The Aeneid has never been my favorite epic: I prefer my heroes more flawed and fierce, but a new reading has illuminated something flawed in me. I see myself and my fellow classical educators in the defeated Trojans, cast from a burning city, longing to return. Lonely, we feel exiled from a world that is rumored to have once delighted in truth for its own sake. We identify ourselves as keepers of the flame of memory in the wasteland. Like Aeneas, with his household gods, we shield the rich relics of the past from those who want to burn them to ashes. Yet what do we do with the cultural memory we carry? Two characters from the Aeneid embody divergent reactions to the ancient dilemma: Aeneas, duty-bound to build a kingdom, and Andromache, erecting a citadel for ghosts.