The Marble Statues of Florence

Every year in Florence, Italy, about 15,000 American students will pour into the city to spend a semester or two abroad, “studying” art, the culture, the history and architecture of the region. They will explore the Uffizi, ponder Venus on a shell, circle the towering form of David, and gaze in wonderment at what an artist can do with chisel and stone and infinite vision.

 They will walk along the rusticated walls of the Medici palace, stroll the narrow cobblestoned corridors, and eat gelato. They will wander through vineyards, sample fine wines the American way . . . one huge glass at a time. They will party at discos and find romance between the marble columns, and on bridges spanning the Arno. They will take day trips to Siena, Cinque Terre, Montepulciano, the rolling hills of Tuscany, and pad their Instagram pages and snapchats with pouty-lip photos next to naked Roman sculptures.

 And they will drive right past seventy acres of hallowed ground just seven miles south of the city where 4,000 young Americans lie quietly buried in rows of crosses and stars of David, a blip in a Rick Steves’ Guide Book.  

 They don’t get many visitors, I’m told.

 Members of the Fifth Army are buried here. They died during the capture of Rome in June of ’44 or fell in the battles of the Apennines in May of ’45. Three Medal of Honor winners are interned on this beautifully manicured hillside—a testimony to the “costly sacrifices on the altar of freedom,” as Lincoln once said. Young men and women that should have been strolling the halls of the Uffizi, pondering Venus, drinking wine the American way . . . one huge glass at a time, and finding romance on the bridges spanning the Arno.

 It’s time for college tours to highlight THESE monuments, THESE statues, this plot of land, a place where mothers and brothers and sisters can rarely tread. For as Lincoln would also say, “It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.” 

 The gelato, will be there, the wine, the romance, the discos, David and Venus. Our students . . . our children will learn more in one hour of wandering the rows of these perfectly aligned polished crosses, and six-pointed stars than any class or lecture in their studies-abroad syllabus.

 Take a bottle of wine and venture seven miles south—young scholars, young seekers of culture and art—visit them, honor their sacrifice by walking with reverence and an appreciation of the freedoms you have been given.

Because if you had been born sixty years earlier, they would have been you.

Dr. Louis M. Profeta is an emergency physician practicing in Indianapolis and a member of the Indianapolis Forensic Services Board. He is a national award-winning writer, public speaker and one of LinkedIn's Top Voices and the author of the critically acclaimed book, The Patient in Room Nine Says He's God. Feedback at [email protected] is welcomed. For other publications and for speaking dates go to louisprofeta.com. For college speaking inquiries contact [email protected]