It was cold and rainy for the few days we were in Paris this week. It was the sort of weather that makes you want to stay in, even though you don’t want to miss a minute. The day before we left the weather broke. The sun came out, temperatures rose to comfortable limits, and a long walk was just the thing I needed.
If you come up to the Pantheon from the river, it’s quite a hill to climb, edging the University of Paris, then rounding the corner. I always gasp a little when I see it in its classical glory. And while the main floor is lovely, I was on a mission.
It’s easy to get lost down in the crypts and even harder to find a specific location if you’re looking for a notable. Rousseau is easy to find with his hand reaching out of his tomb to offer a visitor flowers. Across the central axis, down a hallway, and to crypt XXIV — Hugo, Dumas, Zola.
The sarcophagi are simple, unadorned stone affairs, with only the corners turned up and the names on the front. Victor Hugo, Alexander Dumas, and Emile Zola lay only steps from each other, sharing a small room for eternity. Dumas rests below a small window. I neglected a pencil so a tomb rubbing will have to wait until next time. Still, just standing there, honoring them as France has, made me supremely grateful.
These were men who wrote to express their views, tell stories, sell political ideas (often through story telling.) Having long loved Dumas, and having spent a large part of the year with Victor Hugo’s works, I was moved. And so grateful for the freedom they had for their ideas.
The message? Write, express yourself, think, share. We must keep the sharing of ideas and stories and new thoughts alive. We must honor these great writers by continuing to challenge readers. And we must keep writing. For as long as all can.
Connecting. Creating. 
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