Water crashes gently off the shores of the surrounding cliffs, then rolls casually back out towards the horizon. As the sun shines warmly overhead, the ocean breeze gently blows over the local vegetation while drying the unexpected tears I find falling from my eyes. Had this been any other location, it would have made for the classic picturesque postcard. However, despite its unmistakable beauty, it’s hard to consider any place formally known as “Suicide Cliff” … The place where many of my ancestors perished, as anything other than a place of resilience and strength.