Cimetière du Père-Lachaise

I took a walk in Paris’s largest cemetery in a fitting downpour. Much like Paris itself, it’s a sprawling network of white houses and small alleyways. The cemetery is still in use today and the placement is seemingly random across time and space, with the “greats” seated nexted to us common folk.

Death never seems to fully leave the eye of Parisian culture. A city seeped in blood, from the monuments and artwork that I have seen the violence of the past is never hidden.

Many of the mausoleums have decayed with the families they house.

Some are cherished for eternity.

Others lost to time.

Giants among men and leaves amongst stone.

This one caught my eye because the fierce, judgmental bust. Kaminksy was an Ashkenazi jew during the Nazi occupation of France. After his mother was killed by the Nazis, he joined the French Resistance at the age of 17. He specialized in forging documents and saved the lives of 14,000 jews. He often said “Stay awake. As long as possible. Struggle against sleep. The calculation is easy. In one hour, I make 30 false papers. If I sleep one hour, 30 people will die.” After the war, he continued to help liberation fronts across the world.

Some interesting ones