Today is F. Scott Fitzgerald’s birthday. I made a little pilgrimage to his grave.
Scott and Zelda are buried in the graveyard next to St. Mary’s Church, in Rockville, Maryland. Ignoring the usually sound advice of Michael Stipe, I took the train back to Rockville, and made the five-minute walk from the Metro station to the cemetery.
I wasn’t the only one making a birthday visit. There were notes and a few flowers at the grave site. In the past, visitors have left hip flasks and half-empty wine bottles. Someone once left a bouquet of daisies.
The slab on top of the grave quotes the famous last sentence of The Great Gatsby: