Finding Family in Saint Amand

Post written by Carol Beatty

Wednesday was an incredibly full and moving day. I honestly think that the people who welcomed us to St. Amand could not have been kinder or more generous to us. They embraced my mother, my daughter, my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and me as if we were family. Within an hour of arriving, I understood that in a very special way we are family for them, for the people of St. Amand clearly adopted Bud as their own the day he died as their town was being liberated from four long years of the pain and hardship of occupation.

At Bud’s memorial we met the two women who, as girls, on September 2, 1944 emerged from their cellars where they had taken refuge from the fighting on the streets to find Bud’s body on a stretcher at the foot of Le Pont Moulin Blanc. He had been moved there while his fellow soldiers continued to secure the town. At the foot of the bridge where Bud died, one of those girls, Madame Beal, told us about finding him, about her mother closing his eyes, and about the townspeople bringing him to the tiny street chapel just across the way where he was laid out, prayed for, and watched over until the next day. And she and another gentleman handed us photographs of Bud on the stretcher surrounded with flowers, photographs that the family never even knew existed.

The street chapel where Bud was brought.

My range of emotions in those moments was wide. Grief at the loss of this beautiful young man and for the family that was never the same. Deep peace and relief in knowing that Bud was not alone in his last moments and that he was cared for with love and kindness. Profound appreciation for the people of St. Amand. A lovely warmth in feeling the clarity of genuine human goodness evident in Bud’s story.

Perhaps most intense was my awe and gratitude that these people, literally in the first moments of their own liberation from four terrible years of occupation, had the wherewithal and conviction to tend to this young American soldier whom they never met in life. And the town has never let Bud go; he is the symbol of their liberation.

Later Wednesday afternoon when we said good-bye to Madame Beal, she took my mother’s hand and said, “you are my sister.” Our family expanded on Wednesday in ways that I never could have imagined and that I will always cherish.

Mom with Madame Martin and Madame Beal at the memorial.

Mom and Madame Beal.

French media coverage of our trip to Saint Amand

French TV coverage- August 27, 2015. France TV Pluzz.

French Newspaper- August 27, 2015. La Voix Du Nord.

French Newspaper- August 25, 2015. La Voix Du Nord.

A translation of the Aug 25 newspaper article: Carol-Beatty-translation-Thursdaypdf(1)

To know then what we know now…

Out of respect for my family- I want you to know that in this post you will find a photo that the people of St Amand took of Bud while they honored him after he died.

I am completely overwhelmed by trying to begin the story of our experience in St Amand-les-Eaux yesterday. As my grandmother said multiple times, “we are just so blessed.” The town welcomed us with open arms with a ceremony at Bud’s memorial and an opportunity to meet Madame Beal who had vivid memories of Bud’s “ginger hair” and whose mother closed his eyes. This was all followed by a classic French lunch with the Mayor, Madame Beal and her daughter, reporters, local town officials and historians and lastly a tour of the absolutely beautiful town.

This was simply the most amazing experience of my entire life. It was not only having a sense of closure for my family who was so torn apart when Bud died- but also to be so completely privileged  to be there with my grandmother and see her have such an immense sense of closure and be so deeply honored by this town. This was truly a once in a lifetime experience.

My great uncle Bud was shot by a sniper crossing the bridge, Le Pont Moulin Blanc on September 2nd, 1944 on the day that Saint Amand-les-Eaux was liberated from the Nazi’s. He was killed instantly. We learned that while the American forces continued on to fight off the Nazi tanks the people of St Amand carried Bud’s body to the village and laid him to rest for one night in a nearby chapel. They draped him in flowers and prayed for him. So many soldiers are killed and left behind, what spirit and deep love the people of St Amand have to show such respect for my uncle Bud. Until yesterday we thought that Bud was killed on September 3rd, 1944.

At the ceremony, Madame Beal presented us with photos of Bud shortly after he died. He was so distinguishable and handsome- and it was both heartbreaking and comforting to see his image draped in flowers from 71 years ago. For me- it was even more emotional to see my grandmother’s reaction to the photos. The whole family broke out in both tears of regret for his lost life and deep thanks for the love the people of St Amand gave to him. Perhaps the hardest emotion to describe is how I wish that my great grandparents and all of my great aunts and great uncle could’ve been with us to truly know how cherished Bud was and how he did not die in vain. The first words my grandmother said when we got to the memorial was how she wished her parent’s would’ve known how cherished Bud was and is by the town of St Amand.

Malcolm “Bud” Kennedy, September 2nd, 1944

The memorial is just across the street from where they first laid his body before taking him to the chapel and just down the road from the bridge where he was shot. We met the artist who designed the stone, he did such a beautiful job as it reflects the classic French town in its stone surface.

In the center of St Amand is a very distinguishable tower of perhaps one of the most beautiful Abbeys I have ever seen (dating back to 600 A.D.). It literally towers over the town and you can see it a mile away. At the end of the day I ran to the bridge where Bud was killed to take photos for the family. I entered from where Bud would’ve been walking- entering the village and facing the tower. I only hope that one of Bud’s last images was perhaps the view of the most beautiful structure I have ever witnessed- and that perhaps I saw the tower as he might’ve seen it in 1944 as he crossed the bridge and took his last breath.

Le Pont Moulin Blanc

The bridge where Bud was killed

A gift we made for the town of Saint-Amand-les-Eaux

Reflections from my grandmother the night before we go to Bud’s memorial.

So many firsts- my first flight on an enormous airbus 330 (with all of the bells and whistles of an enormous plane), arriving in Brussels airport with hundreds of cultures and languages coming from all directions- so different from American airports. Cindy, Mark and Ian’s warm welcome combined with visits to a castle, a beautiful park and an introduction to Belgian architecture in surrounding towns. And I confess to feeling a bit overwhelmed. I really was prepared to see amazing sights and am doing just that. Today we went to the Antwerp Cathedral and explored the city.

Tomorrow is the memorial service for Bud at Saint-Amand-les-Eaux. I know it will be beautiful and emotional. I get teary now just thinking about it.

-Jody Axelson

At this point my Grandmother was interrupted by the news that an article about the memorial service had already been published in France. Through rough translation my mother and Aunt Cindy were able to decipher that two women will be joining us tomorrow who were there the day Bud died. One was fifteen and the other just twelve- only a few years older than my grandmother. Both have vivid memories of Bud and his bright red hair. They speak of their struggle of finding relief and joy the day their town was freed from the Nazi’s and the pain of seeing this young soldier who was killed in the process. One of the women speaks of her memory of her mama closing Bud’s eyes on the stretcher.They will be joining us tomorrow- and my grandmother will have the opportunity to meet them.

I’d write more- but just about everyone in the family can’t talk about it without tearing up. This is so beyond our wildest dreams.

In the words of Grammi Jody,

“it is just so wonderful to know that Bud wasn’t alone when he died.”

A photo of my grandmother (9), her older sister Marty(16) and Uncle Bud(20).

May 1944

*Here is the Article I wrote of– in French. We hope to get a translation soon.

We made it!

Well, after a full day of travel, almost no sleep and lots of bag lugging and wheelchair pushing- we made it to Belgium!

We are staying with my Aunt Cindy, Uncle Mark and cousin Ian in their home in Zwijndrecht, just outside of Antwerp. My paternal grandmother, “Grammi Jane” is returning to visit the family for the first time in five years- and after breaking her hip outside of a cathedral in Belgium five years ago; she had said she would never return again. This time (with a lot more caution and extra support) she has traveled back across the Atlantic Ocean to see her daughter, son in law and seven year old grandson. And this is the very first time my maternal grandmother, “Grammi Jody” has ever been to Europe!

Our first day here the jet-lag was overwhelming- but my aunt and uncle did everything in their power to keep us pre-occupied and awake as long as possible so that our adjustment to the 6 hour time difference would be a little less harsh. Yesterday we visited castles in their local area and today ran errands in preparation for our big trip to Saint-Amand-les-Eaux, France on Wednesday.

My Aunt, who is a librarian and historian here in Belgium, has been helping us to research the historical context of what happened to Bud 70+ years ago. Several weeks back she contacted the town officials of Saint Amand to let them know that the family of Malcolm Kennedy was coming to visit the memorial and that we would love to learn more about what happened the day he died and why he specifically had been honored. Just before we left for Europe Cindy received a response from the Deputy Mayor of Saint-Amand-les-Eaux informing us that the town will welcome the family of Malcolm Kennedy with a procession and special event for the visit. We don’t know exactly what to expect- but we have been informed to dress formally (by my Aunt Cindy) and that the local press will be covering the event. Luckily for us- they are providing interpreters so that we don’t have to rely on our very rusty French to communicate with the locals.

This is above and beyond what we were expecting! When we booked the trip several months back we were “hoping” that we would be able to find someone in the town who had the history of Bud’s memorial. We were anticipating bringing flowers to the memorial and perhaps trying to track down a local historical society for more information. By no means were we ever anticipating this adventure!