I was 18. At 18, I’d seen more of the world than most people see in a lifetime. I had visited a large portion of Europe, Asia, the South Pacific and even some parts of North America most Americans don’t even know exist, like Iqualuit in the Northwest Territories of Canada. But nothing could prepare me for my visit to Normandy. I was traveling with the Long Island Youth Orchestra. The orchestra is 85 students touring the world as a classical ensemble for five weeks each summer. We performed for all types of occasions, from performances for royalty and diplomats to charity concerts. I toured for five summers. Growing up, it was the time of my life. I have memories — both as a musician and a tourist — to last a lifetime. The visit to Normandy is one such memory. Traveling with 85 students, with an average age of 17, people were always laughing, having a good time and getting into trouble, like any good teenager. We made many sightseeing trips in between concerts. When our two coach buses dropped us at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial, located above Omaha Beach, the demeanor of the group instantly changed to a solemn attitude. This was the same beach where world leaders commemorated the 65th anniversary of D Day last week. People around the world remembered the spot where the Allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy, resulting in approximately 10,000 deaths in a single day. We had the opportunity to walk around the cemetery, which is a mesmerizing vision of uniform white graves with white crosses and the occasional Star of David. The air held mixed emotions — an eerie aura in a peaceful environment. The memorial grounds were beautifully preserved. The vision in my memory still gives me chills today and brings a tear to my eye. Many of those buried were about my age at the time and gave their life for people they never met. This thought had entered my mind before, when I was studying WWII in school, but it didn’t hold any reality until that very moment. Many of us, including myself, had family that had participated in D Day. Some had relatives who never made it home from that very beach. Those members of the group simply stopped in their tracks and broke down in tears. My grandfather, fortunately, made it back to Long Island to tell his story, but many brave men did not make it home to their loved ones. When I see footage from D Day, I have a hard time visualizing that was the same place I stood many years after the invasion. Many thoughts and memories were hard for me to grasp as an 18-year-old standing on those beaches. I still have a hard time understanding some of the memories, but they will remain with me for a lifetime. I hope the generations ahead of us and after us will continue to remember the memories as well. -Alex Young, vice president and associate publisher