I met up with my buddy Matt in Southern Illinois for our third annual camping trip the weekend before Labor Day. I’d picked the far south location because of its proximity to Cairo, Illinois–a once-gilded city I thought based on YouTube videos had become a ghost town.

I was wrong.

Cairo is alive and kicking. (Well done, Cairo.) Though it wasn’t hard to see it had seen better days.

The showstopper of the trip was a place called Garden of the Gods, part of the Shawnee National Forest. The views we encountered overlooking this ancient ocean were some of the most stunning I’ve ever seen.

One of my favorite parts of these camping adventures is the road trip. Seeing all the little rural towns–not too unlike the one I grew up in–is always fascinating to me. And I wonder when was the town founded? Why was it founded there? What do the people there do for work or fun or anything?

I’ve noticed a few World War II monuments in towns I’ve passed on my journeys. They always fill me with a mixture of great sadness and great pride–particularly because the people of the town never wanted the names of their fallen sons or daughters to be forgotten. Money was raised, craftsmen were selected, and workers were hired. In a world of disposable everything, I’m always humbled by these acts of love and respect; these forgotten monuments that pepper the heartland.

While driving from the Garden of the Gods to check out Cairo, one of these monuments caught my eye as we rounded a curve in the road. We pulled over to check it out. It was a military cemetery. A gorgeous one.

We had stumbled upon Mound City National Cemetary. According to the plaque at the office, the authority to create military burial grounds came in the Omnibus Act of July 17, 1862. It directed the president (Abraham Lincoln, at the time) to purchase land to be used as “a national cemetery for the soldiers who shall die in the service of the country.” Fourteen national cemeteries were established by 1862.

I think when I retire, I’d like to travel the country, visiting these towns and writing their stories. I think it would be incredibly enlightening. And it would remind me–and anyone who read them–that we’re more alike than different and that we’re only here for a short time. So many people’s lives begin and end outside of the spotlight celebrity and social media. I believe those are where the truly interesting stories lie.