These are snapshots from a morning walk in the Molenbeek cemetary from last June. It is rather humbling to see photographs of deceased persons, particularly on a grave stone and from one hundred years back. They always make me wonder who they were in their living life, what their dreams were made of, or did they get the chance to laugh and share feelings of belonging, together with their fellow human beings? For many of them the World Wars cut in when they were still young, and then this. Is someone still remembering them now, what would they say?