"The baby's name was Goldin. He was six days old, and he shows up under "names of the kild" in the register for the Rose Hill cemetery. The register listed no cause of death. The infant was buried at Rose Hill in 1848, a loss to coincide with the birth of a new city. The Goldin child has no monument. His bones lie beneath what is now a grassy park at Rose Hill, a North Side slope worn down by children's feet and bicycles. Yet the baby remains a symbol of what Syracuse gave up to get this far." (The Post-Standard of Syracuse, July 29, 1998, Sean Kirst, columnist)
"The baby's name was Goldin. He was six days old, and he shows up under "names of the kild" in the register for the Rose Hill cemetery. The register listed no cause of death. The infant was buried at Rose Hill in 1848, a loss to coincide with the birth of a new city. The Goldin child has no monument. His bones lie beneath what is now a grassy park at Rose Hill, a North Side slope worn down by children's feet and bicycles. Yet the baby remains a symbol of what Syracuse gave up to get this far." (The Post-Standard of Syracuse, July 29, 1998, Sean Kirst, columnist)
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