Seven Sons

So I’m in Clarksville, Tennessee a town that services Ft. Campbell, KY.
We’re staying just off of I-24 at an Interstate island featuring a
strip of strip malls and big box stores, 10-15 fast food franchises
and adult book stores, mammoth, ever-glowing 50 telescoping signs for
McDonalds, Shell, Applebees and about 40 other places.

I walked from the hotel over to a nearby Target after dinner.  On my
left, very easy to miss, is a fenced-in, civil war graveyard founded
sometime around 1855.  It is sandwiched between the Marriott
Courtyard, the Days Inn, the Homewood Suites and some other chain
dump, bathed in the light of all that is the meeting of I-24 and US
79.

I simply can’t imagine a worse place to lay for eternity.  Thanks for
your sacrifice, young Tennesseeans.  In return, won’t you please
accept this garishly-lit eternal resting place along a six lane
boulevard lined with grease pits, gas stations and porn shops?
Thanks.  Hopefully not too many Big Gulp cups fall upon you.