discovering something new close to home.

Wherever the journey takes you, enjoy the ride!

The first time you step inside Monreale Cathedral in Sicily, it’s difficult to know where to look.

More than 68,000 square feet of shimmering Byzantine-style gold-glass mosaics cover the walls and ceilings, illustrating stories from the Old and New Testaments in extraordinary detail. Created in the late 12th century, they remain one of the largest and most breathtaking mosaic cycles in the world. A masterpiece of faith, artistry, and craftsmanship, Monreale Cathedral has inspired visitors for more than 800 years and is recognized as part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

When Allied forces landed in Sicily in 1943, they entered a land filled with irreplaceable cultural treasures. Among the first Monuments Men on the island was Mason Hammond, who understood that protecting Italy’s churches, monuments, and works of art was about far more than preserving beautiful buildings. It was about safeguarding the history, identity, and achievements of civilization itself.

Standing beneath these golden mosaics, it’s easy to understand why the Monuments Men believed humanity’s greatest treasures were worth risking their lives to protect, and why preserving our shared heritage remains one of our greatest responsibilities.

The first time you step inside Monreale Cathedral in Sicily, it’s difficult to know where to look.

More than 68,000 square feet of shimmering Byzantine-style gold-glass mosaics cover the walls and ceilings, illustrating stories from the Old and New Testaments in extraordinary detail. Created in the late 12th century, they remain one of the largest and most breathtaking mosaic cycles in the world. A masterpiece of faith, artistry, and craftsmanship, Monreale Cathedral has inspired visitors for more than 800 years and is recognized as part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

When Allied forces landed in Sicily in 1943, they entered a land filled with irreplaceable cultural treasures. Among the first Monuments Men on the island was Mason Hammond, who understood that protecting Italy’s churches, monuments, and works of art was about far more than preserving beautiful buildings. It was about safeguarding the history, identity, and achievements of civilization itself.

Standing beneath these golden mosaics, it’s easy to understand why the Monuments Men believed humanity’s greatest treasures were worth risking their lives to protect, and why preserving our shared heritage remains one of our greatest responsibilities.

“I lost my heart to Italy at the time of my very first visit to that beautiful land.”

Those words belong to Monuments Man Fred Hartt, whose love for Italy would shape the course of his life.

An art historian by training, Fred volunteered to leave the safety of a desk job during World War II because he wanted to help protect Italy’s cultural heritage. Alongside Deane Keller and the other Monuments Men in Italy, he helped recover some of the world’s greatest works of art. His remarkable story later became one of the central narratives in my book, “Saving Italy.”

Years after his death, Florence welcomed him home with full honors. Today, he rests at San Miniato al Monte, overlooking the very skyline he worked so hard to protect. I took this photo there just as a summer thunderstorm rolled toward the city.

There are many ways a person can leave a legacy. Fred Hartt’s can be seen across Florence. Because of him, so much beauty endures.

Discover more about the life and legacy of Monuments Man Fred Hartt: https://www.monumentsmenandwomenfnd.org/monuments-men-and-women/frederick-hartt @monumentsmenandwomenfnd

“I lost my heart to Italy at the time of my very first visit to that beautiful land.”

Those words belong to Monuments Man Fred Hartt, whose love for Italy would shape the course of his life.

An art historian by training, Fred volunteered to leave the safety of a desk job during World War II because he wanted to help protect Italy’s cultural heritage. Alongside Deane Keller and the other Monuments Men in Italy, he helped recover some of the world’s greatest works of art. His remarkable story later became one of the central narratives in my book, “Saving Italy.”

Years after his death, Florence welcomed him home with full honors. Today, he rests at San Miniato al Monte, overlooking the very skyline he worked so hard to protect. I took this photo there just as a summer thunderstorm rolled toward the city.

There are many ways a person can leave a legacy. Fred Hartt’s can be seen across Florence. Because of him, so much beauty endures.

Discover more about the life and legacy of Monuments Man Fred Hartt: https://www.monumentsmenandwomenfnd.org/monuments-men-and-women/frederick-hartt @monumentsmenandwomenfnd

Recently, I had the pleasure of joining History Camp (@historycampofficial ) to discuss the extraordinary sacrifices made by the Americans who helped liberate the Netherlands, the gratitude that has endured for more than eight decades, and the Forever Promise that continues today.

These conversations remind me that there is still a tremendous appetite for history when it’s told through the lives of ordinary people who did extraordinary things.

My thanks to the team at History Camp for the invitation and thoughtful discussion, and for creating a place where history lovers, researchers, authors, and lifelong learners can come together to explore the stories that continue to shape our world.

You can watch our full discussion here: https://historycamp.org/robert-m-edsel-remember-us-american-sacrifice-dutch-freedom-and-a-forever-promise-forged-in-world-war-ii/

Recently, I had the pleasure of joining History Camp (@historycampofficial ) to discuss the extraordinary sacrifices made by the Americans who helped liberate the Netherlands, the gratitude that has endured for more than eight decades, and the Forever Promise that continues today.

These conversations remind me that there is still a tremendous appetite for history when it’s told through the lives of ordinary people who did extraordinary things.

My thanks to the team at History Camp for the invitation and thoughtful discussion, and for creating a place where history lovers, researchers, authors, and lifelong learners can come together to explore the stories that continue to shape our world.

You can watch our full discussion here: https://historycamp.org/robert-m-edsel-remember-us-american-sacrifice-dutch-freedom-and-a-forever-promise-forged-in-world-war-ii/

Italy has inspired some of history’s greatest artists, architects, and thinkers. But on this day, my favorite view wasn’t a famous cathedral or masterpiece.

It was watching my two boys disappear down a centuries-old cobblestone street, exploring the country where their mother grew up. I love seeing their faces light up when they realize they are walking the same streets their mom once explored with their grandparents when she was their age.

There is something magical about summer weekends like these, when we can slow down, revisit family traditions, and create new memories together.

I hope your weekend also included time with family, friends, and a little adventure before summer slips away!

Italy has inspired some of history’s greatest artists, architects, and thinkers. But on this day, my favorite view wasn’t a famous cathedral or masterpiece.

It was watching my two boys disappear down a centuries-old cobblestone street, exploring the country where their mother grew up. I love seeing their faces light up when they realize they are walking the same streets their mom once explored with their grandparents when she was their age.

There is something magical about summer weekends like these, when we can slow down, revisit family traditions, and create new memories together.

I hope your weekend also included time with family, friends, and a little adventure before summer slips away!

One of the greatest rewards of this work is seeing others embrace the mission.

Last year, I had the honor of speaking at the The American Legion (@theamericanlegion), where I shared the story of the Forever Promise Project (@foreverpromiseproject) and the extraordinary tradition of Dutch families caring for the graves of American liberators.

Earlier this summer, The American Legion Magazine continued that conversation by featuring my book ‘Remember Us’ and the work of the Forever Promise Project on their May cover, helping bring this remarkable story to veterans and families across America.

For more than 80 years, Dutch families have kept a promise they never had to make.

Veterans understand better than most that service doesn’t end when the war does. Sometimes, it continues through remembrance—by ensuring that the sacrifices of those who never came home are never forgotten.

My sincere thanks to The American Legion and its members for helping keep these stories alive and for honoring the enduring bond between the United States and the Netherlands.

May we all continue to honor those who served by ensuring their stories—and their sacrifices—are always remembered.

Read the full story here: https://www.legion.org/information-center/news/honor/2026/may/the-forever-promise

One of the greatest rewards of this work is seeing others embrace the mission.

Last year, I had the honor of speaking at the The American Legion (@theamericanlegion), where I shared the story of the Forever Promise Project (@foreverpromiseproject) and the extraordinary tradition of Dutch families caring for the graves of American liberators.

Earlier this summer, The American Legion Magazine continued that conversation by featuring my book ‘Remember Us’ and the work of the Forever Promise Project on their May cover, helping bring this remarkable story to veterans and families across America.

For more than 80 years, Dutch families have kept a promise they never had to make.

Veterans understand better than most that service doesn’t end when the war does. Sometimes, it continues through remembrance—by ensuring that the sacrifices of those who never came home are never forgotten.

My sincere thanks to The American Legion and its members for helping keep these stories alive and for honoring the enduring bond between the United States and the Netherlands.

May we all continue to honor those who served by ensuring their stories—and their sacrifices—are always remembered.

Read the full story here: https://www.legion.org/information-center/news/honor/2026/may/the-forever-promise

America’s 250th birthday is more than a celebration of our past. It is an invitation to consider the future we hope to leave behind.

Fireworks will light the sky tonight. They’ll last only a few moments, but the freedom they celebrate has endured for 250 years because generations of Americans were willing to defend it, often at extraordinary sacrifice.

History teaches that liberty survives only when each generation accepts responsibility for preserving it.

This Independence Day, as I watch American flags waving far from home, I am reminded of those who made this day possible.

We inherited the freedoms they secured. May we prove worthy of their sacrifice.

Happy 250th Birthday, America. 🇺🇸

America’s 250th birthday is more than a celebration of our past. It is an invitation to consider the future we hope to leave behind.

Fireworks will light the sky tonight. They’ll last only a few moments, but the freedom they celebrate has endured for 250 years because generations of Americans were willing to defend it, often at extraordinary sacrifice.

History teaches that liberty survives only when each generation accepts responsibility for preserving it.

This Independence Day, as I watch American flags waving far from home, I am reminded of those who made this day possible.

We inherited the freedoms they secured. May we prove worthy of their sacrifice.

Happy 250th Birthday, America. 🇺🇸

Some flags fly over town squares.

Others rest quietly in places where freedom came at an unimaginable cost.

This week, as America celebrates 250 years, more than 8,000 Americans lie beneath white marble crosses and Stars of David at the Netherlands American Cemetery, thousands of miles from home.

For more than 80 years, every one of those graves has been lovingly cared for by Dutch families. Their enduring gratitude is a reminder that the ideals born in 1776 reached far beyond our own shores, and never belonged only to Americans.

Sometimes we understand our nation’s greatest gifts most clearly through the eyes of those who depended upon them.

As we commemorate 250 years of American independence, I find myself thinking not only of those who declared our independence, but also of the generations who answered the call to defend it. Their courage preserved more than a country. It preserved an idea—that liberty is worth defending.

Some flags fly over town squares.

Others rest quietly in places where freedom came at an unimaginable cost.

This week, as America celebrates 250 years, more than 8,000 Americans lie beneath white marble crosses and Stars of David at the Netherlands American Cemetery, thousands of miles from home.

For more than 80 years, every one of those graves has been lovingly cared for by Dutch families. Their enduring gratitude is a reminder that the ideals born in 1776 reached far beyond our own shores, and never belonged only to Americans.

Sometimes we understand our nation’s greatest gifts most clearly through the eyes of those who depended upon them.

As we commemorate 250 years of American independence, I find myself thinking not only of those who declared our independence, but also of the generations who answered the call to defend it. Their courage preserved more than a country. It preserved an idea—that liberty is worth defending.

“Whatever you end up doing, love it.”

Fans of Cinema Paradiso will recognize these words from one of the film’s most memorable scenes. I’ve loved that movie for years, so visiting Palazzo Adriano, the tiny Sicilian town where much of it was filmed, felt a bit like stepping into a story that had long lived in my imagination.

Few of us end up where we thought we would when we were young, yet the passions that shape us often remain constant. My own path—from aspiring tennis player to building and selling an oil and gas exploration company, then turning to art and architecture—eventually led me to the story of the Monuments Men.

Along the way, I’ve learned that the individuals who leave the greatest mark on the world are rarely those chasing recognition. They’re the ones who pour themselves fully into something they genuinely care about.

As Alfredo tells Toto in Cinema Paradiso, “Life isn’t like in the movies. Life… is much harder.”

He’s right.

Standing in this small Sicilian town with my boys, my hope for them is simple: that they follow their passions and build a life that feels like a calling.

And whatever they end up doing, I hope they love it.

“Whatever you end up doing, love it.”

Fans of Cinema Paradiso will recognize these words from one of the film’s most memorable scenes. I’ve loved that movie for years, so visiting Palazzo Adriano, the tiny Sicilian town where much of it was filmed, felt a bit like stepping into a story that had long lived in my imagination.

Few of us end up where we thought we would when we were young, yet the passions that shape us often remain constant. My own path—from aspiring tennis player to building and selling an oil and gas exploration company, then turning to art and architecture—eventually led me to the story of the Monuments Men.

Along the way, I’ve learned that the individuals who leave the greatest mark on the world are rarely those chasing recognition. They’re the ones who pour themselves fully into something they genuinely care about.

As Alfredo tells Toto in Cinema Paradiso, “Life isn’t like in the movies. Life… is much harder.”

He’s right.

Standing in this small Sicilian town with my boys, my hope for them is simple: that they follow their passions and build a life that feels like a calling.

And whatever they end up doing, I hope they love it.

Some of life’s greatest responsibilities are also its greatest privileges.

Being a father has taught me lessons no classroom or boardroom ever could. Patience. Perspective. Humility. And the importance of leading not by words alone, but by example.

I’ve spent much of my life preserving stories about the people and places that helped shape the world we know today. Fatherhood has given me an even deeper appreciation for why those stories matter. Standing with my boys surrounded by history is not only about honoring the past, but about helping guide their future.

I miss my dad today, but I’m grateful for the example he set. I hope that one day my boys will look back and feel the same gratitude for the time we spent together, the memories we made, and the values I worked to pass on.

To all fathers, grandfathers, stepfathers, and father figures, Happy Father’s Day. And to the fathers serving far from home today, thank you for the sacrifices you make every day.

Some of life’s greatest responsibilities are also its greatest privileges.

Being a father has taught me lessons no classroom or boardroom ever could. Patience. Perspective. Humility. And the importance of leading not by words alone, but by example.

I’ve spent much of my life preserving stories about the people and places that helped shape the world we know today. Fatherhood has given me an even deeper appreciation for why those stories matter. Standing with my boys surrounded by history is not only about honoring the past, but about helping guide their future.

I miss my dad today, but I’m grateful for the example he set. I hope that one day my boys will look back and feel the same gratitude for the time we spent together, the memories we made, and the values I worked to pass on.

To all fathers, grandfathers, stepfathers, and father figures, Happy Father’s Day. And to the fathers serving far from home today, thank you for the sacrifices you make every day.

Sharing history with my young sons in a place like Rome is something I’ll never take for granted. It makes me feel like I’m seeing it for the first time again too.

From the Colosseum to St. Peter’s Basilica, I love seeing the curiosity in their eyes and hearing their questions—how old are these places, who built them, and what life must have been like here so long ago.

Walking these streets, I’m reminded how small we are in the span of time, and how lucky we are to be here together in this moment!

I hope everyone gets a little time this summer to slow down, be with the people you love, and make memories that leave you inspired.

Wishing you a great weekend!

Our next stop: gelato

Sharing history with my young sons in a place like Rome is something I’ll never take for granted. It makes me feel like I’m seeing it for the first time again too.

From the Colosseum to St. Peter’s Basilica, I love seeing the curiosity in their eyes and hearing their questions—how old are these places, who built them, and what life must have been like here so long ago.

Walking these streets, I’m reminded how small we are in the span of time, and how lucky we are to be here together in this moment!

I hope everyone gets a little time this summer to slow down, be with the people you love, and make memories that leave you inspired.

Wishing you a great weekend!

Our next stop: gelato

On Women Veterans Day, I’m reminded that some of history’s most important contributions are also among the least remembered.

Among the heroes of the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program were 27 remarkable women whose work helped recover, preserve, and return cultural treasures in the aftermath of World War II.

Women like Major Mary Regan Quessenberry, who traveled throughout postwar Europe investigating looted art and helping return stolen treasures to their rightful owners, and Capt. Edith Standen—the only female member of the MFAA to receive the Bronze Star—who oversaw the restitution of thousands of cultural objects from the Wiesbaden Central Collecting Point.

Their stories remind us that service takes many forms, and that some of the most important contributions to history have too often gone unrecognized.

Today, we honor all women who have served our nation, and remember the remarkable women whose dedication helped preserve our shared cultural heritage for future generations.

Thank you to all women veterans for your service!

Read more about the Monuments Women: https://www.monumentsmenandwomenfnd.org/post/monuments-women-tribute

On Women Veterans Day, I’m reminded that some of history’s most important contributions are also among the least remembered.

Among the heroes of the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program were 27 remarkable women whose work helped recover, preserve, and return cultural treasures in the aftermath of World War II.

Women like Major Mary Regan Quessenberry, who traveled throughout postwar Europe investigating looted art and helping return stolen treasures to their rightful owners, and Capt. Edith Standen—the only female member of the MFAA to receive the Bronze Star—who oversaw the restitution of thousands of cultural objects from the Wiesbaden Central Collecting Point.

Their stories remind us that service takes many forms, and that some of the most important contributions to history have too often gone unrecognized.

Today, we honor all women who have served our nation, and remember the remarkable women whose dedication helped preserve our shared cultural heritage for future generations.

Thank you to all women veterans for your service!

Read more about the Monuments Women: https://www.monumentsmenandwomenfnd.org/post/monuments-women-tribute

What is it like to walk in the footsteps of history?

The answer is difficult to describe. Reading history is powerful. Seeing a photograph can move us. But standing in the very places where history happened is something entirely different.

This September 10–14, I will once again lead a small group through the Netherlands and surrounding areas connected to the American experience during World War II, including time at Margraten, where Dutch families still honor American graves more than 80 years later.

Thoughtfully curated, this intimate, expertly guided tour includes exceptional accommodations, memorable dining, and exclusive access beyond the typical travel experience. Along the way, guests will experience history firsthand, meet the people who continue to preserve its legacy, and conclude the trip with a visit to one of the world’s greatest artistic treasures: the Ghent Altarpiece.

A few spaces remain, and I would love for you to join me this September. Email info@robertedsel.com for additional information and a full brochure.

History is never more powerful than when you walk in the footsteps of those who lived it.

What is it like to walk in the footsteps of history?

The answer is difficult to describe. Reading history is powerful. Seeing a photograph can move us. But standing in the very places where history happened is something entirely different.

This September 10–14, I will once again lead a small group through the Netherlands and surrounding areas connected to the American experience during World War II, including time at Margraten, where Dutch families still honor American graves more than 80 years later.

Thoughtfully curated, this intimate, expertly guided tour includes exceptional accommodations, memorable dining, and exclusive access beyond the typical travel experience. Along the way, guests will experience history firsthand, meet the people who continue to preserve its legacy, and conclude the trip with a visit to one of the world’s greatest artistic treasures: the Ghent Altarpiece.

A few spaces remain, and I would love for you to join me this September. Email info@robertedsel.com for additional information and a full brochure.

History is never more powerful than when you walk in the footsteps of those who lived it.

June 6, 1944. D-Day.

Thousands of Allied soldiers climbed into landing craft, boarded transport planes, and crossed the English Channel knowing many would never return home. They went anyway—and changed the course of history.

D-Day was not inevitable. Success was not guaranteed. History was not made by dates and battle plans alone. The outcome rested on the courage, sacrifice, and determination of ordinary people asked to do extraordinary things.

Eighty-two years later, we still live in the shadow of what was accomplished that day. We still enjoy freedoms secured by a generation willing to risk everything for a cause greater than themselves—a debt we can never fully repay.

In Remember Us, I tell the stories of the soldiers, families, and Dutch citizens whose lives were forever changed by the events of World War II, including Lieutenant Colonel Robert Cole of the 101st Airborne Division, who parachuted into Normandy in the opening hours of D-Day.

On this D-Day anniversary, I invite you to reflect on the bravery and selflessness that made June 6, 1944, one of the most consequential days in modern history.

For those who would like to learn more, I am making the “D-Day” chapter from Remember Us available to read free of charge at the link in bio.

June 6, 1944. D-Day.

Thousands of Allied soldiers climbed into landing craft, boarded transport planes, and crossed the English Channel knowing many would never return home. They went anyway—and changed the course of history.

D-Day was not inevitable. Success was not guaranteed. History was not made by dates and battle plans alone. The outcome rested on the courage, sacrifice, and determination of ordinary people asked to do extraordinary things.

Eighty-two years later, we still live in the shadow of what was accomplished that day. We still enjoy freedoms secured by a generation willing to risk everything for a cause greater than themselves—a debt we can never fully repay.

In Remember Us, I tell the stories of the soldiers, families, and Dutch citizens whose lives were forever changed by the events of World War II, including Lieutenant Colonel Robert Cole of the 101st Airborne Division, who parachuted into Normandy in the opening hours of D-Day.

On this D-Day anniversary, I invite you to reflect on the bravery and selflessness that made June 6, 1944, one of the most consequential days in modern history.

For those who would like to learn more, I am making the “D-Day” chapter from Remember Us available to read free of charge at the link in bio.

“Full victory,” Eisenhower told the paratroopers, “and nothing else.”

On the evening of June 5, 1944, hours before young Allied soldiers climbed into landing craft, boarded transport planes, and crossed the English Channel into history, General Eisenhower paid a surprise visit to the men of the 101st Airborne—the Screaming Eagles.

He didn’t expect to recognize anyone. But then a familiar face stepped forward: Lieutenant Colonel Robert Cole, a young officer Ike had once known at Fort Lewis.

Cole was smeared with charcoal and vegetable oil. His pockets were packed with gear. In just hours, he and his men would parachute behind enemy lines—no backup, no escape.

And yet he smiled. Not for the camera. Not for show. A quiet smile, a wink, as if to say: Don’t worry, General. We got this.

Within hours, he would be heading into the night sky over England.

Tomorrow would be D-Day.

“Full victory,” Eisenhower told the paratroopers, “and nothing else.”

On the evening of June 5, 1944, hours before young Allied soldiers climbed into landing craft, boarded transport planes, and crossed the English Channel into history, General Eisenhower paid a surprise visit to the men of the 101st Airborne—the Screaming Eagles.

He didn’t expect to recognize anyone. But then a familiar face stepped forward: Lieutenant Colonel Robert Cole, a young officer Ike had once known at Fort Lewis.

Cole was smeared with charcoal and vegetable oil. His pockets were packed with gear. In just hours, he and his men would parachute behind enemy lines—no backup, no escape.

And yet he smiled. Not for the camera. Not for show. A quiet smile, a wink, as if to say: Don’t worry, General. We got this.

Within hours, he would be heading into the night sky over England.

Tomorrow would be D-Day.

I am still thinking about Memorial Day weekend in Margraten, and especially about Private First Class Harry Humason and Private First Class Arnold Strauch, two World War II veterans I had the honor of meeting.

There is something profoundly humbling about meeting those who carried the weight of that generation, and then standing together in a place dedicated to remembering so many who never came home. Margraten has a way of making the past feel very present.

I am grateful for the chance to share a moment with these two heroes in a place where their generation will never be forgotten—moments like these remind us why remembrance matters, and why it must continue.

I am still thinking about Memorial Day weekend in Margraten, and especially about Private First Class Harry Humason and Private First Class Arnold Strauch, two World War II veterans I had the honor of meeting.

There is something profoundly humbling about meeting those who carried the weight of that generation, and then standing together in a place dedicated to remembering so many who never came home. Margraten has a way of making the past feel very present.

I am grateful for the chance to share a moment with these two heroes in a place where their generation will never be forgotten—moments like these remind us why remembrance matters, and why it must continue.

As we pause today to remember the men and women who gave their lives in service to our country, I’m reminded that some promises endure far beyond a lifetime.

Across the Netherlands, generations of families continue honoring Americans they never met — visiting graves, sharing stories, placing flowers, and remembering lives given in the cause of freedom.

Memorial Day is an act of gratitude, and for more than 80 years, the Dutch have shown the world what enduring gratitude looks like.

#MemorialDay

As we pause today to remember the men and women who gave their lives in service to our country, I’m reminded that some promises endure far beyond a lifetime.

Across the Netherlands, generations of families continue honoring Americans they never met — visiting graves, sharing stories, placing flowers, and remembering lives given in the cause of freedom.

Memorial Day is an act of gratitude, and for more than 80 years, the Dutch have shown the world what enduring gratitude looks like.

#MemorialDay

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