The Cemetery Traveler - by Ed Snyder

Frigid Cemetery Photography

2026-02-28T08:29:00.000-08:00

Sitting here typing away on a Saturday morning, waiting for tomorrow’s expected blizzard. I’m between catastrophes, so I have some time to gather my thoughts. These past three weeks of frigid temperatures have taken their toll on my friends and neighbors, who suffered burst pipes, floods, and fires. Over the years, I’ve had my turn in the barrel so I feel fortunate that my biggest challenge right now is where to park my car tonight so that it will be easy to dig out tomorrow. Might need to hit a cemetery in the snow.

The fluffy stuff has slowly begun to melt. I am looking forward to wearing regular shoes. Its been so damned cold with the snow and ice that took weeks to go away, I’d had to wear boots everywhere. Including last weekend’s trip to a couple of cemeteries.

1855 Gatehouse, Mount Moriah Cemetery, Philadelphia

The previous Saturday morning was spent at the volunteers meeting in Philadelphia’s Mount Moriah Cemetery – two hours of meeting time with my toes frozen in the old office building. This ended with a rousing demonstration by a falconer with her owl and hawk - indoors! I often tell people that I do not have normal friends. Normal bores the daylights out of me (to paraphrase the Stones). Prior to that, I killed a bit of time in Lansdowne, PA’s Fernwood Cemetery, a couple miles up the road. I did some frigid photography there.

Stark, raving cold.

In Fernwood, it was 14 degrees with a 45 mph wind. Who knew what the wind chill was (-13 degrees, I think). I figured shooting would be limited as I wasn’t going to be jumping out of the car much. In an ice-covered cemetery, its difficult to compose your masterpiece while you’re trying hard not to fall on your ass. So, a zoom lens and a camera out the car window was my plan. Being out there at the mercy of nature is terrifying but cathartic.

It was colder than Christmas. Roads were plowed throughout the property, which was quite a feat, actually. If you had not plowed and shoveled the day those nine inches of snow fell weeks ago on January 25th (2026), there was no way to do that a day hence. The sleet and ice that followed solidified the concretion so that nothing could penetrate. Roads and sidewalks everywhere in the Philadelphia area were treacherous for the next three weeks. So why not attempt to navigate some cemetery ice fields?

Far from spring, plastic flowers punctuate the ice fields

As much as I’d like to disagree with Joan Didion when she says that happiness is a consumption ethic, I would not be driving around in an ice-covered cemetery in frigid weather if the built landscape was not there. These monuments are a very obvious form of consumerism, and maybe because of that I find this landscape much more interesting than a field of flowers or a sunset on the bay. To paraphrase the Stones again, let’s do some living after they’ve died.

Looks like one of those old Victorian etchings of a cemetery, right?

However, when you can’t open the car door due to the insane wind gusting across the permafrost, you begin to question your life choices. Torrents of powdery snow in the low contrast landscape seemed like a fast-moving fog monster. BUT, you can always power-wind the windows down to shoot, right? Except – the passenger window stuck about four inches down! I could hear the winding motor straining inside the door. Cold! Snow blowing inside! Fumbled quickly with the electric window lock switch, thinking that I had hit that by accident! But no, the window seemed stuck. I hit the rocker switch both up and down, back and forth, but the window just fidgeted. Like an idiot, I hit the driver’s side window switch to see if that would go down. I was torn between getting the windows open in order to shoot some photos, and having them stuck open.

Silhouette snowscape, Fernwood Cemetery

Fear Factor Fernwood: Now the driver’s side window is also stuck open about four inches and I’m getting pelted with snow! I’m in a sound bath of a howling gale! Prayed to all the known gods - you know, those gods you pray to when you realize in the morning that you left your wallet on the seat of your car overnight?

I put the RAV in gear and quickly drove down the hill toward the community mausoleum, thinking the building would break the wind. I wonder if Andrew Wyeth ever experienced this sort of thing when he would drive to a snowy location in his vehicle, break out his paints, and create a painting on a canvas propped on his dashboard? According to his granddaughter, Victoria Wyeth, her grandfather loved the snow and would have driven right out to capture the beauty of the world after a storm. Absently, I hit the window rocker switches and both windows motored up and closed. Thanks Andy.

Deep sea diver in the snow, Fernwood Cemetery, Lansdowne, PA

I ended up with some images from Fernwood that I really like, some of which you see here. The color images seem less cold than the black and whites, but they do make you feel all the feels, right? I drove around a bit more but didn’t risk getting out or rolling down the windows. This final image was shot through my windshield as a sort of frozen fog enveloped my vehicle like some past-life regression. I finished typing this up on a Saturday, and then Sunday night into Monday, our area has another snowstorm planned. Guess where I’m going Monday after work? So many cemeteries, so little time.

Philadelphia Cemeteries that Mark Our Nation’s 250th Birthday – Part 1

2026-02-16T09:03:00.000-08:00

Did you know that there are about twenty cemeteries in the center city Philadelphia area that were actually in existence in 1776? As we celebrate our nation’s birth this year – 2026 – we’ll have a look at some historical landmarks that are actually land. Land, that is, that still holds the remains of the people who were alive when the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4, 1776!

Betsy Ross' grave, Mount Moriah Cemetery

My goal is to write a short series of posts over the spring of 2026 so you can virtually visit many of these Colonial-era burial grounds with me. This initial post will serve as an introduction to more in-depth posts that will follow. I plan to discuss in detail many of these cemeteries, their history, their occupants, and their importance to the history of Philadelphia and America as a nation. We’ll also cover certain Philadelphia “landmarks” that are fake. Or perhaps I should call them reasonable facsimiles. Unlike the Betsy Ross House and the building where Jefferson authored the Declaration of Independence, these cemeteries are the real deal. These are the actual grounds that our forefathers walked on and are buried in. True history, zero fabrication. By the way, not only is the “Betsy Ross House” not Betsy Ross’ house, but she is also not buried there! (She’s buried at Mount Moriah Cemetery in southwest Philadelphia.)

Betsy Ross stone marker at the Betsy Ross House, Philadelphia

In January, 2026, I presented this material in a virtual lecture hosted by the Preservation Alliance of Greater Philadelphia. Thank you to everyone who attended and participated in the spirited Q&A session afterward! If anyone has comments or questions related to the post you’re reading now, please comment at the end, or you can reach me at Ed.Stoneangels@gmail.com.

Betsy Ross House, 239 Arch Street

The photo you see at the beginning of this article shows Washington Square, at Seventh and Walnut Streets. From 1704 to 1794, the square served as a Potters Field, a burial ground for people not associated with a church or other private organization. Thousands are buried beneath its fountain, monuments, and well-manicured lawns. Yellow fever victims, criminals, and strangers who died passing through town were buried here. It also served as a mass grave for Washington’s soldiers who died fighting the British prior to the British occupation of Philadelphia in 1777. (Read more here.)

The Potters Field that is Washington Square Park, Seventh and Walnut Streets

But lets go back a bit further in time. Our American ancestors buried their dead in the ground because this was the European tradition brought to America by our forefathers, mainly immigrants from Europe. This is one reason why we don’t have more sky burials of burn our dead on funeral pyres in the town square, as other cultures do. In-ground burial in America remains popular hundreds of years later.

Original 1761 Old St. Paul's Church building and graveyard (Third and Walnut Streets.)

The population of Philadelphia grew from 2,000 in 1700 to 30,000 by 1776. As the city grew, more and more burial grounds were needed. In 1776, the city itself was comprised of only 1200 acres! The entire city was bordered on the north by Spring Garden Street, the South by Christian Street, the west by Eighth Street, and the east by the Delaware River (click to see map). Outside those borders were farms and woods. And pirates, of course, who used Petty’s Island (off the coast of Pennsauken, New Jersey) as an anchorage point – but that’s another story. It is estimated that within these 1200 acres, 120 cemeteries existed in 1776!

Of these 120, many were small, like family plots on private land. But some were large like the First Baptist Church of Philadelphia Burial Ground (est. 1707, currently buried under the pavement at 218 Arch Street) with an estimated 5,000 graves. Now, just because a graveyard is only the size of a city block, this does not mean it only accommodates a few hundred burials. Palmer Burial Ground in Fishtown, for instance, takes up the area of one city block. It was established around 1732 and holds an estimated 40,000 burials! And it is STILL an active cemetery! Many colonial-era cemeteries and graveyards in Philadelphia not only remain active, but remain current and contemporary, as can be seen from this sign on the front of Old Pine Street Presbyterian Church at Fourth and Pine Streets (est. 1764).

Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead died January 10, 2026.

Only about twenty of these original 120 city cemeteries can still be visited. The fact that any of them exist at all is a credit to their owners (typically churches and synagogues). Most of the 120 were either moved or built over as the city grew. For a map of where all these burial grounds are located, I direct you to the website of the Philadelphia Archaeological Forum, and their interactive map of historic burial grounds. https://www.phillyarchaeology.net/historic-philadelphia-burial-places-map/

Not only can you see all the sites, but also the name of the burial ground, when and if it was moved, as well as where the graves were moved to – if they were moved at all. As I say, some graveyards, like the Bethel Burial Ground at 400 Catherine Street (in Queen Village), still lie undisturbed beneath our streets, playgrounds, and parking lots. Five thousand very quiet neighbors reside beneath Weccacoe Playground’s tennis court and community center (red building in the background in photo below).

Weccacoe Playground at 400 Catherine Street

Here's an interesting exercise - look for your residence (or workplace) in center city Philadelphia on the PAF interactive map and see if there is a burial ground beneath that location. You may even consider looking up your friends’ and neighbors’ homes to see if they might be living over a graveyard – always a fascinating topic for discussion.

So as we go forward, and visit specific cemeteries, here are a few topics I will cover:

· Cemeteries as landmarks
· Significance of historic cemeteries
· Growth of the city and need for cemeteries
· Significance of gravemarkers (tangible reminders)
· Cemetries that disappeared
· Preservation - How cemeteries stay in business

Christ Church Burial Ground, Fifth and Arch Streets

So when friends and relatives come to Philadelphia this year to celebrate our nation’s 250^th birthday, the United States' Semiquincentennial, consider a walking tour of its Colonial-era cemeteries and graveyards! (By the way, a graveyard is technically a burial ground associated with a church, while a cemetery is a secular, or non-religious burial ground.) Join me next time for Part 2 of Philadelphia Cemeteries that Mark Our Nation’s 250th Birthday!

The Zen of the Snow-Covered Cemetery

2026-02-08T14:05:00.000-08:00

The snowstorm began on Sunday, January 25, and got more intense as the day progressed. By noon, it was relentless. The Philadelphia area expected about six inches of snow, but it soon turned to sleet and became untenable. If you were driving in a cemetery – like me – you were hard-pressed to stay on the recently plowed roads. I found myself driving on the lawn in the blinding snow at one point. Kind of reminded me of the time near Snowmass, Colorado, when my friend Mike was driving us through a snowstorm in his Subaru. The car was creeping slowly forward, but we could see nothing through the windshield. I rolled down the passenger window to get a less foggy view, and right next to us were tall hedges! “Um, Mike? I think we’re in someone’s yard….”

Gates open, roads plowed ...

So why would I be driving around a cemetery in a snowstorm? The question is, why would you NOT be driving around a cemetery in a snowstorm? Unique experience! With the snow-covered monuments and statues, it is like immersing yourself in a dynamic art installation! The zen of a snow-covered cemetery is difficult to put into words. There is a state of attentiveness that happens clearly in such an environment in such a situation. As Brad Warner says in his book, Hardcore Zen, its not enlightenment, and "yet there is something, and even though this experience doesn't change anything at all, it changes everything."

I was there at 9:30 a.m., when the cemetery opened. This was hours before the radio started pleading with people to stay off the roads unless it’s an emergency. I knew it was going to snow the night before, so I planned on hitting Holy Cross Cemetery in Yeadon, PA (which borders Philadelphia where I live, on the west side). It is one of my go-to cemeteries because it has lots of low statues that get covered with snow. It is also relatively convenient for me to get there and I know that unlike Woodlands Cemetery in West Philly, Holy Cross plows its roads.

The snow was soft as it fell, and I made a few quick statue photographs but JESUS CHRIST was it cold (see above)! And windy! With chemical hand warmers in my gloves, hood up over my head, I kept the SUV running with the heater on full blast as I jumped out every few minutes to photograph something. To drive through a snow-covered cemetery is one of the reasons God gave us SUVs. God, however, cannot prevent you from locking yourself out of it in a snowstorm like I experienced about fifteen years ago. Always never do that.

I was careful not to slip in the snow (which was getting deeper) as I walked amidst the gravestones. The whiteout made it easier to spot the ceramic memorial photographs on the stones. I don’t think I’d ever seen this one before, even though I’d been in Holy Cross countless times. Might be a postmortem photo, not sure. Snow and bitter cold changes your perspective, as well as your tolerance for pain.

Postmortem image?

The trucks were re-plowing the roadways during the 90 minutes or so that I was there. Saw a small herd of deer running away from the plow truck at one point. The workers must have thought I was nuts. Or maybe they thought I was true to my art. Naw, they probably just thought I was nuts. When the snow started to fall more and more heavily, it was with less and less alacrity that I would stop and jump out to make a photograph. I only strung lights on a couple statues as it was just too cold to work the fine wires and switches on the battery packs. But like Christmas, its not over, ‘til its over, and you throw away the tree (from the Louden Wainwright song, Suddenly its Christmas). I finally resorted to just shooting out the window with a zoom lens.

Driving became virtually impossible. Defrosted snow turned to ice on my wiper blades, requiring a stop every few minutes with attempts to pull enough ice off the wipers so I could sort of see through the windshield. Then came the sleet. This storm, and driving a vehicle in it, just became a discordant experience. When I finally left the cemetery and got to the main roads, vehicles were stuck everywhere, on small inclines, at intersections. Again, it reminded me of Colorado. Once I was invited by a group of British friends to ski the Arapaho Basin with them. The mountain was higher and more remote than I was used to. It began to snow heavily as we began to descend from the top. My goggles fogged up and they left me for dead. Ah, good times.

So why would I put myself through this? If I lived in Colorado, this sort of storm would be a more quotidian event. However, Philadelphia rarely sees this heavy a snowfall. So, when such a gift is bestowed upon us, I view it as an impact opportunity not to be squandered. That said, getting stuck in a snowbank on the highway is not my jam. I did have to back down an on-ramp to Interstate 95 near the airport because a small clot of cars was blocking my progress. Seems the highway maintenance vehicles plowed the snow against the on and off ramps, blocking them. As Foghorn Leghorn says, “Some people ain’t got the sense God gave a bowling ball.”

By the next morning, the nine inches of snow was anointed with a layer of ice that only a flamethrower could penetrate. Temperatures had dropped to about eighteen degrees after the sleet storm Sunday afternoon. They dropped into the single digits over the next few days. I didn’t go back to Holy Cross Cemetery during the week because with the snow sleeted over, this concretion became nine inches of ice. My friend Linda, in my neighboring state of Delaware, calls this “snowcrete.” You take your life in your hands trying to climb through/over a crosswalk. It is relatively easy to do a James Brown split on the ice if you aren’t careful. Owwww! (screamed in a high-pitched James Brown-type vocal).

I did spend a few hours after work during the week driving through various cemeteries in the area, shooting bleached snowscapes and every once in a while, getting out of my vehicle to shoot something up close. The close shots were rare, because even though roads were plowed in some Philadelphia and south Jersey cemeteries, you could not actually walk on the ice fields. Too treacherous. Too real. Didn't want to get stuck in the snow like this hearse at Laurel Hill Cemetery!

Hearse in the snow, Laurel Hill Cemetery, Philadelphia

So back to zen, and the truth found in the frozen reality of a snow-filled cemetery. There is that, but I’m also a treasure hunter, I guess, looking for that once-in-a-lifetime photograph in a snow-covered graveyard - these sophisticated built environments we make to avoid the truth. Or at least tuck it away down a side street. Attempting to make an amazing photograph is not a hobby, or a job for me – its more like an addiction, as one of the characters said in reference to wildcat oil drilling in the television series Landman. While I wish I was good enough to capture a Red-Tailed hawk plucking one of the just-released doves out of mid-air at a funeral, I must be content with shooting gravestones in the snow. I rather like this one below, which I made in Fernwood Cemetery, in Lansdowne, PA. Kind of looks like and old Victorian lithograph, doesn't it?

While it is tempting to stay indoors where my furnace works, there is hot water to shower, and the ice box is filled with frozen burritos, I have been venturing out daily to photograph the ice in my local cemeteries. I plan to continue doing so until the city decides to remove the frozen snow, the weather gets warmer, and the rock salt barges are freed from the ice on the Delaware River (now that’s ironic).

A Cautionary New Year’s Tale Involving Cemeteries (the Non-ChatGPT Version!)

2026-01-02T06:16:00.000-08:00

Whether you’re spending New Years’ Day visiting a premature baby in an ICU or waiting for your mom to die in hospice, you can’t help but wonder what the new year will bring. You hope its good – or at least as good as it can get. Life can be like standing in a graveyard while its snowing – you’re surrounded by death, but then something may soften the idea. You feel that newfallen snow brings the idea of new life, a fresh start.

So instead of an all-night tears-of-the-moon rain tonight, snow is forecast. The group of cemetery photographers I had planned to hang with tomorrow backed out due to the expected snow and icy conditions. But that’s why God created the SUV, am I right? Back when I drove Saab convertibles, I would’ve found myself begging off as well. But seeing as I have an SUV, I will be out there tomorrow morning in the snow. Supposedly it will still be falling in the morning. This will make my inner child very happy.

I have a go-to cemetery for snow days, with lots of angel statues and other monuments, so hopefully I’ll have some images to post with this piece. Make hay while the sun shines, they used to say. Or as an eighty-year-old woman told me yesterday, “have fun and enjoy yourself while you’re in your sixties and seventies!” Weird, but true. She said all your kids have grown, they have their own lives, and you can just go out and have fun. While its true that most of our knowledge of the world is vicarious, I hoped to meet some of my own snow ghosts to haunt my dreams.

And haunt me they did. I always figured that if I didn’t believe in them, they wouldn’t try to get me. But that does not always work. For instance, I was raised Catholic, twelve years of good-versus-evil Bible squitter. Then a couple weeks ago, I started reading a book my friend George loaned me, by Randall Sullivan, called The Devil’s Best Trick (2024, Atlantic Monthly Press). The trick is that the devil has convinced us that he’s not real.

I began reading the book in bed. Read about twenty pages, and put it beside my pillow and went to sleep. What I read had not been scary. The book is comprised mainly of historical accounts, exorcisms, and the author’s experiences. I awoke from a really disturbing nightmare. Something dark was slowly flapping its wings as it sat on a sort of altar inside a sort of church. Really nothing more to it than that, other than the feeling of intense evil. I tried going back to sleep, but was too wired. I took the book from beside my pillow and threw it under my bed. I fell asleep just fine.

Maybe the snow tomorrow will white-out some of the evil surrounding us these days. At least until it melts and things resume looking shitty again. Slowly, the dirty soil bleeds into the white snow. But a lot of that is perception, right? When Victoria Wyeth gave a recent talk on how her grandfather Andy painted snow, she presented four categories, something like, flurries, footprints, melting snow, and dirty snow. The dirty snow intrigued me. She explained how the soil’s brown colors were drawn up and absorbed by the snow, changing its colors in subtle ways. It had gone far from being simply “dirty” snow – now it was snow tinged with raw or burnt umber. It really is all in your perception of things, right? So is dirty snow evil, filthy, or just tinged with brown pigment? It’s a perception thing – you need to choose.

Sometimes a misimpression or misunderstanding pays off. Charles Dickens’ misperception of, or rather misreading of, Ebeneezer Scroggie’s tombstone in Scotland’s Canongate Kirk graveyard lead him to believe that Scroggie was “a mean man” - it actually said, “meal man.” Scroggie, it seems, was a successful corn merchant. Dickens conjured up the famous skinflint character Ebeneezer Scrooge based on his idea of what he thought Scroggie was – a mean man. So Dickens’ mistake paid off, obviously. (Ref.)

What then will the new year bring? Misperceptions? Mistakes? Sure. Lean into them, learn from them. Certain experiences can create an artistic epiphany as sometimes happens with snow falling in a graveyard. Maybe you pivot your old way of thinking, like the “ah-ha” moment I had last week when I realized why metal water bottles are so popular. After dragging some women to the new Neil Diamond-themed movie, “Song Sung Blue,” I was about to apologize, thinking they’d found it boring. Then I realized they were drunk and didn’t care. Its been, what, twenty years since metal “water bottles” became a thing? It never occurred to me that anyone would fill them with anything but water. Well, Bob’s your uncle, as the Brits say. Same startling realization as when I found out that the song, "Over the Rainbow" from The Wizard of Oz is the most famous Jewish song ever. Didn't know that, hmm? Written by two Jewish immigrants about hope, the promised land, and exile.

So after all, it snowed a bit last night, but then turned to freezing rain. The snow was tentative, I realized that. I wasn’t treating the situation like it would be the last dinner on the Titanic. When I went to the cemetery this morning, it was not what I expected, or hoped for. (Really, what is?) Instead of standing inside a calm snow globe that someone had just shaken, I was greeted by icy roads and ice-covered monuments. I spent about two hours trying not to kill myself on the ice and made a few photos while I was at it (much to the amusement of the drivers of the two plow trucks parked on the property). As I grabbed onto the base of a monument to keep myself from falling, I wondered what other purpose these monuments served.

Why do monuments even exist? Sure, we all know they are meant to memorialize someone or something. In her article, “What monuments stand to teach Americans about themselves,” (Spectator, December 2025) Julia Friedman says that they show us “just how attached we are to grievance…reimagining defeat as victory.” A beautiful angel carved in granite indicates to us that even though the deceased person may have died, they succeeded in being borne aloft by angels to the heavens, and to their eternal reward. Success! Victory over death! Bullfeathers. Would we install a monument on the grave of the hiker who was killed by a mountain lion in Colorado on New Years' Day?

Fancy cemetery monuments and buildings with your name on them do not define your life – your actions do. Whether you feel like last year was a dumpster fire or the Second Coming, keep in mind what ChatGPT said in my last blog post: cemeteries remind anyone seeking fresh beginnings of an inconvenient truth: Time does not reset. It only continues—and it keeps excellent records.

So for the new year, maybe be more realistic? Be more artistic – add beauty to the world. As the great philosopher Frank Zappa said, the human mind is like a parachute – it works best when its open. Accept your mortality, and that of others. There are so many choices in life that sometimes it looks like a Chinese menu. Buy that dog for your kid. Accept that people lie to you. Accept that people are lying to you every day. In my previous ChatGPT-created post, I lied to you. Maybe do your children a favor and lie to them every once in a while (but point it out shortly afterwards). Explain it to them as a life lesson – people will lie to you, so don’t be like a heifer to the slaughter, as musician Brian Eno sings in “Baby’s on Fire.” Instead of memorializing oneself with an expensive monument, maybe focus on making the world a slightly better place. Otherwise, the new year will suck as badly as the old one. Remember the Devil’s best trick… that the Devil has convinced us that he’s not real.

I’ll leave you with the last verse of Eno’s “Baby’s On Fire.” Maybe it relates to your life, your job, your nation. Maybe in the new year, we should all show more respect for each other. I’m not expecting perfection, and neither should you. I’ll be happy with a six-seven year.

“But baby's on fire!
And all the instruments agree that
Her temperature's rising
But any idiot would know that”

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Read my previous post, which I authored with the use of ChatGPT,

"A Cautionary New Year’s Tale Involving Cemeteries:"

http://thecemeterytraveler.blogspot.com/2025/12/a-cautionary-new-years-tale-involving.html

A Cautionary New Year’s Tale Involving Cemeteries

2025-12-31T13:37:00.000-08:00

On the last night of the year, the town gathered where it always did: not in the square, not by the river, but at the old cemetery on the hill.

This was tradition, though no one could quite remember how it began. Lanterns were hung from iron hooks, their light trembling over dates and names. People brought thermoses of cider, paper hats, and a confidence that the year ahead could be bargained with if approached respectfully—preferably where time had already lost.

“Midnight sounds clearer up here,” someone always said.

What they meant was that silence sounded clearer.

Among the crowd was Jonah Pike, who had decided—after a year of broken promises, missed chances, and a calendar that felt more accusatory than helpful—that this New Year’s Eve would be different. He would confront the year properly. He would be honest. At five minutes to midnight, Jonah wandered away from the lanterns and found himself before a modest stone, its lettering softened by decades of weather. He did not know the name carved there, but the dates caught his attention. The life between them was shorter than Jonah expected.

“Sorry,” Jonah murmured, for reasons he couldn’t explain.

The wind moved through the trees, and with it came a peculiar sound—not a voice, exactly, but the sense of being corrected. You’re not sorry, the silence seemed to say. You’re impatient. Jonah laughed nervously. Cemeteries had a way of doing that to people: making thoughts sound like answers.

As the final seconds of the year were counted—ten, nine, eight—the ground felt unusually solid beneath his feet, as if it were listening too. At midnight, the bells rang from town below. Cheers erupted. Corks popped. Someone tripped over a headstone and swore, then laughed.

Jonah, however, felt something shift—not beneath him, but behind his eyes. The year ahead unspooled in quick, unasked-for images: postponed apologies, health ignored, hours squandered, love treated as renewable instead of fragile. Nothing dramatic. Nothing supernatural. Just ordinary regret, arriving early.

The cemetery, it seemed, did not traffic in ghosts. It dealt in inventory. Jonah understood then the unspoken rule of the hill: you didn’t come here to celebrate the future. You came to measure it—against what was already finished. He walked back to the lanterns quieter than before. When friends asked what he wished for, he surprised himself by answering honestly. “Less later,” he said. “More now.” They laughed, assuming it was a joke.

By morning, the cemetery was empty again, holding its names and dates with patient neutrality. It would be there next year, and the year after that, ready to remind anyone who came seeking fresh beginnings of an inconvenient truth: Time does not reset. It only continues—and it keeps excellent records.

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Hey, that was almost interesting, right? I typed the title into ChatGPT and this is the AI slop it spat out. The photos are actually mine. Please stay tuned for my original New Year's piece tomorrow! Same title, this time my original writing. No more jokes!

Good Grief - A Visit to Hartsdale Pet Cemetery

2025-12-21T05:43:00.000-08:00

Around Halloween, 2025, I visited Hartsdale Pet Cemetery, in Hartsdale, New York. This is near White Plains, north of NYC. Following directions on my phone GPS, I snaked my car off the highway into a residential neighborhood. Pulling up to the entrance of the cemetery, I was a bit underwhelmed. As the oldest operating pet cemetery in the world (est. 1896), this was a bit common-looking, sedate. It was not until an hour later as I hiked the grounds that I realized the grand and fancy entrance was on the North Central Avenue side of the cemetery, opposite of where I came in. That is technically the main entrance – I entered in the rear. (I know, that sounds like a bad joke about Planned Parenthood …)

The cemetery is hilly, and it is quite a workout to cover the property on foot (you actually have no choice, there are walkways and stairs everywhere, but no roads to drive on). Strange tripod-like contraptions cover the grounds supporting hoses for watering the grass. I guess what struck me most about the place was its deceptively small size. From the back entrance, you walk down a slope to the chapel. A man was inside who I later spoke with. A young woman was tending the grounds over near a house that seemed connected to the property. Maybe the owner lives there.

Hartsdale Pet Cemetery, Hartsdale, New York

Turns out that the cemetery is rather large (five acres), but the eighty thousand burials here occupy a smaller space than eighty thousand full-body human burials would. The 7,000 memorials range in size from a modest stone to a full-sized (human-sized) mausoleum (for four spaniels). The front of the property is fancier and more elaborate than the rear, as one might expect. Walking down the slope, taking in the individual graves, was preferable, in retrospect, to starting at the main entrance and climbing uphill. Of course, I ended up hiking up the hill afterward anyway to exit the property and get back to my car.

Many of the grave markers are adorned with ceramic photos of the deceased. What is it with people’s interest in animal grave photos? There certainly seem to be more pet photos on pet gravestones in pet cemeteries than there are ceramic photos of deceased humans on human gravestones in human cemeteries. Pet photos from gravestones garner so many likes on Instagram! Is it just because people generally enjoy posting and looking at pet photos in general on social media?

My friend @photosofcemeteries by the way, has found and posted some astoundingly interesting ceramic gravestone pet photos, and I am totally in awe of how many likes she gets! Every once in a while I will find an unusual ceramic photo, but usually they are fairly straightforward photos of the dog in question.

Pet cemeteries exist, and while they are certainly fewer in number than people cemeteries, they are also rather difficult to find. I’ve been to some that do not appear on internet-based maps. For instance, Pine Forest Pet Cemetery in Stafford, New Jersey. Nicely maintained, fairly large. See if you can find it on any map. Go ahead, I’ll wait …..

See? Maybe if you had a paper map showing all the sand roads in the Jersey Pine Barrens, you might find it.

Monument to War Dogs of WWI, Hartsdale

Clara Glen Pet Cemetery in Linwood, New Jersey, is smaller, yet it seems to appear on all maps. Truth is, the ones that do show up on maps seem to be hit or miss. Hartsdale you would expect to see on all the maps (and so it does), as it is probably one of the most expansive, and certainly is the oldest ACTIVE pet cemetery in the WORLD. Even though it was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2012, it is NOT the fanciest, or most elaborate pet cemetery! I’ve been to Sea Breeze Pet Cemetery and Crematory in Huntington Beach, CA – a city where even the pizza delivery guy drives a Porsche! That one was quite elaborate, but oddly, the species were segregated. Dogs here, cats over there.

Hartsdale’s inclusiveness broadened at some point from its original designation as a “Canine Cemetery” to an all-inclusive, non-denominational pet cemetery. Not only dogs, but other species as well – cats, birds, horses, monkeys, humans. Yes, humans … even lions and tigers (but no bears, as far as I can tell). So not only is Hartsdale nondenominational, but it is also non-species specific. They of course are a member of the IAOPC, the International Association Of Pet Cemeteries & Crematories (which you may not have even known existed). This certification organization represents “best practices in pet cremation care and pet crematory management,” which are made up of 450 standards for compliance.

The Walsh mausoleum, which is home to four spaniels (one named "Toodles")

I was intrigued from the inscriptions I saw that at least two humans seemed to be buried among the guinea pigs, lizards, and monkeys in Hartsdale. I asked the gentleman in the office if this was the case, and he said yes - but they have to be cremains (see reference). I was rather shocked to read in Hartsdale’s brochure that “over 800 humans rest with their pet companions at Hartsdale!”

Buried together ...

“New York is finally allowing pet owners to rest in peace next to the living creatures who provided so much comfort, companionship, and happiness during their time on earth. After all, it doesn’t quite make sense that humans could be buried in pet cemeteries, but not vice versa.” Read More: https://www.natureknows.org/2021/03/new-law-allows-pets-to-be-buried.html

There is also a memorial at Hartsdale to the millions of animals “taken" or sacrificed for medical research. I always hated that term, “sacrificed.” I used to do medical research in a teaching hospital and they would use that term to describe how they killed sheep. We killed them. Sure, they were “sacrificed,” but we flat-out killed them in the name of science. The general public is probably most aware of the 2013 ban on testing cosmetics on animals and on selling cosmetics tested on animals. This began with the European Union, and is spreading across the globe, as companies find alternatives for cosmetics testing that uses animals. https://www.humaneworld.org/en/issue/cosmetics-animal-testing-FAQ

"Queenie's" memorial

It is interesting (to me) to note that I’ve seen monuments in two cemeteries that acknowledge humans who have donated their bodies for scientific research. Both Hershey Cemetery in Hershey, PA and Lawnview Cemetery in Rockledge, PA have specific sections for people who have donated their bodies to science.

"Sammy"

I get it, people love their pets. I’ve kept animals at various points in my life. Kept them happy and safe, I believe. I understand that people can become very attached to their animals, and the idea of "good grief" seems to be a resounding theme at Hartsdale. Still, whenever I visit a pet cemetery, I cannot help but think how people can devote so much love, attention, and money to their pets, while there are people around them who are starving to death. We memorialize “Boots” but many people die friendless and end up being buried as relative unknowns in potters’ fields. But is there anything really wrong with that? Is there some rule or guide to indicate for us what creatures we should focus our attention on? No.

Hartsdale Pet Cemetery is a landmark to whatever – our devotion to our animal companions, I guess. According to its brochure, the Lonely Planet Travel Guidebook lists this cemetery as one of the top ten burial grounds on earth, along with the Taj Mahal and the Pyramids of Giza. As Brad Warner says in his book, Hardcore Zen, "Truth doesn't screw around, and truth doesn't care about your opinions." Perhaps visit in the spring, when all the trees and flowers are in bloom. It is an oddly comforting place, much more so than a people-only cemetery.

Locked in the Cemetery!

2025-12-03T17:54:00.000-08:00

Over the years I’ve been locked in cemeteries, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose (!). It has come to my attention that this has happened to other people as well. Intrigued, I am, so I want to gather these stories of other peoples’ experiences and publish them here. So please email me your stories, long or short, if you would like to be included in upcoming blog posts. We can publish names and dates if you wish, or you can remain anonymous.

So please share! Send your stories my way to be included in future blog posts:

mourningarts@yahoo.com or Ed.stoneangels@gmail.com

One of my accidental lock-ins that I’ve already written about on The Cemetery Traveler is titled (drum roll please) … “Locked in and Climbing Out” and is about a situation my brother and I found ourselves in back in the early 2000s. This occurred in Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. I lived in Philadelphia at the time (still do), so the public transit trek to the Bronx was no small feat. We ended up not paying attention to the “Gates Close at 4 pm” sign and got locked in. We climbed out over the fence, which was no small feat for him. You can read the entire account here.

The second time I was locked in a cemetery was Woodlawn, a couple months later, this time on purpose. I wanted to photograph certain statues as the night closes in, as the shadows flee. I was by myself and certainly didn’t expect to have my first unexplainable paranormal experience. I’d always felt that if I didn’t believe in them, they wouldn’t try to get me. Oh well. Always leave a crack in the shutters so you know when daylight comes, as poet Edward Hirsch says. You can read about my chilling experience here: "Voices in the Cemetery."

So of course I would love to hear about your scary experiences, but I’m interested in everything that broadens this horizon. The surprised feeling you get when you realize you’ve been locked inside a cemetery is strangely akin to being buried alive – or worse yet, public speaking. Panic ensues. The situation is worse, or course, when your car is locked inside with you!

Around 2020 in the Philadelphia area, I’d noticed that cemeteries were beginning to take a kinder, gentler approach to handling idiots (like me) who found themselves accidentally locked in a cemetery. The sign at left is incredibly helpful, but what about the in the pre-cell phone era? West Laurel Hill Cemetery in Bala Cynwyd, PA, installed a sign on the inside of its front gate that read something like, “If locked in, honk horn.” I guess this is great if you have your car, but if you don’t, you’re stuck inside where the zombies will eat you. I’d assumed that the horn thing was cleverly rigged up to an automatic gate-opener device, but it turns out that is not the case. A friend who worked there told me that the funeral director on-call would receive a notification that a car horn beeped, and they would then have to drive to the cemetery to open the gate. Can’t imagine the on-call person was thrilled with that task.

In the winter of 2020, I was heading toward the exit gate at Holy Cross Cemetery in Yeadon, PA, during a wicked snowstorm (yes, I was in the cemetery photographing snow as it accumulated on the monuments). Closing time was 4 pm, so at 3:30, I drove toward the entrance hoping they didn’t close early. Through the steadily falling snow, I’m watching the guy close one of the two gates! I pulled up to him and asked if they were closing early. He said yes. I said, “What would I have done if I came here at 4 pm and found the gate locked?” He said, “Just call 911 – the Police have a key.” Huh. That would never have occurred to me. Good to know!

Prior to cell phones, I'm guessing more people got locked in cemeteries. I posted requests for these stories on social media back around Halloween 2025 and then during a street party near my house, one of my neighbors came up to me and said, “Hey, I have a cemetery story for you.”

She proceeds to tell me that back in college (I’m guessing around 2005), she and a classmate were accidentally locked in a cemetery. They had to climb out over the fence. I asked where this was. To my utter surprise, she said Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx – the very same one that I had been locked in! (Alright, maybe I should narrow my sights here and focus just on people who have been locked in this particular cemetery!) She said as part of an English Literature project, they thought it would be cool to visit writer Herman Melville’s grave. They ended up getting locked in accidentally. When I asked her how they got out, I did expect a surprise ending, but, she said matter-of-factly,“We climbed over the gate.” Oh. No scary experiences, nothing? Nope. I did mention to her that if it was the rear, Jerome Avenue gate, it was the same one my brother and I climbed over. Not an insignificant feat, I might add, as the gate is probably twelve feet high.

I suppose what got me thinking about collecting these stories is the 911 call a friend of mine made this past summer from a cemetery in New Hampshire. She found herself locked in at dusk (but, she swears, the gate had been closed PRIOR to the posted closing time!). She had the extra juicy experience of being locked in with her car! At night! I’m not sure how much she panicked (knowing her, probably not much), but she had the presence of mind to call 911. They dispatched …. a fire engine! With flashing lights and everything! One would assume that she explained to the 911 dispatcher that she was locked in a cemetery, not on fire. Regardless, the firemen got out of the truck with bolt cutters and cut the chain that locked the gate!

Then there was the woman who sent me this story. She called an Uber to pick her up outside New Orleans’ Metairie Cemetery. Not unusual for NOLA, since its cemeteries are one of its biggest tourist attractions. However, she didn’t realize the gates were closed and she was locked in until AFTER she called the Uber. The driver pulled up as she threw herself over the spiked fence and landed in the decorative fountain! The driver never said a word, because one can only assume, Elizabeth says, that it's because “New Orleans is one of the few places in the world where picking up an Uber rider knee deep in a cemetery fountain they just jumped over a fence into, doesn't even rank on the strangest things” they've seen.

Imagine climbing over these spikes at Cathedral Cemetery in Philadelphia!

So, these are just a few examples of what I’ve heard so far. I’m not necessarily looking for dramatic stories, but I am looking for wider fields of fancy, as they say in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. What I’d like to focus on is how you felt when you were locked in. I know how I've felt!

So please share! Thank you!

Send your stories my way to be included in future blog posts:

mourningarts@yahoo.com or Ed.stoneangels@gmail.com

I’ll leave you with something a groundskeeper once said to me as it was nearing closing time at Baltimore’s Greenmount Cemetery. I was photographing on the grounds and this guy pulls up in a pickup truck. He says, “Gates are closing in fifteen minutes.” I don’t know what prompted me to say, “Then what happens?” Without a pause, he says, “Then we release the dogs.” Good enough for me.

Lake Lawn Metairie Cemetery, New Orleans

2025-11-27T07:07:00.000-08:00

On a blazingly hot and dazzlingly Friday morning this past June, I left New Orleans’ Greenwood Cemetery and walked the two blocks along City Park Avenue to where it turns into Metairie Road and the Lake Lawn Metairie Cemetery begins. I wasn’t sure where the entrance was, but when I arrived at the corner of Metairie Road and Pontchartrain Boulevard, the fence was low so I hopped over it and onto the property. I’m certainly no stranger to climbing fences to get into cemeteries, so clambering over a four-foot-high steel fence with no barbed wire was hardly a problem. Also, I wasn’t trespassing – the cemetery was open – I just didn’t know where the nearest entrance was.

Metairie Cemetery map showing original horse race track oval at left (ref.)

I never did find any of the official entrances – the place is so large (150 acres) you could walk for days and not find one. What adds to the feeling of being lost in here, for me, is the fact that unlike many other Victorian cemeteries, it is all flat. There are no hills, valleys, or lakes to break up the landscape. Nothing to really help you get your bearings at a glance. Without a map and a smartphone GPS, I think I might still be there walking in circles! It's layout is in fact, circular and confusing. Ovular, to be more precise – the cemetery had been a horserace track before the Civil War! The name "Lake Lawn" refers to the surrounding geographic area, by the way, which is part of the Lake District (Lake Pontchartrain), and "Metairie" is a neighborhood within the city of New Orleans. I’ve referred to this cemetery as the Metairie for about twenty years, so I will continue to refer to the city’s crown jewel by that name.

Given my interest in abandoned cemeteries (I had a book published this year called Abandoned and Forgotten Cemetries of Philadelphia and its Environs), a friend suggested recently that the cemeteries of New Orleans are the opposite of abandoned cemeteries! Meaning, that most of them are not only meticulously cared for, but are easily New Orleans’ main tourist attractions. There are about FORTY cemeteries to chose from if you want to visit, ranging from those of the grand Victorian style like Metairie, to the grim and scary vampire cemeteries like Lafayette Cemetery No. 1 such as have been popularized by writer Anne Rice. And there is everything in between. If you are a cemetery traveler, NOLA is a crucible of wonder.

One of many grand tombs at the Metairie

I would imagine that no matter how or at what point you enter the Metairie, you would be greeted with astounding funerary architecture and sculpture. The opulence and grandiosity of these monuments is in itself very distracting, leading you off in unplanned directions. So there I was, in the southeast corner near the intersection of Metairie Road and Pontchartrain Boulevard (better known as I-10, or Interstate Ten). The cemetery, being south of I-10, of course brought to mind that great Sonny Landreth song, South of I-10. Landreth is a Louisiana musician who has developed a signature slide technique on electric guitar that is absolutely stunning (click link to hear the song!). But I digress (which is what most endears me to you, right?).

Once inside the Metairie, I didn’t know which way to turn. The only things I REALLY wanted to see were the “Lost at Sea” angel memorial sculpture and Anne Rice’s mausoleum. You can spend days in here and not see everything. I had only a few hours. One thing I didn’t do was look up some of the other interesting memorials in the Metairie.

As I look at the map of the property on my laptop while writing this, I realize that I totally missed the opportunity to see and photograph the “Weeping Angel” in the Chapman H. Hyams mausoleum. This is one of several reproductions of the 1894 Angel of Grief that English sculptor William Wetmore Story created for his wife Emelyn’s grave in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome, Italy (I was in Rome a few years ago, and also missed seeing the original). I had photographed another in a cemetery in Colma, California, years ago (see my photo below), and I really would’ve like to have seen the one in the Metairie (here's a link to that one, truly an exquisite sculpture), but, I didn’t do my research ahead of time. To make matters worse, I realize now that I was only one section away from the Weeping Angel - when I hopped the fence, I went in the opposite direction.

"Angel of Grief" version in Cypress Lawn Memorial Park, Colma, CA.

Louisiana Division-Army of the Tennessee tomb

As I tried to get my bearings on the grounds, I realized I was right behind the tumulus (burial mound with crypts inside) of the Louisiana Division-Army of the Tennessee. The guy who is buried in here actually STARTED the Civil War! According to Michael Murphy’s book, Fear Dat, General Pierre Gustave Toutant-Beauregard ordered the first shots fired on Fort Sumpter. Speaking of the French, I noticed two guys in cowboy hats moseying toward the gated entrance to the tomb. I figured they’d have Southern good-ole-boy drawls so I moved in on them, thinking I’d catch some audio, to pair with a video of the memorial. As I approached them, they were speaking … French.

One of the seemingly countless lanes of tombs that make up the Metairie.

I checked Google maps on my phone to locate Anne Rice’s mausoleum (she died in 2021), thinking it might be all black and Gothy, with who knows what offerings laid at her door. They keep having to clean voodoo queen Marie Laveaux’s tomb in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 because of all the offerings - graffiti, beads, and candles left there. I figured Rice’s might be marked similarly. I got my bearings and headed in the wrong direction. By the way, when I was last in NOLA in the early 2000s (pre-Hurricane Katrina in 2005), I just walked into St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, and saw Laveaux's tomb. These days, it is only open for guided tours. A shame, really, because it is one of the few cemeteries that is within easy walking distance of the French Quarter.

Wildlife of the Metairie

The Metairie is so large, so opulent, so confusing, that I really wished I had a car, like the last time I was here. As I didn’t have a car for this trip, I took a ride-share from the airport a few days prior. As we passed over a large cemetery, I asked the driver if he had ever been in the Metairie. He responded, “Not yet.” Ha. He then added, “If I was going to pay a million dollars to be buried in there, I would want it to come with a guarantee that I’d get into heaven.” You could easily drop a cool mil for a standard-sized tomb here.

During my last visit, I stumbled upon these magnificent angels atop a tomb. I named the photo “Lost at Sea” because this Aldige family tomb commemorates a “mother, sister, and niece lost at sea on steamship Burgoyne, July 4, 1898.” I really wanted to see these beautiful angels again, but had no idea where in this vast place they were. As I ooh’d and ah’d my way past a life-sized bronze buffalo and cathedral-like white marble mausoleums, I came to a small glade of trees. It was very hot this morning and I swigged some of my water. As I ducked under the trees to get out of the piercing sun, a flock of birds singing a plangent song drew my attention. As I looked in their direction, I saw the angels! They were atop a tomb, a bit smaller than I’d remembered. Still, I suppose, they were life-sized.

When I was here in the early 2000s, I photographed these angels with black and white film (there were no digital cameras back then) and a zoom lens. I had a real camera (digital) with me this time and photographed the angels again with a zoom lens. Not only did I have rudimentary photographic equipment that first time, but I had a rudimentary understanding of the monument. “Lost at Sea” has kind of a romantic connotation, doesn't it? If you look at my recent image below, you’ll see that the angels were sculpted standing in a boat. Again, symbolic, romantic. However, when you think about a steamship accident, it does conjure horrible thoughts related to a boiler blowing up and the ship going down in flames. Turns out, the situation involving the deaths of the three Aldige women was far worse. The phrase “women and children first” has a chilling meaning related to this monument. But I will save that for a future blog post.

When I was last in NOLA, I was mainly photographing the angel statues in cemeteries. I mean, that’s ALL I photographed in HUNDREDS of cemeteries. I did that for ten years, paying little attention to epitaphs, engravings, or any story behind the monument. I’m surprised I even read the “Lost at Sea” engraving back then on this particular memorial. I was mainly enamored with the art and architecture found in these Victorian sculpture gardens. I might tell my younger self to read more inscriptions! As my friend Joe Lex says in his book, All Bones Considered, each headstone and each inscription silently pleads for you to listen to its story. As I looked up the Aldige monument on the internet to write this, I am shocked at its history. But again, I’ll save that for a future post.

Memorial stone in the Metairie Cemetery, New Orleans

I think maybe next time I visit a cemetery in some distant land, I really should plan a little better. As I was researching for this blog, I inadvertently discovered that one of my heroes, country-rock pioneer and star Gram Parsons, is buried about a mile from the Metairie in the Garden of Memories Cemetery. If I’m ever back in NOLA, I must visit his grave.

Society tomb in Metairie

After leaving the "Lost at Sea" angels, I walked between rows and rows of tombs, which seemingly went on forever. I kept checking my phone map for Anne Rice’s mausoleum, to make sure I was not veering off in the wrong direction again. But then I saw an entire roadway flanked with society crypts, or community mausoleums. Some were bright and gleaming white, others were friable and dilapidated. Some crypt covers were missing or ajar. Oh well, here I go veering away from Rice’s mausoleum… when it comes to exploring cemeteries, the Occam’s razor philosophical principle does not hold – NEVER take the simplest route in a cemetery! You’ll miss something!

Inside an open crypt in a society tomb

Author Anne Rice's mausoleum

If there are dry-rotted bedclothes, shoes, and pillows inside some of these open crypts, where are the bones? I’ll leave that up to your imagination. If nothing else, all of New Orleans stirs the imagination! Some entrepreneur’s creativity was piqued by the mysterious water-filled canal that runs through the center of the property and behind Anne Rice’s mausoleum. As I was using my phone to check Google maps for the location of her mausoleum, I hit on an ETSY site where someone is selling small bottles of water from this canal! Sort of like water from Lourdes! (Lourdes water is more expensive than water from behind Anne Rice’s final resting place, $7.99 versus $5.60, in case you’re wondering). The Rice mausoleum was rather plain. A few beads on the door, nice stained glass. Elegant. Stately.

Lake Lawn Metairie Cemetery is quite easy to get lost in. Part of it is a giant oval from the original horse race track. According to Michael Murphy’s book, Fear Dat, prior to the Civil War, the property had been a country club with a race track. According to Murphy, the club refused membership to a local newly-rich Yankee, Charles T. Howard. His response? He vowed to one day buy the club and racetrack and turn it into a cemetery. After the war, many of the formerly-wealthy prominent citizens could not keep the club in operation so it was put up for sale. Guess who bought it? And guess what he did with it?

At that point I needed to head out of the cemetery, as I needed to keep an appointment. Also, it was oppressively hot and if I didn't get out of there soon, I thought I'd die. It becomes difficult to appreciate all the architectural and sculptural beauty around you when the sweat is pouring off your face and stinging your eyes! There was a coffee shop a few blocks away near the trolley stop where I could buy a few bottles of water and freshen up. I just needed to get there. Walking out of the cemetery proved to be a daunting task. It was getting hotter and I was feeling fatigued. Tempting though that bottle of Abita beer was at the base of a monument, it was really just taunting me.

I walked under palm trees and by some incredibly sculpted gardens around monuments and mausoleums, more fine art horticulture that you would find in most arboretums and Victorian gardens. Honestly, I never saw a cemetery that oozed this much wealth – old and new money. Beauty and color and life in every direction - there is something unusual and astounding at every turn at the Metairie. Exploring this place is like finding five bucks in every pocket of your cargo pants.

And what better place to spend that cash than the Morning Call Coffee Stand next to where the colorful red trollies converge at the “Cemeteries Transit Terminal.” There are so many cemeteries in this area it is difficult to believe they did not name the place “Mourning Call Coffee Stand.” By the time I got into their air conditioning, I was exhausted. It was probably only 11 a.m. but it was close to a hundred degrees and I had been outside for four hours. I downed two bottles of cold water then went to the bathroom to freshen up. Then I had some beignets and iced coffee.

St. Roch's Cemetery and Chapel, New Orleans

2025-11-07T12:59:00.000-08:00

Figure 1. Saint Roch Campo Santo, New Orleans

It is with great pleasure that I present a guest blog post by my friend Nancy Jaynes (IG @New_Orleans_Cemeteries). As I wrote in my recent post on New Orleans cemeteries ("New Orleans' Cast-Iron Tombs"), I was not able to get into the chapel at St. Roch's - but Nancy did, a few weeks after my visit. It's only open for one hour each month, so timing is everything! I invited her to write a piece about St. Roch's for The Cemetery Traveler and she was gracious enough to do so. I hope you enjoy her wonderful writing and unique photos!

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Mark Twain first coined the phrase “Cities of the Dead” to refer to the cemeteries of New Orleans, and the nickname stuck. People sometimes refer to cemeteries in general as “boneyards.” In New Orleans, Cypress Grove Cemetery is known as “the fireman’s cemetery” because it was founded by the Firemen's Charitable and Benevolent Association as a burial place for volunteer firemen and their families. These are all nicknames. But Saint Roch Cemetery, also in New Orleans, has an actual alias.

Figure 7. Ex-voto offerings in the chapel

Its official name is Saint Roch Campo Santo, which is how the cemetery gate reads (Figure 1), but on the Findagrave website, it’s listed as Saint Roch Cemetery. Actually, there are two Findagrave listings– Saint Roch Cemetery Number 1 and Saint Roch Cemetery Number 2. According to the New Orleans Catholic Cemeteries website, “The name Campo Santo was given to the cemetery as a nod to the Campo Santo dei Tedeschi, a cemetery, church, and hospice for Germans located on the south side of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Though different in design, St. Roch Cemetery No. 1 and Campo Santo dei Tedeschi each contain the 14 Stations of the Cross.” Since the Catholic church congregation that founded the cemetery was largely made up of German immigrants to New Orleans, this allusion to Campo Santo dei Tedeschi was appropriate.

Figure 3. In the chapel of Saint Roch Cemetery Number 1

New Orleans is full of numbered cemeteries, and a few of those of the same name but with different numbers are located in different neighborhoods. However, many of the numbered cemeteries simply reflect expansions into adjacent city blocks. That’s the case with next-door neighbors, Saint Roch Number 1 and Saint Roch Number 2. Number 1 was founded in 1874, and Number 2 was an expansion that opened around 1879.

Similar to the cemetery itself, the Catholic saint called Saint Roch is known by different monikers, though his birth name is unknown. Of course, different languages refer to him in different ways. Saint Roch comes from the French, but in American English is pronounced like “Saint Rock.” There’s also São Roque (Portuguese), San Roque (Spanish), Sant Roc (Catalan), San Rocco (Italian), Sveti Rok (Slovenian), Sveti Roko (Croatian), and in Glasgow, Scotland, he might be referred to as St. Rollox.

Figure 2. Chapel in St. Roch Cemetery

Saint Roch Campo Santo in New Orleans serves as the National Shrine of Saint Roch, and the story of Saint Roch is interesting, as tales of Catholic saints often are. Legend says that he was born to a noble family in Montpelier, France, at the end of the 13th century or the early 14th century. It’s said that when he was a young man, he gave away his riches to the poor following the death of his wealthy parents. Some stories say that Saint Roch joined the Franciscan order. (Clearly, his story reflects a connection to Saint Francis of Assisi.) There are many versions of the Saint Roch story, but all say that Saint Roch set out on a pilgrimage to Rome and that as he traveled through Italy, he healed the sick and performed several healing miracles. Ironically, Saint Roch fell ill while ministering to the plague-stricken villagers, which led to his expulsion from the town. (One might wonder why the plague-ridden villagers themselves hadn’t been expelled.) Thus, Saint Roch took refuge in a nearby forest.

Ex-voto offerings in St. Roch's chapel

The story goes on to say that as Saint Roch lay languishing in the forest on the verge of death, a dog found him. Some stories say that the dog brought bread every day until Saint Roch recovered. Others state that the dog fetched his owner, who then cared for St. Roch and oversaw his recovery. All the versions that I’ve read say that St. Roch then returned to France, where he was taken for a spy in disguise as a pilgrim and was jailed for several years, dying there in prison. Some versions of his story say that an angel visited him and declared that anyone who called out to St. Roch would be spared from pestilence. In addition to his name being known as a defense against epidemics and disease, he is also a patron of pilgrims, surgeons, invalids, pharmacists, those falsely accused, dogs, and bachelors. The feast day of Saint Roch is observed on the traditional day of his death, August 16th.

In New Orleans, Saint Roch Cemetery/Campo Santo was founded by the Reverend Peter Leonard Thevis (1837-1893), the pastor of Holy Trinity Church in the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood of New Orleans. A yellow fever outbreak hit the city in 1867, and Thevis urged the congregation to pray to Saint Roch, the patron saint of the ill. Over the years, Yellow Fever outbreaks claimed about 10% of the population of the city of New Orleans, so this disease posed a real threat. According to the story, Reverend Thevis had made a promise that if Saint Roch came through for his congregation, he would build a chapel to express his gratitude and honor the saint. Since not one of his flock died from this outbreak, Thevis followed through with his promise, and the chapel (Figures 2-3) is located in Saint Roch Cemetery Number 1, in a neighborhood now called Faubourg St. Roch, adjacent to Marigny. (Old New Orleans neighborhoods are called faubourgs, the French word referring to a suburb.)

Figure 4. St. Roch with dog and leg sore

Saint Roch is usually portrayed lifting his tunic or with a torn tunic, exposing a plague lesion on his leg. He is almost always pictured with a dog. The statue next to the altar in the New Orleans chapel shows Saint Roch and the dog, with bread in its mouth; look carefully, and you might see Saint Roch’s leg sore. (Figure 4). Reverend Thevis is buried under the marble floor of the chapel (Figure 5), and there is also a bas-relief depiction of him on the wall (figure 6). In 2018, the chapel was closed and renovated over the course of several years and was completed in May of 2022; since then, the chapel is open to the public only for a few hours in the middle of the day when a mass is held on the first Friday of each month.

Figure 5. Reverend Thevis burial marker

Figure 8: Ex-voto offerings in the chapel

The small room adjacent to the main chapel has been left in its state of charming shabbiness, with an abundance of ex-voto offerings (Figures 7-8). These are offerings in recognition of answered prayers or anticipated results. Leg braces and crutches are hanging on and leaning against the walls, along with many anatomical casts and replicas. There are also hearts, tiles expressing thanks, and various other tokens and mementoes. These are left by believers to express a promise of faithfulness, devotion, and thanks for the intercession of Saint Roch. The Saint Roch chapel ex-voto offerings have accumulated over the course of decades, but as mentioned above, except for a few hours once a month, the chapel has been closed to the public since 2022, so it seems inevitable that these ex-voto offerings will soon become antiquities, artifacts of past religious practices in New Orleans. I find it sad that this folkway has been forced to come to an end.

Figure 6. Bas-relief of Reverend Peter Leonard Thevis

Sources:

https://mavcor.yale.edu/conversations/object-narratives/ex-votos-shrine-st-roch-new-orleans

https://nolacatholiccemeteries.org/st-roch-cemetery-1

https://www.saveourcemeteries.org/cemeteries/cemeteries/st-roch-nos-1-2.html

https://reliquarian.com/2020/04/04/saint-roch-the-saint-par-excellence-against-disease/

https://www.gostroch.com/storyofstroch

https://www.newadvent.org/cathen/13100c.htm

https://www.slate.com/blogs/atlas_obscura/2014/05/07/st_roch_chapel_in_new_orleans_is_filled_with_prosthetic_legs_false_teeth.html

New Orleans' Cast-Iron Tombs!

2025-10-26T14:17:00.000-07:00

Okay, so don’t let the heat dissuade you from visiting New Orleans’ wonderful cemeteries in the summer. If the opportunity presents itself, jump on it. Remember, great art comes from great pain. They say there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing choices. That said, long pants and dress shoes may not have been the best choices for walking through New Orleans’ cemeteries in 92 degree weather. Now 92 degrees didn’t sound THAT hot, but here’s what Weather Atlas had to say about New Orleans’ tropical climate for June, 2025 when I was there:

“The average heat index in June is estimated at a very hot 102.2°F (39°C). Undertake extra safety actions, heat cramps and heat exhaustion are expected. Heatstroke may result from lengthy activity. Be advised, the heat index considers values for conditions in shade and with a light breeze. Direct sunlight might cause an increase of up to 15 Fahrenheit (8 Celsius) degrees in the heat index.”

Perhaps the weather would have been more tolerable had I been on a riverboat out on the Mississippi, but I wasn’t. I have to say, I’ve never appreciated large mausoleums more than when I was in NOLA, for the merciful shade they offer! I was there for a work conference in June, 2025, so I planned to take in a few cemeteries at the time. Scheduling was inopportune, as the annual conference for the Association for Gravestone Studies was happening at the same time, in York, PA, which is only about an hour’s drive from where I live in Philadelphia. Really would have liked to attend that, even virtually, but the gestalt was not now. Or then. So, given I would be in Nawlins for three days, I needed to hit some of those marvelous cemeteries.

A few months prior, I got in touch with Nancy Jaynes who posts a lot about New Orleans cemeteries on Instagram (as @new_orleans_cemeteries) to help plan my trip. I had been to New Orleans twice, but decades ago, pre-Katrina. I was grateful for Nancy’s guidance as to which cemeteries to visit, on what days, hours of operation, etc. I had told her that one place I really wanted to see was the chapel inside St. Roch Cemetery, the one with all the antique prosthetics hanging on the walls! Unfortunately, when I checked St. Roch’s website, it said the chapel is only open the first Friday of each month from 11:00 am to Noon! That is one tight window. Again, my schedule would not permit visiting.

St. Roch Chapel, photo by Nancy Jaynes (@new_orleans_cemeteries)

But since you’re lathering with anticipation at that, here’s a photo Nancy made a few weeks after my visit. After I returned home, I got in touch with Nancy who graciously agreed to write a blog on St. Roch’s for the Cemetery Traveler, with her wonderful photos, so look for that coming soon!

But back to my June visit. Nancy and I planned to meet at St. Patrick’s Cemetery No. 2 on my second day. Therefore, I figured I’d hit St. Roch’s and another one on my first day. Even though I knew I could not get into the chapel, the St. Roch’s website makes the cemetery looks incredibly interesting.

I thought it would make sense to visit two cemeteries each morning, before it got really hot. So I mapped out a few places I wanted to visit and made a plan. I would Uber/Lyft early in the mornings to arrive at the usual 8 a.m. opening time (most cemeteries here are gated and locked), do some photography for a couple hours, then rideshare to the convention center. A good thing is that all of these cemeteries are within twenty minutes of the convention center. New Orleans has about forty cemeteries to choose from! Many are large and would take hours to walk through. A few are open for guided tours only, but most are open to the public, from about 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.

On the first day, Thursday, I called a Lyft driver to take me to St. Roch’s. I stopped in a convenience store in the Quarter and picked up a couple bottles of cold water and snacks, shoved them in my camera backpack and took to the streets to get my ride.

After driving awhile, my driver pulls over. We’re in front of Cypress Grove Cemetery, Canal Street, nowhere near St. Roch’s. Ah well, I figured I’d spend the morning here and put off St. Roch’s for my third day. Across City Park Avenue from Cypress Grove is the very large Greenwood Cemetery, with the massive Metairie two blocks away. I had intended to see all these anyway.

What I hadn’t expected was that it would be unbearably hot at 8 a.m. … each day. I’m talking sweat pouring down my face, stinging my eyes. Then it would rain every afternoon, so the humidity was omnipresent. After an hour, I felt like pouring the two bottles of cold water on my head instead of drinking them. But I didn’t want to die, so I drank in the shade of Cypress Grove's impressive entranceway. I could see down the rows that its old tombs were not all that interesting. All above ground, which is the New Orleans way. As Mary LaCoste says in her book, Death Embraced - New Orleans Tombs and Burial Customs, this is as much a European tradition as it is a physical necessity due to New Orleans being at sea level (can’t dig due to the high water table). I only spent a half hour in here, because the much more opulent Greenwood was beckoning to me from across the street, with its towering monuments.

Leeds Tomb, Cypress Grove Cemetery

But Cypress Grove will always have a special place in my heart – it was here that I saw my first cast iron tomb, the Leeds Tomb! This is one of NOLA’s oldest cemeteries, established in 1838 by the Fireman’s Fund, to honor New Orleans’ volunteer firemen and their families. When that cemetery became full, the Firemen’s Charitable & Benevolent Association opened the much larger cemetery in 1842 across the street, called Greenwood. The cast iron tomb is essentially a mausoleum, made of brick, and plated with cast iron panels. Sometimes the iron is rusted like the tomb you see here, and sometimes they are well-maintained and painted!

Mer-lion downspout!

I owe my knowledge of these unique architectural marvels to Nancy Jaynes, who has posted on Instagram many photos of them with wonderful historic information. This one with the fish (or mer-lion, if you look closely!) downspouts is simply spectacular. In all of NOLA’s forty cemeteries, there are only 16 cast iron tombs. I feel honored that during my short, whirlwind visit, I think I saw five of them! You can read more about them at this link.

There are of course many small details throughout these cemeteries which add very personal touches to the grave sites – small angels, plaques, sparkly beaded necklaces. The six-foot tall tomb buildings themselves are usually very similar, with only the names and dates varying from one to the next, and the next, and the next, as you peer down rows and rows of these above-ground burial buildings. Whitewashing seems to be popular. Which of course makes them blinding to the eyes in the torrential Louisiana sunshine. This photo above just seems to be of a bright white tomb. I really cannot fully express the pain these things cause when you are trying to squint at and photograph them! And no, it did not occur to me to bring sunglasses.

Burned-out van with Greenwood Cemetery in background

As I walked out to City Park Avenue, I noticed a burned out van right in front of Greenwood Cemetery. Odd. Fried chicken parts on the back seat springs. I crossed over and entered Greenwood. I was taken by its beautifully ornate – and dry – fountain. I climbed inside to do a little shooting – inside the fountain, that is. Workers driving by didn’t seem to care. As it was getting hotter by the second, I realized I needed to plan my time better so I climbed out of the fountain and began roaming around the grounds. I got some ok photos of the fountain, but it was a pyrrhic victory.

Miltenberger cast-iron clad tomb, Greenwood Cemetery

Greenwood has a few cast iron tombs as well – the most amazing of which is this recently-painted silver one! The figures on the door are actually cast iron as well. I tugged a bit on the angel, but the door did not open (yes, I know, my sins are a stench in the nostrils of God, as Billy Graham would say). On Greenwood’s webpage, you can see a photo of this Family Tomb in its prior state. Emily Ford, in her blog post () tells us that Greenwood Cemetery has six cast-iron tombs, five of which were produced by Wood & Miltenberger & Co., a branch of Wood & Perot Ironworks. At six iron-clad tombs, Greenwood has the most of any cemetery in New Orleans. And one of them is for the Miltenberger iron works family.

But Greenwood has many wonders besides its cast iron architecture, such as the tall and stately fireman memorial and various Civil War monuments. All along the fencing facing the roadway are banners extolling the fact that it is “Still Affordable!” Affordable is key, as Greenwood is situated right next to Metairie Cemetery, where a plot will cost you double the amount of money! $5,000 versus $10,000 for a basic plot. In fact, the market for trading cemetery property seems to be a hot one in New Orleans, as you can see from these sites:

https://www.buriallink.com/cemeteries/greenwood-cemetery-and-mausoleum-la

https://thecemeteryexchange.com/tce-metairie-la.htm

https://thecemeteryexchange.com/25-0423-4-featuredlisting-la.htm

I really wanted to get to the Metairie, so after only about half an hour in Greenwood, I exited and began walking down City Park Avenue, away from the tempting chicory coffee and powdered-sugar-covered beignets at the Morning Call Coffee Stand and toward Metairie. More about my adventures in that fabulous place coming soon!

"Dark Shadow's" Crypt at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery

2025-10-23T11:40:00.000-07:00

I never thought I’d associate my Mom with vampires, but stranger things have happened. My Mom, who passed away in 2023, was an avid fan of the daytime American Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows, which aired on ABC-TV from 1966 to 1971. It was one of the things we bonded over. I was probably nine or ten years old. I would come home from school and watch it with her every weekday at 4 pm. Those characters – Barnabas Collins (the main vampire), Angelique (a witch), Quentin (a werewolf) – were all super scary. I remember naming our cat, “Quentin.”

To my surprise, during a fall midnight lantern tour of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery (in Sleepy Hollow, New York), the tour guide, John, showed us one of the scene locations of Dark Shadows! As we stood in front of a mausoleum – in the dark, lit by a dozen lanterns – John told us that the show’s producers wanted to use a particular mausoleum as the “Collins” mausoleum that Barnabas called home. Really? Wow! THAT was unexpected! (You see, I never do any research ahead of exploring a cemetery - I like surprises). But the family that owned that mausoleum would not give permission to use the structure. My hopes dashed.

“I don’t wanna be buried in a pet sematary!”

But then …John says, we WILL see another site on the property that WAS used for scenes in Dark Shadows. Damn! My lucky day! He said nothing for the next half hour as our group of twenty people trod from site to site in the dark. As we trudged forth into the darkness, we heard screams off in the distance – which I assume came from the tour group ahead of us as those people were being eaten. We saw the original graveyard of the Old Dutch Church, the graves of historical figures like Andrew Carnegie and the Rockefellers, and heard various stories involving local history and folklore. The photo you see above was made on the location where the Ramones shot the video for their song, “Pet Sematary!”

Receiving Vault

Finally, up a small incline above Washington Irving’s grave, we came to the receiving vault. After explaining that this structure, built into the hillside, was used to temporarily store bodies in winter while waiting for the ground to thaw (prior to the Industrial Revolution, graves had to be dug by hand), our guide told us that this structure had been mocked up and used as the Collins’ family crypt for the Dark Shadows television serial!

Barnabas and friend, inside a crypt

After John explained what the receiving vault was used for, he asked if anyone wanted to go inside. Of course everyone yelled, “Yes!” Nothing about the tour was really spooky, but this made up for it! He unlocked the door (with a skeleton key, I believe) and we filed inside. I certainly did not expect to see an open crypt with Barnabas Collins’ framed portrait inside! Jonathan Frid is the actor who played this role. There were three or four other large glossy photos on the opposite wall showing scenes from Dark Shadows, portraying the various regulars from the show.

Collins Family Mausoleum

Above is a photo hung inside the receiving vault showing the outside with the mocked up “COLLINS” name above the door, and some Gothic-looking statues flanking it. In the television show, Barnabas’ coffin was actually hidden behind a wall in the Collins mausoleum. You would pull the lionhead chain above one of the crypts to open the wall. Barnabas would rise out of his coffin and bite you. If you check out some of the Dark Shadows episodes on YouTube you might be surprised at how well they were done. Sixties’ horror movies are famously cheesy, but Dark Shadows can be genuinely tense and frightening. Happy Halloween!

Book Release: "Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs"

2025-08-10T14:10:00.000-07:00

My new book has just been released! Thank you to everyone who pre-ordered Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs – you should all have your copies in hand at this point. As always, I welcome feedback on the book.

I did an in-person book launch presentation on July 24, 2025 at the Athenaeum of Philadelphia, a week after the book was released. Head House Books was in attendance selling copies that I signed. It was great speaking with people about so many aspects of abandoned cemeteries – thank you all for coming! I do have five additional events scheduled throughout the fall in the Philadelphia area, so if you are interested in attending a lecture presentation or would like to chat or get a book signed, I’ve listed these at the end.

Now for a little bit about the book itself – here are the topics I cover:

• Why and how are cemeteries abandoned?

• City versus rural cemeteries and the demise of Lafayette Cemetery

• The Watery Remains of Monument Cemetery

• Genealogical challenges

• The Surprise Below -

First Baptist Church and Weccacoe Playground/Burial Ground

• Mount Moriah Cemetery – A Resurrection

• The Cemetery business model, old and new

• Mount Vernon and Har Hasetim Cemeteries -

Teetering on the edge of oblivion

• Volunteerism and respect for the past

..............................

Were I to do it all over, I might subtitle my book, The Collapse of Eloquence. It’s a phrase from Kurt Vonnegut’s novel Bluebeard. The actual title of my new book is Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs, and it was released into the wild in July, 2025 (America Through Time). The Collapse of Eloquence aptly describes the not uncommon result of people’s efforts to memorialize themselves, their story, only to find that their monuments to immortality did not stand the test of time. Maybe their descendants discovered this, if they even cared. Sometimes our best efforts to preserve a memory ends with the monument disintegrating. Sometimes nature washes it away (as happened in the central Texas flood in July, 2025), and sometimes even our progeny make those memories disappear.

Abandoned community mausoleum, Plains, PA.

Cemetery History

Philadelphia is no different from any other major American city. Its residents die, so we bury them in a churchyard. (Everyone dies, even Ozzy.) The city grows and the churchyard becomes full. The land becomes too valuable for graves as the city expands so the graves are either relocated or built upon. Large rural cemeteries are created. A hundred years later, they are no longer rural – these same cemeteries find themselves now in the middle of the larger city, just as the small church graveyards once found themselves in the way of “progress.” Some cemeteries survive this evolution, others do not. When the cemetery disappears, sometimes the burial records disappear too. Then memories collapse.

ChesLen Preserve Potters Field, Chester County, PA

As I wrote the book, there were many ideas I wanted to get across, topics I wanted to cover, e.g. the history of cemeteries in Philadelphia, why some have disappeared, why cemeteries are abandoned. I was interviewed by Linda Gould of the Cemetery Chronicles podcast in July and she asked me an interesting question – were there any themes or topics that arose while I wrote the book, that I hadn’t planned. And yes, there were. Volunteerism was one, i.e. how historic preservation is so greatly dependent on volunteers! Another was one she put into words quite eloquently - the fragility and relative impermanence of cemeteries. We think of cemeteries as rather staid entities, not very dynamic. We may assume that the most dramatic thing that happens is a few graves get dug each week.

Cemeteries, however, are quite dynamic! It is very possible that the cemetery you drive past each day may be on the verge of bankruptcy. High grass is a sign, for sure, of potential problems, e.g. with Har Jehuda Cemetery in Upper Darby, PA. Or, in the case of Mount Vernon Cemetery at Ridge and Lehigh Avenues in north Philly, the absence of tall weeds and grass may be an indication of quite the opposite. THAT cemetery was purchased in the spring of 2025, by an individual who is in the process of restoring it and turning it into an active “green burial” ground! It had been locked up with its trees and other foliage growing wild for decades.

Gardel Monument, Mount Vernon Cemetery, 2021

In the introduction to the book I wrote that I’d been working on it for twenty years, although I didn’t realize it all that time. I’d been documenting my cemetery travels (which began at the turn of the century - the twenty-first) since 2010 in my blog, The Cemetery Traveler. After photographing, exploring, volunteering in, researching and writing about hundreds of cemeteries across the United States, it occurred to me that the “abandoned” cemetery captivated my interest more than any other “type” of cemetery. When I would lecture about such places, people would invariably ask, how does a cemetery become ABANDONED? For many, this is incomprehensible. Hence, there is a chapter in the book exploring that phenomenon. Examples are given, e.g. Har Hasetim (est. 1890), the formerly abandoned Jewish cemetery in the woods of Gladwyne, PA (a Philadelphia suburb) and Mount Moriah Cemetery (est. 1855), a massive 200-acre property which was easily the nation’s largest abandoned cemetery when it was deserted in 2010. These also happen to be success stories, believe it or not – cemeteries that were saved from oblivion. Many Philadelphia cemeteries were not.

Mount Moriah Cemetery, Philadelphia, circa 2010

In Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs, I look at many cemeteries that have disappeared, or in some cases, just seem to have disappeared. Some have just been built over. Some, the bodies have been moved, others they have not. Monument Cemetery, the city’s second Victorian garden cemetery (est. 1837, after Laurel Hill, est. 1836) was destroyed in 1956 when Temple University acquired it to expand student parking. You can read about this travesty in my book, and see color photos of all the gravemarkers that were removed from the cemetery and dumped into the Delaware River under what is now the Betsy Ross Bridge. (The book is photograph-intensive, by the way, with 140 full-color images). Some large cemeteries like Monument and Lafayette Cemetery (which used to occupy the space that is now Capitolo Playground, near the cheese steak emporiums in south Philly) have barely left a trace. And where are the bodies? 47,000 from Lafayette and 28,000 from Monument? These are not pretty stories, but I cover them in the book.

Under the Betsy Ross Bridge

Many large cemeteries disappeared (sounds like someone just waved a magic wand, doesn’t it?), but scores of small ones did too. “Disappearing” could simply mean the graveyard was built over, like the Odd Fellows Cemetery under the playground of the William K. Dick Elementary School. It is fascinating to note that the Philadelphia Archeological Forum (PAF) has mapped out over 200 unmarked burial grounds throughout the city, with the intent that building developers take heed and do the right thing. Really, you cannot dig anywhere in Philadelphia without hitting a coffin, it seems. Temple found this out in March of 2025 when it tried to dig a foundation for a new building on the site of the old Monument Cemetery. Oops, they really DIDN’T move all the graves! And forget that “six feet under” idea. Burials were found eighteen inches under the blacktopped surface at Weccacoe Playground in Queen Village in 2014.

Weccacoe Playground, aka the Mother Bethel Burial Ground

Laws and Statutes

First Baptist Church plot at Mount Moriah Cemetery

Unfortunately, the laws that govern what happens when a backhoe accidentally crushes through buried wooden coffins are not well understood. They exist, but may not even be known to the parties involved. This is what happened at 218 Arch Street in 2017 when the foundation was being dug for a new condo complex. Legally, these thousands of full casket burials from the First Baptist Church of Philadelphia were on private property, so the developer had a certain responsibility. In Philadelphia, if human remains are found on private property, the landowner does not own any of the remains interred in that land. Under Pennsylvania law, such remains are under the control of next of kin/descendants and the courts. In this case, one would expect that the developer would have needed a court order to disturb these burials. He did allow about 500 burials to be excavated (and reburied at Mount Moriah Cemetery) but eventually the building went up - leaving an estimated 2,500 burials under the street. Apparently, this developer never saw the movie, Poltergeist.

Arch Street, where First Baptist remains were found to be not relocated to Mount Moriah

The PAF map was published in 2018, just after the Arch Street excavation, so this resource was not available for the developer to check for unmarked cemeteries before digging. The hope now is that developers WILL check the map first, then do the respectful thing. Or the legal thing. Hopefully both. Legally, in Philadelphia, if you do not “disturb” the human remains, you can build on, around, or over them. If you DO disturb the remains, then the Philadelphia Orphans Court has to get involved (along with the city coroner, police, archeologists, and so on) – but that’s only if the developer lets anyone know that human remains were discovered.

(PAF) Philadelphia Historical Unmarked Burial Places Map

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

In Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs, I have tried to balance some good with the bad. Cemeteries that were saved, versus cemeteries that were destroyed, or just paved over like Bishops’ Burial Ground under Washington Avenue at 8th Street in South Philly. Or the previously unmarked Mother Bethel Burial Ground under the Weccacoe Playground in Queen Village, which is home to about 5,000 very quiet neighbors. After the accidental excavation of graves at Weccacoe in 2015, the Philadelphia Archaeological Forum (PAF) created its map of unmarked burial grounds. This fascinated me. I quickly looked at the area of the proposed Seventy-Sixers basketball arena in Chinatown to see if any unmarked graveyards would be disturbed … and yes there were two! The plan was abandoned though, so the arena is not being built. The burial grounds continue to rest quietly under the streets.

Southwark Community Garden, Queen Village (photo by Paul Wismar)

Back at the beginning of this piece, I said I’d been working on the book for the past twenty years. I didn’t realize it until last year when a publisher contacted me. When I was almost ready to upload the final edited manuscript in the fall of 2024, it occurred to me to look at the places I’d lived in Philadelphia to see if there were cemeteries in those areas. Eureka! The apartment building I used to live in on Queen Street was built over the Sixth Presbyterian Church Burial Ground! (Which could explain why one of the closets rained from time to time.) In addition, the community garden directly behind my apartment complex (shown in the photo above) was ALSO built over a different cemetery, the Ebenezer Church Burial Ground!! No wonder my neighbors’ vegetables are so plump and tasty, the flowers so vibrant. I find it amusing that they refer to their individual garden sections as plots.

That’s just one example of how new information bubbles to the surface and allows me to update the presentations I give from time to time. Here’s a link to that PAF map, if you’d like to see if you’re living on top of an old cemetery (or better yet, find out if a neighbor you dislike is living on top of one!):

https://www.phillyarchaeology.net/wp-content/gismaps_maps/BurialMapV4/index.html#12/40.0102/-75.1089

I plan to do more speaking engagements this year, with book signings and so on. But these won’t be canned presentations. They will always be updated with current developments. People think cemeteries are fixed entities, unchanging pieces of property that simply get the grass cut every couple weeks. This is, oddly, not the case. Every time I lecture, there is new information, even if I’m discussing the same topic, the same cemetery. Consider the recent development where Temple University rediscovered graves under a parking lot excavation on April 12, 2025.

Temple's April 2025 excavation ends when they hit coffins six feet under.

Monument Cemetery, Gleason's Pictorial 1852

They were digging a foundation for a new building on the old Monument Cemetery site, whose graves were supposedly all moved in 1956. You can read about this “surprise” in the May 28, 2025 Philadelphia Inquirer article, “The discovery of human remains at Temple is a reminder of Philly’s history of careless cemetery removals.” Forget a collapse of eloquence, this is a collapse of respect. The article states, “We’ve long known about the careless, politically corrupt removal of cemeteries across the city from the mid-19th to mid-20th centuries, including Monument Cemetery at the site of the university.” Maybe you didn’t know this. It is my belief that you should, which is one of the major points of my book. Owning up to our mistakes of the past and striving to do better in the future will make us better people.

On a positive note, Laurel Hill Cemetery recently completed (in May, 2025) a massive year-long restoration project of its 1836 John Notman-designed gatehouse. For all its beauty and elegance, few people realize that Laurel Hill narrowly averted disaster in the 1970s. At that point, it was nearly full, its condition steadily declining since WWII. Its grandiose monuments were covered with graffiti; all the Tiffany stained-glass windows had been stolen from its mausoleums. The savior of the cemetery arrived in 1978 when the Friends of Laurel Hill volunteer organization was formed. Laurel Hill now thrives, its collapse of eloquence halted, its story continuing in grand tradition. Many memory gardens were not so lucky. Some, like Mount Vernon Cemetery (est. 1856) across Ridge Avenue from Laurel Hill, have been hanging on by a thread, locked up and neglected for decades. Since my book went to press, there has been an interesting development with that cemetery, as I mentioned earlier. After famously being advertised for sale on Zillow for a million dollars in 2024, it has been purchased with plans to care for the grounds and make it not only a walkable green space for the neighborhood, but to also make it a green burial site!

Mount Vernon Cemetery, 2013

Impermanence vs. Perpetual Care

Rest in peace. Perpetual care. What do those phrases even mean in light of all this tumultuous activity? One thing it means is that some people are now demanding legal clauses in their burial contracts that say their remains will NEVER be disturbed. But who’s to say what will happen in a hundred years’ time? As we ponder all this and move toward a better, more respectful future, consider what Ben Franklin said: “Show me your cemeteries and I will tell you what kind of people you have.“

So my book, again, captures the fragility, the impermanence of these entities we assumed would last forever. Our cemeteries are part of our history, and whenever we lose one, we lose a chapter in our city's history. Historic sites depend greatly on the efforts of volunteers, so if you are so inclined, please consider volunteering your time to help out at your local cemetery.

References and Calendar of Events:

Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs is available at the online retailers:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/abandoned-and-forgotten-cemeteries-of-philadelphia-and-its-environs-ed-snyder/1146630922

https://www.amazon.com/Abandoned-Forgotten-Cemeteries-Philadelphia-Environs/dp/1634995236

https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Abandoned-Forgotten-Cemeteries-Philadelphia-Its/Ed-Snyder/9781634995238

*********************

I will have books at several events in the fall, if you would like me to sign one. The first two are public lectures and the last three are events where I will also be selling my books and fine art cemetery photography:

(Lecture presentations below require online registration)

Ludington Library (Lower Merion Library System), 5 South Bryn Mawr Avenue, Bryn Mawr, PA 19010

October 9th, 2025 (7 pm)

https://lmls.libcal.com/event/14489528

Wissahickon Valley Public Library - Ambler Branch

209 Race Street, Ambler PA 19002 Sept. 17, 2025, 6:30 pm.

https://www.wvpl.org/abandoned-and-forgotten-cemeteries-phila-and-its-environs

Market of the Macabre at Laurel Hill Cemetery – Saturday, Sept. 20, 2025

https://laurelhillphl.com/events/annual-events/market-of-the-macabre/

Darksome Art Market at Mount Moriah Cemetery – Saturday, Oct. 4, 2025

https://www.darksomecraftmarket.com/mountmoriah

Chestnut Hill Arts Festival – Sunday, Oct. 12, 2025

https://chestnuthillpa.com/events/fallforthearts-2025/

More Stolen Mausoleum Doors

2025-04-21T17:34:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine recently posted on social media that a huge tree fell in the Mount Holly Cemetery (Mount Holly, New Jersey), where her Mom is buried. It hit a mausoleum, and her guess was that the impact knocked the doors off. They were gone. I assume that they were stolen either before or after the tree hit the structure.

Over the years I’ve written about stolen bronze mausoleum doors (my first post was in 2013, “Stealing from the Dead”). Why does this happen? When the U.S. economy is in a downturn, scrap metal prices generally decrease - but if the cost of living goes up concurrently, people will do whatever they can to put food on the table. So now that the economy is in a Kamikaze nosedive, it is not surprising that these doors are being stolen.

While each door has an estimated replacement value of $10,000, current scrap value is about $500 for each 200-pound bronze door. According to www.scrapmetalmonster.com, current price (April 14, 2025) for bronze is about $2.35 per pound. I had said in the past that $500 would buy a lot of drugs. Now, with the economy tanking, prices and inflation going through the roof, that same $500 will buy a lot of groceries.

And the Hits Just Keep on Coming...

Now, obviously, it is not easy to steal mausoleum doors. At 200 pounds per door, this is at least a two-person job, with power tools and a truck. You also need a victim cemetery, privacy, and a salvage yard willing to accept such objects (and not call the police). Those are just the things I can think of. Regardless, during the month of February, 2025, there was a rash of mausoleum door thefts in eight Delaware County (borders Philadelphia to the west) cemeteries. Maybe a new theft ring is targeting these items, now that catalytic converters are too hot for thieves and salvage yards to deal with?

Thieves steal mausoleum doors from cemeteries across Philadelphia, Delaware, Bucks and Montgomery counties - 6abc Philadelphia

Thieves hit seven cemeteries in Philadelphia and surrounding suburbs:

Saints Peter & Paul Cemetery in Marple Township
Montefiore Cemetery in Jenkintown
Forest Hills Cemetery in Huntingdon Valley
North Cedar Hill Cemetery in Philadelphia
Mt. Sharon Cemetery in Springfield
Roosevelt Memorial Park in Trevose
Oakland Cemetery in Philadelphia

Over the years, I’ve warned cemetery managers about this and suggested they install video cameras aimed at mausoleums that are not in clear view of the public roads. Locked gates and fencing does not deter these thieves. Doors have been stolen from mausoleums in Philadelphia’s Mount Vernon Cemetery and Laurel Hill Cemetery. Both have locked gates and intact fencing. The doors had to be removed, carried across the cemetery grounds, lifted over the fence, and loaded onto a truck.

What some cemeteries have done is cover mausoleum doors with plywood or wall up the opening with cinder blocks. This takes away from the aesthetic, of course, and obstructs your view of the stained glass windows, which can usually be seen through a door with decorative openings. But maybe that’s a good thing. Thieves steal the windows too - there is a black market for those, especially Tiffany windows.

In the case of thieves involved in the 2014 thefts from Holy Cross Cemetery in Yeadon, PA (suburb of Philadelphia) noted below, they were caught selling the bronze bars that protect the stained glass windows, in addition to the mausoleum doors.

In that particular situation reported by the Delco Times, police obtained video surveillance recordings from a scrap yard showing the thieves with the bronze doors and bars. Scrap dealers can also get into trouble with the law for buying such objects. The thieves in this case were actually employees of Holy Cross Cemetery! They had stolen doors from three of its mausoleums - an inside job.

After thefts, some cemeteries board up the mausoleum entrance and windows, but some even do this to PROTECT the doors and windows to PREVENT theft. It looks like Atlantic City Cemetery installed new replacement doors on many of its mausoleums (I don’t understand the red Mylar or Plexiglas cover, which has been installed on many mausoleums in the cemetery). And who pays for this - either the preventive work or the repair/replacement? Probably the family owning the mausoleum. I cannot imagine the cemetery itself would foot the bill – unless they have some sort of insurance. Plus, how do you replace antique doors and windows? Guess what? You can’t. When doors are cut up for scrap, that’s the end of that. Toast can’t ever be bread again.

If you’re a descendant of a wealthy family that owns a mausoleum, can you buy mausoleum owner’s insurance, like homeowners’ insurance? Turns out you CAN, as you see here from Trusted Choice Insurance company. But my guess is that if people living in a flood plain rarely buy flood insurance, then not many people own mausoleum insurance.

Though the U.S. economy is currently in a wild downturn, metal theft in cemeteries is not a recent phenomenon. About ten years ago, workers at Laurel Hill Cemetery had to do some restoration work on a mausoleum whose doorway was cemented closed with cinder blocks. Once the workers broke through the cinder block wall, they were surprised to find that the bronze doors were INSIDE, leaning against a wall! My guess is that someone did this decades ago for safekeeping. These mausolea may have stood the test of time, but now they seem vulnerable to crime. They've existed, impervious, like small castles for a hundred years, but now we find ourselves on the wrong side of their history.

Older Victorian-era cemeteries barely have enough money to cut the grass, let alone hire a 24/7 security force. I wish there were a silver lining here, a simple solution, or an upbeat way to end this piece. It will have to stand as a cautionary tale, unfortunately. If the situation pisses you off, I second that emotion. Hopefully, someone will develop the successful long game.

References:

https://thecemeterytraveler.blogspot.com/2013/12/stealing-from-dead.html

https://scrapmetalmonster.com/scrap-metal-prices#:~:text=In%20the%20United%20States%2C%20ferrous%20scrap%20prices%20vary,heavy%20melting%20scrap%20is%20approximately%20%24350%20per%20ton.

https://6abc.com/post/thieves-steal-mausoleum-doors-cemeteries-philadelphia-delaware-bucks-montgomery-counties/15977616/

https://www.delcotimes.com/2014/06/11/second-guilty-plea-in-cemetery-thefts/

https://www.trustedchoice.com/homeowners-insurance/home-coverage-types/grave-memorial-coverage/

More Graves Unearthed on Temple's Campus

2025-04-13T12:57:00.000-07:00

On April 11, 2025, the news announced that coffins and human remains were found during excavation for a new building on the Temple University campus in Philadelphia. Temple supposedly expected this. And they should have, since this former parking lot at Broad and Berks Streets had been home to 28,000 graves. Its kind of odd how NBC reports that the bodies were relocated in the 1950s to Lawnview Cemetery in Rockledge, a northeast Philly suburb. Well, obviously not all the bodies. The gravestones were not relocated there – they were dumped into the Delaware River.

Gravemarkers along the Delaware River, under Betsy Ross Bridge

Like so many other sites in Philadelphia formerly occupied by burial grounds, buildings that require deep foundations are seldom constructed. Guess why. Typically, a playground, ball park, or a parking lot is built on the land. Temple shelved plans for building a new football stadium where their Geasey Field is, most likely, because they were afraid to unearth graves. That complicates things. The current excavation has stopped. Temple was prepared, says the news, and immediately brought in the police, Philadelphia Coroner’s Office, a medical examiner, and an archeologist.

Slogging around in the mud at the site I really had a sense that I had trodden on sacred ground. When we bury our people, we are bequeathing their remains to the earth. Handing it down, so to speak, in a reverent manner. This is not like throwing out the trash. When a cemetery is vacated, repurposed, not everything can be removed. It is just not possible. Remnants, no matter how small, remain. Bone fragments, coffins.

When I reached into the mud to pick up a few pieces of the stone that had been broken away from the old cemetery wall, there was mud all over my hands. I got a jarring feeling as it covered my fingers – this is the same soil that held 28,000 bodies in 1956.

Its like what Mark Twain said when he visited the Holy Land in 1867: you don’t need to be a Christian to realize and respect that something significant happened here.

Current construction showing cemetery wall that borders North Broad Street

Why has Philadelphia abandoned and moved so many cemeteries throughout its history? We put forth great effort to memorialize ourselves, only to find that our monuments to immortality have not stood the test of time. As the city grew, cemeteries were unceremoniously destroyed. People actually now make stipulations in their burial contracts that their remains shall never be disturbed. There are, however, some recent and ongoing success stories in and around Philadelphia, where faltering cemeteries have been stabilized and restored by volunteers. Is it because we now care more than we used to?

Barnes and Noble link to preorder

I cover many of these topics in my new book, Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs (Fonthill, 2025). In fact, what happened to Monument Cemetery is covered in great detail, with many photos of the gravestones under the Betsy Ross Bridge. One of them graces the cover of the book. (You can preorder the book from Amazon here - publication June 30, 2025.) In addition to the removal of cemeteries, the book – and upcoming public presentations – will focus on recent discoveries, the frequent accidental unearthing of human remains, genealogical challenges, and the 200 unmarked burial grounds that silently sleep under Philadelphia’s streets, parking lots, and playgrounds. Ben Franklin said, “Show me your cemeteries and I will tell you what kind of people you have.”

It will be interesting to see how this situation at Temple plays out. The coffins and bones were found about six feet below the surface of the original parking lot. As we all know, burials can be stacked. There could be layers of coffins deeper down. I am curious about Temple’s “protocol,” as they call it, for when human remains are found. I am curious about Temple’s “protocol,” as they call it, for when human remains are found. In Philadelphia, if the remains are found on private property, the landowner (in this case Temple University) does not own any human remains interred in that land. Under Pennsylvania law, such remains are under the control of next of kin/descendants and the courts. In this case, one would expect that Temple would have needed a court order to disturb these burials.

Original cemetery gatehouse on Broad Street

The plot of land where the discovery was made is to be the future home of Temple’s Klein College of Media and Communication, with planned completion in 2027. I wonder if the cemetery wall will remain, which still borders Broad Street? (You can see the wall in the gatehouse lithograph at left.) Current Temple students being interviewed find this all rather spooky. One student states that it's a weird history for a building where students will have to take classes. They will know that the building was constructed over a cemetery, and they did not remove all the bodies. Obviously the developer never saw the movie, Poltergeist.

As Temple’s online newsletter states, “This is a developing story, check back for updates.” (Click here for CBS News video.)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Please visit my previous posts on The Cemetery Traveler to read the history of Monument Cemetery, including its destruction and aftermath:

The Watery Remains of Monument Cemetery (April 30, 2011)

https://thecemeterytraveler.blogspot.com/2011/04/watery-remains-of-monument-cemetery.html

How Monument Cemetery was Destroyed (May 6, 2011)

https://thecemeterytraveler.blogspot.com/2011/05/how-monument-cemetery-was-destroyed.html

Beachcombing in Hell – The Gravestones of Monument Cemetery (March 16, 2012)

https://thecemeterytraveler.blogspot.com/2012/03/beachcombing-in-hell-gravestones-of.html

References for the current blog post:

https://temple-news.com/bone-fragments-caskets-discovered-at-klein-cpca-construction-site/

https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/bone-fragments-caskets-found-at-temple-university-construction-site-students-quick-to-react-its-creepy/ar-AA1COfI6?ocid=BingNewsSerp

https://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/news/local/temple-university-construction-philadelphia-remains-monument-cemetery/4159068/

The Potters' Field in Mt. Laurel, New Jersey

2025-04-10T06:25:00.000-07:00

This is my Easter blog post. The photo doesn’t look very festive, does it? Bear with me and you’ll see the connection.

One of my coworkers asked me last week if I’d ever seen the Potter’s Field near Mount Laurel, New Jersey, where he lives. He stopped to take photos and showed them to me. No, as a matter of fact, I had no idea this existed. My network of cemetery-tolerant friends has expanded over the years, so I do appreciate when they go to the trouble of visiting and snapping photos of cemeteries when on vacation, or just see something they think might interest me. How else would I have seen writer Douglas Adams’ grave in London’s Highgate Cemetery, or the magnificent cemeteries of San Juan and Barcelona? With the help of my friend, Charlie, my reach has extended to Mount Laurel, New Jersey.

The photos you see are mine, which I made when I visited the site a week later. Strangely, it does not show up on Google Maps or on the Find a Grave app. Search for cemetery, graveyard, or Potters Field, and it does not appear. But there it is, on the west side of the road, clear as day. An acre of sandy high ground, bordered by trees. A bit of scrappy foliage behind it, separating the graveyard ghosts from the homes nearby. The edges of the property are marked with two four-foot-tall white wooden posts with the words “Potters Field” engraved on them. The small, engraved monument you see here sits in the center of the one-acre plot.

This Potter’s Field is on Union Mill Road in Evesboro, about a half mile north of Church Road. Its location coordinates are 39° 55.182′ N, 74° 55.428′ W, according to one of the only mentions I could find on the internet, the Historical Marker Data Base. I walked around the plot of ground, Schumann's haunting Cello Concerto in A Minor playing in my head.

The inscription on the monument states:

In 1743, John Penn deeded to Evesham Twp. this one acre of land for "strangers deceased, therein, Negro slaves, and poor...for evermore."

I have no idea when this was installed, or what its predecessor may have looked like (if there was one). I assume the townspeople got together and had the monument made (since it looks like it was probably made sometime within the past few decades), with perhaps the original words inscribed on it. What little I could find on the internet is that an elderly resident of Mount Laurel volunteers to cut the grass on the plot. I assume John Penn was a descendant of William Penn. Oddly, there appears to be nothing about this Potter’s Field that I can find on the internet, other than the citation I mentioned above. When might the last burial have occurred? And did anyone know the person's identity?

So, what is a “potter’s field, anyway?” (We're getting close to the Easter connection here....) Potters’ Fields are so named for the Bible story in which Judas, after betraying Jesus, hung himself. The priests who had paid him to betray Jesus used the money to buy a plot of ground for his burial in a field where potters extracted red clay to make ceramic pottery. Judas would not have been allowed burial in any established ground. This potter’s field was to be used for criminals, strangers, and the poor who could not afford burial elsewhere. Hence the connection to Easter. Judas betrayed Jesus, Jesus was put to death on Good Friday. Here we are with Easter just around the corner.

And so the tradition of the Potters’ Field continues through the years. People who were not allowed to be buried in sanctified, consecrated ground, people who couldn’t afford to be buried elsewhere, were, and still are - buried in potters fields. While I am fascinated by abandoned cemeteries, Potters’ Fields intrigue me, perhaps because they are often the final resting place of abandoned people.

In my book, Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs (publication date June 30, 2025), I mention that in many areas of the country, if you died a pauper, a warehoused resident of an insane asylum, or simply died when you were passing through town, you were likely buried in a Potters’ Field. Sometimes records are kept of Potters’ Field burials, e.g. is done by the Delaware State Hospital, in its Potters' Field in New Castle, Delaware. Philadelphia has no burial records for its most famous Potters’ Field, Washington Square Park. The Potters’ Field at ChesLen Preserve in West Chester, PA, while having a lovely flower garden and signage, has no record of its burials.

Washington Square Park (Seventh and Walnut Streets) in Philadelphia's historic district was originally used as a mass grave for thousands of British and American soldiers during the American Revolution, but it continued to be a strangers’ burial ground, a home for the poor and unclaimed dead, up until 1815. Established as a Potters Field by William Penn in 1706, it is unlikely that any of its thousands of burials were recorded. I doubt any records exist for those buried here in Mount Laurel. I wonder how many are interred?

So as we near Easter, lets remember all these unremembered people. They may have had terrible lives, and deaths, but least they’re at peace now. Someone remembered them and dropped an old bible in front of the stone. There are a few yellow daffodils growing in the plot, trying desperately to remind us of rebirth in this rather plain, almost desolate field - new life blooming in the springtime. Two deer watched me cautiously from the woods, thinking deer thoughts, as I roamed the site. Happy Easter everyone.

To pre-order a copy of Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs (publication date June 30, 2025), please visit any one of these sites:

https://www.amazon.com/Abandoned-Forgotten-Cemeteries-Philadelphia-Environs/dp/1634995236

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/abandoned-and-forgotten-cemeteries-of-philadelphia-and-its-environs-ed-snyder/1146630922

https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Abandoned-Forgotten-Cemeteries-Philadelphia-Its/Ed-Snyder/9781634995238

"Buried Philadelphia: The Cemeteries and Burial Grounds of the City of Brotherly Love" - Interview with the Author

2025-04-06T13:43:00.000-07:00

My friend Jenn O’Donnell has a new book out, entitled, Buried Philadelphia: The Cemeteries and Burial Grounds of the City of Brotherly Love (Fonthill Media, 2025). After purchasing a copy of the book, I had some questions! Photographing and researching cemeteries in Philadelphia has been one of my passions, so I was surprised by how much I did not know! Jenn graciously agreed to an interview. Here’s a synopsis of her book, followed by my interview. All photos are Jenn's and can be found in her book. Enjoy!

Explores the city's cemeteries, blending history, art, and recreation in forgotten burial grounds transformed into urban green spaces.

Many of Philadelphia’s oldest graveyards have been lost to time in the name of progress and expansion. The cityscape changes, the remains of the dead are moved (or not) to new locations, and new buildings are erected. Modern Philadelphia still contains dozens of burial grounds, from the tiny Colonial-era churchyards of Old City to the sprawling acreage of the once rural cemeteries fashioned after Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Unfortunately, numerous remaining cemeteries in the city are simply running out of space and as lot sales and burials dwindle, so does the money for upkeep and maintenance.

1. Welcome Jenn! Can you tell us why you wrote this book?

I’ve been interested in photography since high school when I took three years of classes learning to shoot and develop film and make prints in a darkroom. As an adult I developed an interest in cemetery photography after realizing these places are some of the most beautiful and peaceful spots around. When the publisher of the Buried America series approached me asking if I would be interested in doing a book about Philadelphia cemeteries, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity!

2. People likely think of cemeteries as stagnant, or at least staid, entities. You obviously know differently. Can you share some insight with us into what it takes to keep a cemetery from falling apart …and why it is that we should care.

I describe myself as a taphophile, someone who enjoys and appreciates cemeteries. I don’t consider myself morbid, just fascinated by the human desire to bury our loved ones in graveyards and erect varied monuments in their memory. Cemeteries are full of art and history, and are a reflection of the society in which they exist. That’s why I care, and why I think others should as well.

Mary Adele Hirst monument, Cathedral Cemetery, West Philadelphia

Many people think a cemetery is forever, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. All of them need fairly massive amounts of labor and money to keep their grounds looking nice and the gates open, so when normal revenue streams dry up and the space is filled, the cemetery needs to find alternatives to pay the bills.

Bald Cypress tree in West Oak Lane's Northwood Cemetery

3. You talk about “recreational opportunities” offered by cemeteries. Does it bother people, in your experience, when cemeteries host concerts, tours, or craft markets?

There is certainly a small, but sometimes very vocal group of people who think any activity in a cemetery that isn’t directly related to a funeral or mourning should be barred from cemeteries and there are plenty of cemeteries that do not allow recreational activities on their grounds. However, Victorian-era rural cemeteries were intended to be places where people could enjoy the grounds and sculpture, have a picnic, or otherwise relax. I find more often than not, people are intrigued by the idea of spending leisure time at their local cemetery—even more so when they realize most modern cemeteries cannot survive without the interest and support of their neighbors.

4. Your great experience volunteering in cemeteries provides us with many behind-the-scenes glimpses at these properties that most people have never thought about. For instance, you say it is a common misconception that all graves have a marker of some sort, and that Woodlands Cemetery has “grave gardeners.” Can you share with us any other behind-the-scenes cemetery stories not in your book?

In my experience, Jewish cemeteries are the most welcoming to researchers or photographers. Mikveh Israel required picking up gate keys to access the Spruce Street and Federal Street cemeteries, and they seemed excited that I was interested in including their historic properties in my book. Active cemeteries can sometimes be provincial places, but the greater-Philadelphia area’s Jewish cemeteries were so accommodating. I didn’t have time to visit the third Mikveh Israel cemetery on Market Street, but I hope to sometime soon.

5. “About the Author” says that you’ve photographed over 150,000 headstones for findagrave.com. That is a staggering number! Tell us a bit about that.

Entrance to the 1692 Hood Cemetery, Germantown

I joined findagrave.com in 2008 because I was interested in genealogy and found the website a great way to search for new information. The website is collaborative, and users from all over the world add information and take photos of graves for other people. After having some photo requests fulfilled for my own ancestors, I thought, “I can do this for other people” so I started fulfilling requests at my local cemeteries. That led to me photographing as many graves as possible when visiting a cemetery, something findagrave.com members refer to as “mowing the rows”.

6. Looking through “Buried Philadelphia,” one sees a great variety of gravemarker styles. Do you have a favorite?

My favorite marker styles are white bronze monuments (referred to as “zinkies”) or tree stump tombstones. Porcelain portraits are a close third. I find each of these styles a unique departure from a basic flat or slant marker that you see by the thousands in most cemeteries. White bronze monuments fascinate me because they are made of metal panels and are hollow. Not only have they stood the test of time, but it’s fun to knock on them and hear the reverb.

7. Being a cemetery traveler myself, I was fascinated by your photo of the silver-painted cast-iron angel grave marker on page 64. That is quite unique. May I ask where you found her?

Cast iron marker, St. Dominic Cemetery
I came across that cast-iron angel at Saint Dominic Roman Catholic Church Cemetery https://www.findagrave.com/cemetery/1973644/saint-dominic-roman-catholic-cemetery in the Holmesburg section of Northeast Philly. A lot of the monuments in this cemetery are what I would consider pretty standard looking, but there are some definite gems like this one.

8. Related to my opening remarks, I am curious what you see as the future state of Philadelphia cemeteries. What do you think these wonderful memory gardens will look like in 20 years?

I think most cemeteries, especially those in Philadelphia, are reaching a point where they are quickly running out of space for new lot sales and interments. Some have pivoted to less space intensive options like columbaria or niches for cremains, but I think all of them will face challenges as income declines. In the next 20 years, I think we will see more cemeteries facing dereliction or abandonment if they don’t come up with new ways to bring in money. Some cemeteries that are planning ahead have looked for new ways to keep their properties relevant that have nothing to do with burials such as events and programming.

Obelisks in Cathedral Cemetery, West Philadelphia

9. I’m sure there are many fascinating stories you can tell about your cemetery travels, your volunteer work, and so on. Do you have any speaking engagements scheduled, now that your book has been published? I am sure that people would like to ask you questions!

I do not have any speaking engagements scheduled that I can share, but I’m working on scheduling some with local organizations. I’ll be sure to share any confirmed dates on my Instagram account @cems_and_things.

10. Are there any other books that you are working on?

I’m working on a second book for Fonthill Media/America Through Time’s Buried America series tentatively titled, “Philadelphia’s Mount Moriah Cemetery: The Ruin and Rebirth of the City’s Largest Cemetery”. I’ve been volunteering at Mount Moriah for well over a decade and as the current board president it’s a subject I’m quite knowledgeable about. This book will hopefully hit stores sometime in 2026.

11. Would you like to leave us with any parting comments about Philadelphia’s cemeteries?

Many of Philadelphia’s cemeteries have seen better days and there are some that don’t regularly have visitors anymore. My hope is that my book sheds a little light on why these places are important to the fabric of the city and that the photos are intriguing enough that more people will become cemetery explorers.

To purchase a copy of Jenn’s book, Buried Philadelphia: The Cemeteries and Burial Grounds of the City of Brotherly Love, please visit:

https://www.amazon.com/Buried-Philadelphia-Cemeteries-Grounds-Brotherly/dp/1625451504

On behalf of the Cemetery Traveler readership, I would like to thank Jenn O’Donnell for spending some time wish us and with her great success with this and her next book!

A Hearse of a Different Color

2025-03-30T06:05:00.000-07:00

Hot on the heels of my interview with Shawn Koenig, hearse collector (last blog I posted on March 15, 2025), I thought I’d be writing about this image. Its a photograph I submitted for consideration in a curated art exhibition. The show is called “Chrome,” and is being held at Box Spring Gallery in Philadelphia.

Box Spring Gallery: “Chrome,” April 2025 Exhibition

The visual elements and design of the automobile as encountered on the street, in motion, or as imagined.

Here was my artist’s statement about the piece:

The smooth rounded curves of this ghostly antique hearse contrast with the rigid tombstones in this dream-like scene. The roof's banded chrome and the vehicle's grill serve to accent its gently arched back. However, this offers little solace as even at a glance, the viewer knows this 1947 Pontiac Superior hearse gave many their last ride. Since Victorian times, hearses have been regally designed with only a few chrome flourishes (usually the decorative "S" shaped landeau bars on their sides). This particular model is banded with an unusually aggressive chrome strip across its roof, which seems to symbolically separate the driver from the driven, the living from the dead.

I shot the image on expired 35mm film with a Nikon F3 camera – if that means anything to anyone anymore. An expired hearse in an expired graveyard shot on expired film with an expired camera. The film was Fujicolor, maybe ten years out of date (hence the reticulation, or severe graininess of the image). Here’s the original image below, which I desaturated digitally to make the monochrome version. The black and white submission was turned down.

Maybe there wasn’t enough chrome. Maybe the color version would have appealed more to the jury. Maybe the jury thought the subject matter too morbid. Maybe it did not blend well with all the other chosen entries. These would be all on the wall next to each other. Curators have an amazing ability to create a flow, a collection of work that complements each other. Perhaps the hearse just didn’t add anything to the overall body of work. Were there too many hearse submissions?

Maybe, just maybe, my photograph simply wasn’t good enough. As an artist, you need to consider such a preposterous idea. The curator is expecting to sell the artwork on display (and they always get a commission), so they need to consider the salability of the piece.

My photograph below is what they chose to be in the exhibition, a digital photograph of a non-hearse, for which I am immensely grateful. Public hangings are an experience unto themselves, especially group shows. You get to see other artists’ interpretations of the same theme and usually meet them to talk shop if there is an opening reception. Always inspirational.

I had submitted both photographs, in case the hearse was deemed inappropriate for the exhibition. And so it was. I love all these images, I love the design of both automobiles. So if you want to see my non-hearse photograph in all it’s 11x14 matted and framed glory, details for Box Spring Gallery’s opening reception at the Crane Arts Building are shown below. Crane Arts in Philadelphia’s Fishtown neighborhood is home to several galleries, all of which host opening receptions for new shows on the same night. So it’s a lot of fun - wine and cheese, crudité, me, and so on. Sometimes the patrons are as interesting to view as the art.

The 2nd Thursday Opening Reception is on April 10, 6–9 pm at Box Spring Gallery, 1400 N. American St, #100C, Philadelphia, PA 19122. The exhibition will run from April 10 – May 3, 2025.

https://boxspringgallery.com

A juried prize will be announced. Two participating artists will be selected to show their work in a July 2025 two-person exhibition at Box Spring Gallery.

If I happen to be chosen, I do have a few hearse images I will try to weasel into the exhibit!

A bit of background on my non-hearse photograph:

Who would not hit the brakes while driving up South Jersey's Black Horse Pike when presented with this scene of incomparable beauty? In 2023, a vintage 1963 Studebaker Avanti was parked in front of the vintage (defunct) Studebaker dealership in Pleasantville, New Jersey. I have always thought the Avante to be one of the most striking automotive designs ever. I'd love for you to see its subtle chrome accents against the sensual lines of its gold fiberglass body, but monochrome better expresses its aggressive and sinewy contours. Juxtaposed against the 1927 Spanish Revival stucco building, the design of this automobile appears all the more exotic. Only 2500 Avantis were made between 1962 and 1963.

Interview with the Hearse Collector

2025-03-16T10:29:00.000-07:00

We have a special treat for readers of “The Cemetery Traveler” … an interview with my friend Shawn Koenig, hearse owner, historian, collector, and exhibitor. Shawn graciously shares his journey with professional cars, including his extensive collection and involvement in the MPCC, while providing unique stories about his experiences with hearses.

Before we begin, Shawn, do you have any opening remarks?

Shawn's 1969 S&S Cadillac Kensington when it was owned by a BBQ business

Hi, I'm Shawn Koenig. I purchased my first hearse in August 2002 and my love for professional vehicles only grew from there. I still own that 1983 S&S Victoria to this day. My collection has continued to grow over the years. I travel all over the U.S. going to different events for hearses and professional vehicles. I've also done a lot of searching across PA and nearby states trying to find them sitting "in the wild" so to speak, whether it be by chance or following a lead. I do my best to show that these cars have history and craftsmanship worth preservation, but I also appreciate the spooky side of their appeal as well. Most of all, I want to keep these cars in a positive light for everyone since a lot of funeral cars and even ambulances aren't always viewed in the most appealing manner. While I like a nicely done custom coach, I do prefer mine as close to stock as possible.

1. How many hearses do you own?

I technically own 3 actual hearses. But to many who are not well versed in types of professional vehicles, several of my other cars would be viewed as hearses too. Also in my collection are a flower car, a combination coach, an ambulance and my most recent purchase - a removal van. The latter is now one of my daily driver vehicles.

Shawn's 1969 S&S Cadillac Kensington when it was in ambulance service

2. Why do you own hearses?

I wanted to get a hearse from a very young age. After getting my first, I got more into learning history and facts about professional vehicles as a whole. The more I learned, the more I wanted. So, as the opportunities arose for me to add to my collection, I did. There are many different models and types just from each coach builder. Each vehicle is individually made and can be unique unless part of a fleet. There are professional vehicles out there that are just 1 or 2 of a kind. They are among the rarest cars and I still love soaking up more information about them.

3. How did you get interested in hearses (professional cars)?

As a young child of course thought the Ecto1 from Ghostbusters and the hearse Dracula drove in the movie The Monster Squad were the best ever. When I was 8 years old, one of my brothers was just getting his license and he wanted a hearse. We went to look at one in a junkyard locally. It was a black 1959 Cadillac limo-style combination coach. I couldn't tell you who the coach builder was, at 8 I didn't exactly have the wealth of knowledge I do now. But I knew when I saw it, it was the coolest, biggest car I had ever seen and that I wanted one too. Ultimately our dad said no to my brother. When I was 20, I had the ability to buy one for myself. I still own that coach and I've been hooked on them since.

Russ Slegel with his 1947 Superior Pontiac Limo-Style Funeral Coach

4. Can you tell me your most interesting hearse story?

I'm sure I have a million little stories about having a hearse. Everything from weird stares while doing things like loading groceries in the back, horror to see a casket inside while stopping to get a bite to eat, parking lot photoshoots by strangers or cheesy comments.

But my best story, I suppose isn't really mine, but that of a great friend, Russ Slegel, who is no longer with us. Russ was an essential part of the Mohnton Professional Car Club (MPCC) becoming an official club. He helped with so much during its inception and kept things organized. Russ had a great love for Laurel Hill Cemetery [LHC][Philadelphia] and is the reason the annual MPCC is now held on these breathtaking grounds. We had a few club visits to LHC and then teamed up with them for their event "History of Hearses." It was after this that Russ helped me secure a yearly date for the annual club show. The first show in LHC was in 2012, this would have been the 4th annual show for MPCC. The show has been held here every year since, with the exception of one, when Covid forced it to be held elsewhere.

Sadly, Russ passed away in 2017 after a battle with his health. He decided that he would leave his hearse to Laurel Hill. Russ owned a 1947 Superior Pontiac Limo-Style Funeral Coach that was completely customized in a street rod style. The only thing original on it is the sheet metal. He bought it to do street rod funerals, but only ever did one. In July of 2018 we delivered his hearse to LHC. Tyler Verrecchia, current president of MPCC, did the actual towing. I led the procession which included 3 other hearses besides myself and Russ' being towed. We met an addition 3 hearses at LHC.

Russ' final wish was that he stayed with his beloved coach- so he has. Some of his cremains reside inside FYNLRYD (his coach) at Laurel Hill. His family spread some of his ashes on the cemetery grounds at the MPCC show that year, as well. You can usually see FYNLRYD out for special events like the annual MPCC show, if you want to say hello to Russ.

5. Have you ever broken down in a hearse, and had to call for roadside assistance? Get a tow? Flat tire?

Almost all of mine have seen some time on the back of a rollback for one reason or another. That's just something that comes with the territory of owning any vehicle really. Sometimes, with very cautious driving, I am able get them home, to a mechanic or to a friend's place to get the repairs completed. Other times it's just something as simple as a tire blowout or broken belt, which I can usually do myself on the spot.

6. Did you ever have a mechanic refuse to work on one of your cars?

I never had any mechanic refuse to work on them. In fact, most are very intrigued and think they are cool. Just in the last year I've had a mechanic with a local garage ask me when he was going to get to work my hearses when I stopped in at his shop for other business. He had seen them passing by often and thought they were great. I do some simple repairs and maintenance myself as well and have some really great friends who are mechanically inclined that help out when they can too.

7. I believe you once told me that ambulances performed double duty as hearses a long time ago?

Shawn Koenig's combination coach

Yes, many funeral homes used to provide ambulance services to their community and most often offered this free of charge. Certainly, a far cry from the cost of an ambulance ride today. A lot of funeral homes could not afford 2 separate vehicles to be able to offer these services to the community, so the coach builders built a dual purpose funeral car called the combination coach. The car could be used as a hearse or ambulance. It had features like a siren in the grill, demountable emergency lights, cot bar, casket rollers that flipped to roll the stretcher in and foldable jump seats for the person attending to the patient. Some had removable landau bar panels for funerals which were replaced with signs in the windows to denote ambulance use.

8. Other people obviously own hearses and regularly display them in shows (like at Laurel Hill). Are you all part of a club?

Sean Koenig

I personally started the Mohnton Professional Car Club (MPCC) in 2008. I also started the annual show held at Laurel Hill Cemetery with help from another MPCC member Russ, who got us a secured deal to hold the event there. I mentioned this previously. I was president of the MPCC until 2021 when I stepped down and took some time away. I still maintain great friendships with a lot of members and will come out in support of their events when I am able. I very much still support the club whenever I can.

I more recently started Shawn Koeing's Professional Car Club (SPCC). Yes, my last name is spelled wrong on purpose. It was started as more of a joke than anything, on a friend who seemed to think I was my own hearse club and also just couldn't seem to get my name right. It's not a very formal club and just focuses on having a few fun events throughout the year. Always accepting new members though!

I'm in two larger organizations as well, the National Hearse and Ambulance Association (NHAA) and the Professional Car Society (PCS). The latter does also have a yearly meet up which always brings out some amazing vehicles.

Abby Bart's 1981 Thacker Mercury Station wagon-based first call car/hearse

9. You obviously know a lot about hearses. Whenever I photograph one and post it on social media, you are my go-to person to identify its make, model, and year. I appreciate that. I assume all hearses are custom-made from … station wagons? Or am I incorrect?

While it might seem like most hearses are built off station wagons due to their general shape, this is not typically the case. Hearses are custom built by multiple coach builders. While some did start as station wagons, most did not. Coaches built on station wagon bodies are considered a more affordable economy version of the vehicle. They were commonly used as first call cars, as well. Cadillac and also Packard (when they were still operating) had a commercial chassis that they sent to a coach builder to build on. The commercial chassis was a longer frame with everything up to the firewall complete with the dash, front seat, tail lights and bumper in a box. Everything else is basically hand built, something that makes each coach unique, as I have already said. In most cases the bumper is cut for the license plate too. Currently, Cadillac sends an incomplete car to the coach builders for them to customize. There are so many ways professional cars were built, it's really it's own subject.

10. You post photos on social media of cemeteries you’ve visited. Can you describe your interest in cemeteries?

I find cemeteries to be so peaceful and serene. So many are truly like outdoor art galleries, showcasing phenomenal skill and artistic abilities in the creation of the final resting places for loved ones. I love looking at all the different stones and mausoleums. The meaning behind motifs, symbols and designs on stones is another great rabbit hole of information to dive into. It's a bonus to me when they say something interesting or have pictures. My fiancé is currently on the hunt for stones with recipes, so we can try them out. Cemeteries are something else that I was drawn to early in my childhood and carried through into adulthood.

Once I started visiting, I couldn't get enough and wanted to see more. I always have some sort of camera on hand to capture not only the interesting stones and mausoleums, but also little oddities and quirks, the visiting wildlife and so on. Finding and visiting cemeteries is one of my favorite pastimes. Obviously they are a great backdrop for a professional car photo shoot too.

11. You also post photos of other people’s hearses that you see at shows, or rusting behind someone’s garage. Is there a “Holy Grail” of hearses? Do you have a favorite?

I guess the "Holy Grail" for a lot of people would be any 1959 Cadillac based procar, with that large fin and bullet tail light rear. Another would be any of the carved panel coaches. I personally like 1960-61 Cadillac based hearses, specifically S&S or Eureka built models. I would be happy with any coach builder version though. A 1959-60 Flxible Buick hearse. Flxible built a majority of Buick based coaches at that time and are now out of the procar business completely. I would also like matching flower cars and family cars to go with each of my 1969 S&S models. A 1974 Miller-Meteor Cadillac Criterion is one of my favorite ambulances. I like the styling of these a lot. I have so many on my wishlist, but I am happy with what I currently own.

1959 Superior Cadillac Royale Landaulet owned by Scotty Adams

12. Do you have a 2025 schedule of appearances you’d like to share with our audience?

There are so many great hearse and professional car events, I make it to as many as I can. Some great ones are coming up this year:

Parking lot picture of Hearsemania 2024 in Mansfield, OH.

6/13/25 to 6/15/25 is Hearsemania at the S&S/Superior plant in Lima, OH. Hearsemania is always a good time, but this year is going to be something really special for professional car collectors. I'll be making the trip out.

Saturday 8/9/25 is the 17th Annual MPCC Professional Car Show at Laurel Hill Cemetery in Philadelphia, PA. This is a do not miss show. Besides the great showing of cars in a stunning cemetery, they have raffles, snacks and a scavenger hunt that is really fun. I always make sure to get to this show.

8/12/25 to 8/16/25 is the PCS International Meet in Latham, NY. This meet brings out so many great vehicles too. They plan different events and outings over the course of the week leading up to the main show day. I'll be making the trip for a few days for this one.

Saturday 8/23/25 is Rats N Reapers Hearse and Rat Rod Show in Hagerstown, MD. This is a new show this year, but I have a good feeling that it's going to be a fun time with cars, vendors, food and entertainment too. I plan on making it out.

October 2025 TBA The Hearse Show at The Haunt in Schaefferstown, PA. This will be the 4th year I'm putting this show on. Last year we had a great turnout with 22 procars. It takes place at a spooky little haunt that is completely volunteer run with all proceeds going to local fire companies and charities. I'm hoping to get a date nailed down and start promoting shortly.

Another event that needs mentioning but that I won't be able to attend this year is Hearsefest in Fowlerville, MI Saturday 9/20/2025. This event is huge and definitely a must see for anyone who has a love for hearses.

PLEASE join me in thanking Shawn Koenig for taking the time to answer my questions and to provide us all with his great stories! I met Shawn at the Oddities Bazaar Market in Adamstown, PA, in May of 2021 where he was part of that event’s hearse show. Please come to one of the events he mentions and show and his cars some love!

All photos except for the lead photo were provided by Shawn Koenig.

The Grave of Rufus Weaver

2025-03-08T10:42:00.000-08:00

Chances are you have no idea who Rufus Weaver was. Or why I spent so much time trying to locate his weed-covered headstone in Philadelphia’s Mount Vernon Cemetery. You might not even be aware of the difficulties of doing ANYTHING in Mount Vernon Cemetery. This is because for the twenty years leading up to 2020, the cemetery had been locked up tight and neglected. Trees and weeds grew rampant, there were few visitors and fewer burials. The landscape in 2018 looked like what you see in the image below. Mile-a-minute weeds encapsulate all but the highest monuments, creating natural burrows for wildlife.

In winter, weeds form cage-like enclosures around the tombstones

"Harriet"

In 2018, I attended a lecture at the Drexel University College of Medicine in Philadelphia, where I first locked eyes with Harriet Cole. Among the amazing and varied archival holdings of the institution is the world’s first dissected and preserved nervous system, “Harriet.” Created by the anatomist Rufus Weaver (1841–1936), it was displayed at the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago. More on Harriet later. For now, let’s talk about Dr. Weaver’s earlier pursuits.

Dr. Weaver is buried in Mount Vernon Cemetery, in Philadelphia. I am not sure how I found out the section he is buried in. Generally, it is a bit of a challenge finding ANY specific grave in a cemetery, no matter how accurate the plot map is, no matter how well the cemetery sections are physically marked. Mount Vernon, however, was a forsaken-by-the-owner overgrown Victorian cemetery with no access. But I gained access in 2020, determined to find his grave.

Cemetery map in Mount Vernon

I had a two-by-three foot paper map to go by, but since the place was so overgrown, I couldn’t tell where one section ended and the next began. Section markers were hidden by weeds. It took three visits to the cemetery to find Rufus. This over the course of six months – about the same amount of time it took Weaver to create Harriet in 1888. During each visit, I would hack through the ball of dried weed-webs to gain access to a particular gravemarker, usually to find that it belonged to someone else. I probably machete-hacked through nearly twenty such weedballs before I found him.

Weaver's stone covered in weeds

His is a basic stone, engraved with his and his wife Madeleine's birth and death dates. There is no indication that we was such a man of science. At right you see his stone prior to me uncovering it (when I made the photo, I wasn't sure it was his). Below, you see the stone after I cut away the weeds from its face. Click here for a link to the Instagram video of me in the act of uncovering Dr. Weaver's gravemarker.

Anatomist and Lecturer

Dr. Rufus B. Weaver, a native of Gettysburg, PA, was a professor of human anatomy at Hahnemann Medical College in Philadelphia from 1879 to 1897. Hahnemann Hospital no longer exists, by the way, and Hahnemann Medical College is now known as Drexel University College of Medicine. Weaver earned a BA degree from Pennsylvania College in 1862 and graduated with a degree in medicine from Pennsylvania Medical College in 1865. In 1869, he became involved in a gruesome project begun by his father – repatriating thousands of Confederate dead from their Gettysburg battlefield graves to their southern states of origin, which you will read about below. At Hanemann Medical College he was appointed Demonstrator and Lecturer of Anatomy in 1879 and went on to become chairman of the Department of Practical Anatomy in 1897.

Archival photo at Drexel University College of Medicine in Philadelphia

“Whenever a grave was opened…”

One of the projects Rufus was involved with was begun by his father. After the Civil War ended, the elder Weaver was contracted by South Carolina’s Ladies' Memorial Association to move the bodies of thousands of Confederate soldiers from their burial places in the north to Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, VA. He died before completing the project. Rufus took over, even at great personal expense. I became aware of all this during a visit to Hollywood Cemetery in 2021. It was there that I saw the bronze commemorative marker shown below, laid flat in the ground in the Confederate dead section. I photographed it at the time, and wanted to transcribe all the text here, for you, but then ….

Who knew there was such a thing as the “Historical Marker Data Base?” Certainly not me. I searched online for a transcription of the marker, so I could just copy/paste and not have to type all that text. Not only did I find the transcription of the plaque’s wording here but also a photo of the same memorial plaque – this one standing in Gettysburg, PA!

"Rufus Benjamin Weaver, a native of Gettysburg, was a college student at the time of the battle in 1863. His father Samuel Weaver, a local photographer, supervised the collection and reburial of the Federal troops in the National Cemetery. Because of Samuel Weaver's experience and the fact that he and Dr. J.W.C. O'Neal had mapped all the known Confederate gravesites on the Gettysburg Battlefield, a number of Southern ladies memorial associations turned to him for help in returning the remains of fallen Confederate soldiers to the South. Unfortunately in 1869, before he could begin the hard work of disinterring and shipping the remains of Confederate soldiers, Samuel Weaver was killed in a railroad accident. The Southern ladies memorial associations then turned to his son to complete the task.

In 1871, now a doctor of anatomy, Dr. Rufus Benjamin Weaver took on the difficult job of exhuming, collecting, boxing, and shipping the remains of Confederate soldiers. Whenever a grave was opened, Dr. Weaver was present to ensure that all remains possible were recovered. Dr. Weaver was supposed to be paid the agreed price of $3.25 for each body he was able to recover, however the Southern ladies memorial associations were unable to pay more than 50% of what he was actually owed. Despite this fact, Dr. Weaver continued the noble work of repatriating the remains of 3,320 Confederate soldiers to the South. The majority of the remains, 2,935, went to Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, VA. The remainder were dispersed between Raleigh, NC, Charleston, SC, Savannah, GA, and a few to other locations.

In grateful appreciation, Freeman's Battery Forrest's Artillery, Camp 1939 Sons of Confederate Veterans, acknowledges a debt of honor owed by all Southerners, and in appreciation of the generosity and humanity of his deeds, erects this marker to Dr. Rufus B. Weaver."

Rufus Weaver's gravemarker in Mount Vernon Cemetery

One would expect more than a modest tombstone to be erected to this man, who performed such a humanitarian and herculean task. One would also expect it not to be lost to history, lost in a neglected cemetery. The dried mile-a-minute weeds were stiff and strong enshrouding every headstone in the section of Mount Vernon where Weaver is buried. It was winter when I labored to locate his stone, so at least there were no leaves to hide what was beneath. You would think this would have been an advantage, but the dried weed cages were so thick, you could not see the headstone or monument through it. I had never seen a photograph of his stone, or monument, so I hacked through weed cages of various sizes in the area where I suspected it was located.

I finally found the stone during my third trip to Mount Vernon and cleared the weeds from it on March 18, 2020. One can only hope that his grave secures a prominent place on the cemetery tours conducted by the Friends of Mount Vernon Cemetery.

Weaver's stone askew on its base

In May of 2020, The Friends of Mount Moriah Cemetery, Inc. (of which I am a volunteer Board member) spent a day clearing the Drew and Barrymore plot near Rufus’ stone. Since I had last been to Mount Vernon two months prior, Rufus’ stone had become shifted off its base, likely knocked askew by heavy equipment that had been used to clear trees and brush. The stone was not damaged so the Friends volunteers reset it squarely back onto its base.

Repositioning Dr. Weaver's headstone, May, 2020

Nervous System – The Dissection of Harriet Cole

According to ScienceDirect.com:

About seventeen years after his grave repatriation work in Gettysburg, Weaver began work on the pièce de résistance of his anatomy career, his dissection of the entire cerebrospinal system. Weaver named the dissection “Harriet” after Harriet Cole, an African-American scrubwoman who worked in the anatomy lab at Hahnemann Medical College where Weaver instructed. "Harriet, who suffered from tuberculosis, donated her body to science just before her death in 1888 at the age of 35.”

It is interesting wording, “donated her body to science.” This would imply her conscious decision to do so. The literature actually states:

“At the time of Harriet Cole's death in 1888, laws set forth by the Pennsylvania State Anatomical Board and the Anatomy Act of 1883 governed unclaimed human remains. In accordance with these laws, unclaimed persons at PGH [Philadelphia General Hospital] were transferred to area schools for "the advancement of medical science."

"Harriet" dissection at Drexel University College of Medicine in Philadelphia

People generally do not know that the cadavers used in medical schools in the late 1800s were procured in this manner. Grave-robbing, body-snatching “resurrectionists” were no longer needed. So “unclaimed” people in effect “donated” their bodies to science. The records show that Harriet died and her body went unclaimed. Therefore, it became available for medical study. That may be how Weaver acquired it. As a result, Harriet’s is the first complete human nervous system ever dissected and preserved for study. As such, she has become famous in anatomical textbooks throughout the world.

The hundreds of Harriet’s hand-preserved and painted nerves reminded me of the complex, seemingly randomly-growing weeds that imprisoned Weaver’s stone – almost like the individual axons and dendrites of Harriet’s nervous system. Why was I driven to find and free his grave marker? Weaver needs to be more widely appreciated as his accomplishments furthered the scientific study of the human body. Now that Mount Vernon Cemetery in Philadelphia has its own Friends group caring for the cemetery, Weaver’s grave can become part of the historic tours conducted on the property. For access to Weaver’s and other gravesites at Mount Vernon Cemetery, please visit the Instagram and Facebook pages of “The Friends of Mount Vernon Cemetery.” Cleanup and tour dates are frequently announced.

References and MUCH Further Reading:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2214854X17300250

https://drexel.edu/legacy-center/the-collections/historical-human-remains/harrietcole-details/

https://www.hmdb.org/m.asp?m=77608

Skull Art and Other Transgressive Behavior

2025-02-18T17:03:00.000-08:00

One frigid morning in January, I headed out to my local cemetery to do some photography. There was snow and ice all over the place, so why would I not head out to my local cemetery to do some photography. In fact, weeks later an ice storm was forecast for the following day and my brother told me to be careful - I told him I was prepared: I knew which cemetery I was going to visit.

On this particular January day, I was rather careful each time I stepped out of the car, cautious with each step. Last year, I slipped on the ice in a cemetery and tore my rotator cuff. Took eight months for that to heal. Had my hip replaced at the end of April 2024, so I really did not want to break any more body parts. Still, I am always looking for a new place to spend the rest of my sins.

I did not want to slip, fall, and crack my skull. Actually, either of my skulls. Today was BYO Skull Day at the cemetery, and I had two of my largest with me. One might be a quondam deer, the other a pit bull. Of the roughly ten skulls I own, all but one was found in an abandoned cemetery. The largest, an antlered deer, I severed from its spinal column with an ice chopper (in an abandoned cemetery). Yes, I know, you have questions. Really wasn’t as dramatic as it sounds – most of the flesh had been either eaten away or rotted off the bones by the time I got to it. Most of the other skulls were picked clean and bleached white by the sun by the time I found them. Takes forever for that to happen. It intrigues me that people go to such extremes to strip flesh from bones.

Assuming I haven’t lost you by this point or severely grossed you out, lets get to the photography part. I was hoping there would be snow on the statues but there was very little. Still, the snow on the ground lent a stark, uncluttered backwash for the photography I’d planned. Well, “planned” is a strong word. Planned in the sense that I brought my skulls and some cameras. I began by looking for skull settings, i.e. statues of appropriate scale to maybe hold one of the skulls. That’s a photo of St. Lucy above holding a skull as opposed to holding her own disembodied eyeballs (look that up, I’ll wait…… I think my image is actually less bizarre than what the statue is really meant to portray.)

For what I was doing in this cemetery today I wished I could have visualized the end product or at least recognized what step I was at in the process. Pursuing a new artistic endeavor like this is like brushing your teeth with your less dominant hand. Awkward. But you know, nothing great ever came from people who operated solely in their comfort zone. My friend Jason calls this “leaning into your limitations.”

Physically, being there that day was far from comfortable. It was almost too cold to think. Temperature was about twenty degrees Fahrenheit and even though I was wearing long underwear and had chemical warming pouches in my shoes and gloves, my fingers got cold, red, and numb on many occasions. I had to repeatedly jump back into the running SUV and blast hot air out the dashboard vents onto my numb fingers.

I would drive to a statue, decide whether it was skull-worthy, then perhaps spend twenty minutes staging a photo. On two occasions, police cruisers drove by. I assume they just figured I was some photography nut photographing statues. And of course they would be right. I kept the skull of the moment close to my chest so they wouldn’t see it as they drove by. I assume, I hope, they would’ve stopped to question me if they thought any skullduggery was afoot.

Maybe I’m channeling my inner Joel-Peter Witkin with all this, but I’m sure Witkin did all his startling, grotesque, and macabre body parts-photography in a fancy studio, with assistants - not outdoors in below-freezing winter. Maybe we’re searching for a similar grail here, I don’t know. The process of arranging skulls on cemetery statues got me thinking about Witkin’s process, what he may have been thinking or planning. The viewer typically only sees the final product.

But art “is an event in itself, something that comes into being,” says Karl Ove Knausgaard, in his New Yorker (Feb. 3, 2005) article, Private Eye. The piece is about how a particular artist creates presence in her painted portraits. Without a doubt, a Witkin still life, or one of my images here clearly imply presence of the artist in the creation of the piece. What I’ve done should elicit a different reaction from the viewer, different from the viewer seeing a simple photograph of a gravestone. The viewer certainly can feel my “presence” in these images.

As with any still life, the material world is supposed to suggest something else. If Witkin’s and my photographs seem about as joyous as the Doomsday Clock to you, consider this other skull fun: see how artist Filip Hodas creates “cartoon fossils.” There are in fact, people even more deviant than I. Visit this website to see his lovely work!

Glenn Hendler asks in his book, Diamond Dogs, is there any way to ‘use’ a medium without being at the same time ‘in’ it? He wrote this about the David Bowie album of that name. He describes Bowie’s music on this album as having “randomness balanced with an assertion of control.” I think that might be an honest description of my own photographs. Like Bowie as he was writing these songs, I think I’m trying to stimulate my own imagination. Maybe what you see here is merely a step in a much longer process, rather than a final product. I’m not a U2 fan, but I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

Staged still lifes can be beautiful, but random beauty can be startling. A week after my photo shoot at this cemetery, I visited another snow-covered one, where I saw the most beautiful red fox break the stillness of the snowscape with its gentle trotting. It was so fluid and graceful as it padded through the snow between the tombstones, it seemed random, but for the fox, it was probably the same path it took every afternoon. The fox trotted up the small hill toward a mausoleum. It turned around, looked at me, and flopped down in the sun alongside the mausoleum. Seemingly random nature can be more beautiful than anything a human can create.

It made me feel better about my progress, transgressive as my behavior may be. As Douglas Adams said in his novel, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”

For reference and further examination:

Joel-Peter Witkin | Artnet

Karl Ove Knausgaard Latest Articles | The New Yorker

A 3D Artist Imagines the Realistic Fossilized Skulls of Endearing Cartoon Characters — Colossal

Post-COVID Death Photography

2025-01-29T07:22:00.000-08:00

Scary. Biblical fear. I felt it when I left the theater after seeing the fifth Hunger Games movie, “Spiders and Snakes.” I was headed for the bathroom and this rush of humanity was coming at me as people were exiting the other indoor movie theaters. Strangers all around me, tributes – and I feared any one of them would come at me with a trident. Fear is situational. Like the first time I visited the Mutter Museum in Philadelphia. After seeing so many parts of dead bodies, I was startled on the bus ride home whenever one of the passengers moved. And I couldn’t eat sausage for a month. COVID was less scary than either of those situations. Deadlier, but less scary.

Recently I had to think about the art I’ve created since COVID, in the four years since 2020. Why? Well, this group I belong to, The Philadelphia Photo League (est. 2012) is putting together an exhibition and a book of work (a “Members Journal”) to showcase what we’ve done, what we’ve created in the past four years:

“Your images contribute to a powerful narrative of creativity and resilience, reflecting the transformative years from 2020 to 2024. We’re honored to have you as part of this celebration of photographic artistry and storytelling.” - The Photo League

In addition to choosing five of my photographs that are representative of my past four years’ worth of photography, I put together an under-100-word bio. Basically, that amounted to one sentence for each of the five images. I naturally had more to say - hence, this blog post! The five images you see in this article are the five I submitted for the League project. The exhibition of the members’ work will occur in a Philadelphia-area gallery sometime in the spring of 2025. This was a good exercise to gather my thoughts regarding what I’ve done and what I might do in the future. What you’ll notice (surprise, surprise) is that all my artwork has to do with death. Scary stuff to the unsuspecting, perhaps.

The first image that you see above, “COVID Death,” is a digitally-manipulated photograph of an physically manipulated scene in a cemetery. I brought the skull. Remember social distancing during the winter/spring of 2020? People were advised against indoor gatherings, even with extended family members. Many people much more normal than I took to cemeteries as a place to go. It was one of the few safe havens to spend time - you could be there with family and friends, you were outdoors, and all the strangers observed the six-foot social distance rule – they were six feet under.

I took many of my skulls (like guitars, you never admit how many you actually own) into the basement during lockdown and photographed some still lifes (is it lives?). But there's a limit to how creative you can get in your basement. So I took them to cemeteries and created images like the one you see above. I even loaned my skulls to a photographer friend of mine to do similar work. Funny, no one ever had any issue with me playing with skulls in a graveyard, but masks are another thing altogether. Remember how polarizing they were? "You have no right to make me wear a mask," and all that? (Obviously the anti-maskers never thought about why surgeons and dental hygienists wear masks…). Anyway, the social media audience went ballistic when I published photos of masks on cemetery statues. Puzzling, but hey, art is what you can get away with, as Andy Warhol said.

Another COVID-sprung idea I had was to get people who only knew each other through social media, together physically, to tour some local cemeteries. Actual reality is much preferable to virtual reality, I’ve always thought. In the spring of 2020, when everything was going sideways, I wanted to merge social media with actual human interaction. People were missing that. I invited local Instagram cemetery photographers who only knew each other through that platform, to one cemetery to meet, trade stories, learn from each other. About eight people met at Mount Moriah Cemetery in Philadelphia. My friend Jenn (@cems_and_things) organized a meetup group on Instagram so we could communicate better. She invited others.

That first meetup was so wonderful that we all agreed to continue meeting in cemeteries, making photographs, and enjoying each other’s company. This has been going on for four years now. The photo you see above was made in December 2024, in Riverview Cemetery, Trenton, New Jersey. We do a group photo every time we meet. Membership has expanded to about twenty people and we average about eight people per meetup. We try to do this every few months. Wonderful friendships have developed and I must say, this has been a great catalyst for my creativity!

“No Indoor Gatherings During COVID Pandemic”

“No Indoor Gatherings During COVID Pandemic” is a photo I made in February of 2021 during a COVID surge where there was lockdown and no indoor gatherings. After a snowfall in Philadelphia, I photographed this temporarily closed church in Bridgeport, PA. I think it speaks volumes about our social situation at that time, when virtual meetings via the internet were becoming the norm and physical meetings were abruptly stopped – this included gatherings in places of worship. To this day, virtual meetings have replaced a percentage of physical meetings, sometimes for our benefit (efficiency), sometimes to our detriment. In certain situations, virtual meetings cannot replace physical meetings – dating comes to mind.

“Gardel Monument.” Mount Vernon Cemetery, Philadelphia

“Gardel Monument” is an image I made in Mount Vernon Cemetery, Philadelphia, in February 2022. It is one of the most interesting monuments in any Philadelphia cemetery, but few people have ever seen it. Why? Well, Mount Vernon has been closed to the public for decades. Its grand entrance stands at the intersection of Ridge and Lehigh Avenues, directly across from Laurel Hill Cemetery. Many people think it is an extension of Laurel Hill, but it is not. It is derelict and had not been maintained.

Abandoned cemeteries have always piqued my curiosity, and I have photographed, researched, and lectured about them over the years. My virtual lectures on the destruction of Philadelphia’s Monument Cemetery (est. 1837, destroyed 1956) were popular during COVID, when podcasts and virtual gatherings became the norm. Abandoned cemeteries loomed large in my four-year odyssey. I was approached to write a book on the topic in 2023, and completed it in 2024. Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs will be published in 2025 by Fonthill Media.

I researched many other cemeteries for the book, some that were saved like Mount Vernon, some that were not so lucky. The book also covers cemeteries that have disappeared – either moved or simply built over. I met many interesting people and dragged some friends into the fray as I visited (and revisited) many of these sites as I conducted my research.

While it was never legally abandoned, Mount Vernon Cemetery was locked up and left to ruin from around 2000 to 2020. Nature grew and wreaked havoc, endangering monuments and statuary while thieves stole bronze doors from its mausoleums. It was derelict to the degree that in the past, it might have been levelled and a strip mall built over it. In 2020, a Friends group and a conservation group stepped in to stabilize the cemetery and its buildings, essentially pulling it back from the brink of destruction (and pulling it away from its former owner). It is quite the cosseted property at this point.

"Snow Flower"

Lastly, the photo you see here, “Snow Flower,” was in two art exhibitions in 2024. First in a group show sponsored by the Montgomery County Guild of Professional Artists at 431 Gallery, King of Prussia, PA, and later in the year in a two-artist exhibit at Box Spring Gallery in Philadelphia. In the latter show, entitled, “Ghosts,” I had nine snow-related cemetery images on display. I’ve slowly begun to get back into public display of my photography, with gallery shows and events like the annual “Market of the Macabre” at Philadelphia’s Laurel Hill Cemetery.

To summarize, I’ve been fairly active, artistically, since COVID. Physically, not so much. The pandemic stifled a lot of things in the world, but it did invigorate my creativity. I hit 64 years of age in 2022 and health-wise, the wheels began to fall off. George Harrison was quite prescient in the Beatles’ song, When I’m Sixty-Four. In February 2024 I fell on the ice in a cemetery and tore a rotator cuff. That April, I got a hip replacement. So while I’m still active artistically, my days of jumping off walls into abandoned cemeteries are over. But for all you youngsters out there reading this, please jump off as many walls into abandoned cemeteries as you can. And as they say in the Hunger Games, may the odds be forever in your favor.

The Scattering

2025-01-15T17:02:00.000-08:00

This blog post was guest written by my friend George Hofmann. George writes the newsletter "Practicing Mental Illness."

Down the hill just out of reach beyond a black, cast-iron fence still lays a cigarette, dusty, flicked without thought or respect into a pile of ashes, as if someone chain smoked pack after pack and tossed all thoughts of the past onto the heap. Although it has become the same color as the grey fanning over it and out across the hill it stands out, like nagging thoughts of things you should have done that you can’t push away. Guilt over someone else’s carelessness. That one thing you’ll never escape. All that remains among the remains. This is where ghosts come from.

The cemetery is such a well-ordered space that something out of place just glares at you as it breaks the peace, the silence, of the columns of dead. One after another, immobile, but drawing us back into a timeless past upon which we write the history and we choose what to inscribe on the granite that lasts longer than that history, till a time comes when no one cares anymore, and the earth takes it all back.

The scattering garden is different. It sits upon a hill that would overlook the graveyard, but a circle of trees conceals it. Evergreens, so the place is always shaded and always tucked away. There are two tables of granite off to the side, crowded with the names and dates of those scattered there. A third will be added soon, so many lives have ended and rested on that slope. Birds sing in the trees unseen, and the sound of traffic from somewhere off to the left is overtaken by the wind that makes the trees sway, but does not lift any ashes from the ground. Like the lives lived the ashes scattered here are not unform, at least not up close. But the black iron rail keeps you away, and it all looks the same, except for the time when the bag is held and the arms outstretch and empty all that is left onto the charnel on the hill.

Some would say this is just throwing the dead away. It’s not a remembered place like the ocean or a hiking trail or off the last row of the stadium of a favorite sports team. It’s contrived. It’s a built garden reserved for disposal, but with a bit more dignity and a place to come and visit and reflect. A beautiful place. The flowers and shrubs, the trees and the ribbon of sky that peaks through, and yes, the heaps of cremated remains that dive off deeply onto a patch of exposed earth where grass no longer grows.

Others would say here we don’t throw away the dead at all. Instead, we release them into consciousness where all are joined indistinguishable from one another, in the image of some unnamed god, sent back into the fabric from which we all came. This is a sharp contrast to the rest of the cemetery, with its insistent distinction of one plot from another, standing out alone with markers to prove it, and no doubt of who lies there. The scattering garden is a common grave for people secure with being common people. The ashes merge together with the souls risen and the memories swirl and while the culture may scream “me!” the dead know better. The dead are all one. It is the living that makes each stand out.

The living come in groups to the scattering garden. One is chosen, usually the groundskeeper, to open the urn and empty the bag inside. Overt religious services are rare here, but words are always spoken. Most people think they are more profound, more notable, than they truly are. But in these small groups they are notable indeed. Whereas, like the ash, we all kind of blend together into some secure irrelevance to the broader world, to these groups of loved ones, right up to the point of release, we are spectacular. Today, in the bitter cold, a widower stood with his collar raised and his eyes tearing as he leaned into the wind. His wife did routine work but in new, unusual, sometimes remarkable ways. He spoke of an early mentor who saw the way she did things and said, “you can’t do that. It’s not normal.” He said of his wife, “but she was not normal. She was better than that.”

The groundskeeper held the bag just above the lip of the hill and poured out the remains gently, so that none would take to the air and cling to the widower’s long coat. Tonight, at home, his wife does cling to him. As does a flake or two of ash just beside the left lapel of his coat. By instinct he raises his arm to brush it away, and then realizes what he is doing and stops. He sits on the bed, falls over, and sleeps in the coat. In the morning he rises, first thought of his wife. On the way to make coffee, as he always did for her, he stops in front of the mirror in the hall. His coat is disheveled and the ash is gone.

As the sun rises the groundskeeper scales the fence and moves across the hill of the scattering garden with a rake. The little piles are evened out and a bit of dirt is mixed in to keep it all down. Midday there’ll be another family. The groundskeeper notices the cigarette and moves to rake it under, then stops. He picks it up and puts it in his pocket to take very far from here. We will be judged by the way we treat our dead and the places we leave them. What we learn from them, and how we bring them back.

Some Cemeteries of Trenton, New Jersey

2025-01-10T16:16:00.000-08:00

Okay, so when you think of interesting cemeteries to explore, Trenton, New Jersey may not immediately (or ever) come to mind. However, your opinion may change. For our 2024 end-of-the-year meetup, the cemetery photography group I hang with decided on Trenton. It was a midway spot between Philadelphia and north Jersey (the general areas where most of us live), so about ten of us agreed to meet at Riverview Cemetery in Trenton, then continue on to the chain-link graveyard cluster in Hamilton, ending with the State Prison cemetery (whatever that is). All of a sudden, you’re interested, right?

It was a cold morning in December, with rain forecast the following day. Hopefully the rain gods would take pity on us and delay the downpours. I got to Trenton a bit early and was dismayed to find Riverview’s gates closed. I’d been here before – it is a wonderful, sprawling Victorian garden cemetery, full of unique statuary, grand monuments, interesting epitaphs, and the mausoleum of John Taylor, the creator and founder of Taylor Ham!

You may not realize this, but from Trenton north in the Garden State, this breakfast meat is known as Taylor Ham. South of Trenton, it is merely pork roll. Mick Jagger famously told the audience at a Rolling Stones concert in August, 2019 at the MetLife Stadium that “he and his band mates grabbed Taylor ham sandwiches at the Tick Tock Diner on Route 3 in Clifton earlier that day.” Clifton, New Jersey is near the MetLife Stadium, in East Rutherford, where the Stones were playing.

Word of Jagger's comments spread like wildfire and so fans would go to the Tick Tock and order “the Mick Jagger special” – Taylor ham, egg and cheese with disco fries.” I think if I ordered one at the diner for breakfast, I’d want the Stones’ song “Start Me Up” blasting from the sound system! However, this morning I had to content myself with a Wake-Up wrap at the Dunkin Donuts in Trenton, near Riverview, while I killed time waiting to see if the gates would be opened at ten. I sat in the parking lot munching away, watching the panhandler at the corner go from car to car. He was a largish guy, dressed all in white, looking like either Elvis or porn actor Ron Jeremy.

I drove over to St. John's Cemetery down the road from Riverview, and shot the zinc Jesus, then thought there might be another entrance to Riverview. Found that and it was closed too. I texted my graver pals to apprise them of the gate situation and was promptly told about the third entrance, which was open. Three of my friends were already there. How I ever get into these places on my own is puzzling, lol.

This grave marker bears the inscription, "Nevermore."

The light snow on the ground lent a nice contrast to the landscape, and did not totally cover up the chicken eggs laying about. Offerings, of some sort. The group fragmented and visited some familiar spots, like the “Nevermore” door and the receiving vault. I wanted to shoot a short video in John Taylor’s plot, since the poison ivy around its low fence had been cut away. As I approached it, I realized I had forgotten my empty box from Taylor Ham! As I said this, my friend Phil, who was walking with me, said, “You can borrow mine,” as he pulled a neatly folded box from his coat pocket! Cemetery nerds, aren’t we hysterical?

You can see my video at this Instagram link on my @mourningarts page. And while you’re there, check out this awesome “Long Live John Taylor” page!

Not the first time I've seen the word "cemetery" misspelled!

After about two hours at Riverview and our standard group photo shoot (that's us in the first photo of this piece, with me in the orange cap) we jumped into our respective vehicles and headed off to the Hamilton cluster, as one of our group members has dubbed it. I’d been there once before, but it did not seem all that interesting. Just shows to go you - hang out with other artists and you see things you normally might not. And that happened to me today - note one of the many cemetery signs in the cluster (above).

The cluster is near Hamilton, NJ, but might actually be in East Trenton. It’s not unusual to see a couple of cemeteries next to each other, separated by fencing. What is unusual about the Hamilton cluster is that there are so many separate cemeteries in this one area that it is difficult to even count them! Maybe ten? Fifteen? Not sure. Acres and acres of Christian and Jewish burial grounds, side by side. St. Mary’s, Our Lady of Lourdes, People of Truth Hebrew Cemetery, Congregation Brothers of Israel, Knights of Pythias (I think its cool that there’s a fraternal organization based on math – this group follows the philosophy of Pythagoras, he of the Pythagorean Theorem that you learned in high school. The Masons are based on math as well, come to think of it….)

Anyway, you didn’t actually need to read the cemetery signs to know which ones were Christian and which were Jewish at this time of year. All the Christian cemeteries had Christmas decorations on many of the graves. The Jewish cemeteries did not.

The cluster is all on level ground, and each cemetery is bordered with four-foot-high chain link fence. It very much reminded me of the cluster of cemeteries in Old San Antonio, Texas, where there are 31 cemeteries across 103 contiguous acres! (read about that visit here). Very much the same layout. Efficient use of space, but not very picturesque. Zero landscaping, no arboretums, these are “lawn” cemeteries, as opposed to the more picturesque Victorian sculpture garden cemeteries. Beginning in the mid-1800s along with the American rural (Victorian) cemetery movement, there was also an effort to establish more modest cemeteries which were basic, more frugal places to bury loved ones. Hence, what came to be known as a "lawn" cemetery - almost uniform grave markers in neat rows, with little ornamentation. You can read more about lawn cemeteries here.

The only things that make such a cemetery interesting, or would call attention to any specific grave, are the occasional unique monuments and other memories that punctuate the gravescape here and there. Note the bottle of booze (I hope that's booze) left with a few roses at a gravesite.

The American Institute of Commemorative Art opines that:

“Sculpture should be used only when it is true art, such as we see in the famed cemeteries of Europe. The dignity of all too many American cemeteries is spoiled by the use of commercial statuary such as no trained memorialist would tolerate.”

A bit highfalutin, those words. Certainly, anyone who wants an angel statue on their grave would prefer a hand-sculpted marble piece, versus a factory-cut angel bought at a roadside memorial business. But not everyone has the money for that. So we tend to see a mix of statuary and monuments of varying quality and design, spanning generations - some new, some aged, produced by various carvers. One thing is certain - someone wanted to mark that grave and this is the best they could do. A bronze Jesus plaque set into a home-cast concrete stone may have more character that a weeping marble angel bought from a roadside stone vendor.

The light snow on the grass gave the grounds a bit more character, but the chain link fencing was rather annoying. Most people are visiting a specific grave in a specific cemetery here, so they can just drive around the border of the cemetery, look for the gate, park and walk in. But if you’re there to visit many of the cemeteries, it is tiresome to have to walk a block to the entrance to the next cemetery to get in. The fence is only four feet high, but that’s still a bit much for most people to jump over. When I was in San Antonio, the fencing presented quite a hardship. Not only were there 31 (!) cemeteries all separated by chain-link fence, but that fence was even higher, and it was close to a hundred degrees the day I visited! So, the effort required to walk a block (or more) in the blazing sun just to get to the next gate was exhausting. (You can read more about that visit here.)

Of the cluster cemeteries, Our Lady of Lourdes Cemetery was the most replete with interesting statuary, if that draws you. This is the half of the cemetery north of East Brown Street. The southern half includes the numbered graves of either the New Jersey State Prison or State Hospital burials, not sure which. These are uniform concrete markers in a small plot within the cemetery. There is a bit more landscaping at Lourdes than in any of the other cluster cemeteries. More trees, a columbarium, an interesting angel-flanked family memorial. It is also the largest cemetery in this cluster. There is a sign at the entrance stating that it is “consecrated ground” (i.e., ground that is blessed and made sacred via some religious ceremony).

New Jersey State Prison graves, Our Lady of Lourdes Cemetery, Trenton

The angel-flanked memorial seen above is unusual. Down the road from here is a columbarium, a building to house cremains within individual niches. One of our group said it smelled funny in there. Can't imagine why.

Xmas tree and creche inside the columbarium

Concrete Jesus on a stainless steel cross

Our group fractioned off then rejoined several times, based on our varied interests. Eventually, we all went for a late lunch at a Thai restaurant, traded stories, then went our separate ways. I was done graving for the day, so I went home. With an hour of daylight left, others hit the local pet cemetery and the Presbyterian Church graveyard heading toward Princeton. Hanging with these people is always enjoyable, respectful, educational, and so much better than just appreciating their work on social media. All in all, a grand day out.

So, if you do venture to the Trenton area in search of interesting cemeteries, you will not be disappointed. As I learned, even basic lawn cemeteries offer interesting memories of lives spent, lives that are no more. The dog tags on the urn of cremains stopped me in my tracks.

For your reference and further reading:

https://patch.com/new-jersey/fairlawn-saddlebrook/mick-jagger-waffles-pork-roll-taylor-ham-debate-report

https://www.instagram.com/p/DEM0cBgRPp4/

https://www.instagram.com/longlivejohntaylor/

https://thecemeterytraveler.blogspot.com/2022/07/all-city-cemeteries-of-san-antonio-in.html

http://www.deathreference.com/Ke-Ma/Lawn-Garden-Cemeteries.html

https://www.monuments-aica.com/

Shootout at the Christmas Village

2024-12-21T10:04:00.000-08:00

You would think that Christmas trees in cemeteries would be a depressing sight. Well, compared to other goings on about town this season, a decorated Christmas tree on a grave seems like a breath of fresh air.

“Shootout at the Christmas Village” would sound funnier if it wasn’t true. Unfortunately, there really was a shooting in the crowded Christmas Village across from Philadelphia’s City Hall two weeks before Christmas this year. A fourteen-year-old boy is in critical condition, shot in the face. Two other boys, fifteen and fourteen, shot in the calf and leg. Two fourteen-year-old male suspects were taken into custody. Seems this was a fight that escalated to gunfire. Festive, right? So, if you plan on taking in some ice skating at the holiday rink at Dilworth Plaza this year, consider wearing a Kevlar jacket instead of that fashionable down vest.

Happy Christmas, everyone. That same weekend, two dozen people were shot and four died in a series of eleven shootings from Center City to Germantown to Northeast Philadelphia. The mayor went on the news saying this was a one-off, and despite it being a particularly violent weekend, Philadelphia really is safe.

Fast forward to the morning of December 17, when I picked up a package from my neighbor’s doorstep. Porch pirates steal packages in my neighborhood. Neighbors look out for each other and grab boxes and envelopes from each other’s front steps before thieves can get them. We text each other to let the recipient know their package is safe. After I texted my neighbors, they thanked me and said when they came home the previous night, they found someone’s Christmas gifts ripped open on their front steps. Children’s books and a game in a torn open box from an address several blocks away. Children’s books and games have little or no street value.

So just when it all seemed too much to bear - no más, por favor, as the Spanish say - I heard on the radio (B101), a caller describing an “angel tree.” The radio station invited people to call in and describe their Christmas trees. In the mix of callers describing bright, gaudy, vintage, and all other type trees, one woman said her mother used to keep an “angel tree.” This was a smaller tree in the living room alongside the regular, full-sized decorated tree. The angel tree had an ornament for each family member who had died.

What a way to honor and remember! I assume each angel ornament bore the name of the deceased. Any new angels were added for people who had died in the year just passed. A lovely way to honor and to CONTINUE to remember their loved ones! I’ve already put myself in a better mood and forgotten about the shootout at the Christmas Village.

Why do Christmas trees stir up memories? And why a tree, anyway? Why not a hay bale or a life-sized Jesus cutout? I recently heard that chopping down a tree and setting it back up in your living room symbolizes Christ being raised from the dead. Real or artificial, the tree tends to bring back memories of Christmas past, and people past. This may be partly why people set up Christmas trees in cemeteries, and even have Christmas trees engraved on their headstones!

Buy on ETSY

In those cemeteries that allow Christmas trees at gravesites, I am always intrigued that people go to so much trouble to set them up. Some are six feet high and some even have solar-powered lights. Usually they have ornaments, typical shiny balls or maybe photos of the deceased with their family. Some are small and more manageable. John Waters, the film maker, famously sets up a decorated Christmas tree at the actor Divine’s grave every Christmas (Prospect Hill Cemetery, Towson, Maryland) - simply because his friend enjoyed Christmas so much when he was alive. If you want to join in that celebration, you can always top your tree with a Divine Christmas tree topper, as shown here. Unless you’re an atheist. Atheists have no holidays.

So while it is easy to be pessimistic about Christmas when there’s a shootout at the Christmas Village and thieves are ripping apart your Christmas presents, a Christmas tree in a cemetery can provide hope, or at least a distraction. Maybe setting up a small angel tree to memorialize the departed would make perfect sense at this time in your life.

And if you’re lucky enough to be near a cemetery that stays unlocked at night, drive toward that light in the distance – it may be an illuminated Christmas tree. Like violence, Christmas and cemeteries will always be with us. Maybe they balance each other out. As Emerson, Lake, and Palmer sang in their song, Karn Evil 9:

“Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends, we’re so glad you could attend, come inside, come inside.”

References and Further Reading:

https://www.fox29.com/news/christmas-village-shooting-dilworth-plaza

https://www.cbsnews.com/philadelphia/news/philadelphia-gun-violence-mayor-cherelle-parker/

Cemeteries as Roadside Attractions

2024-12-15T11:30:00.000-08:00

South Jersey (especially along Route 9) is unparalleled for roadside attractions. Giant fiberglass cartoon figures, fanciful soft serve ice cream stands, diners, pyramids made of hubcaps, the list goes on. The list now, for me, includes small, pocket-sized cemeteries, like the one above, along Route 9 in Cape May Court House, New Jersey.

In the summer of 2024, I was researching forgotten cemeteries for my book, “Abandoned Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs” (expected publication in late 2025, on Fonthill). South Jersey, being in the general area of Philly, was on my radar. I happened to be in Cape May, so why not check out the local cemeteries?

On my drive back north to Philly on Route 9, I noticed some small burial grounds pop up on my phone map. They were right along the highway. I stopped at two of them, plots of land about twenty feet wide, and fifteen feet deep, with maybe as many as ten old headstones standing at attention. The grounds were well taken care of.

Robert Morris in Holmes Family Cemetery

No doubt, these were family plots that had been on private property at one time. A few such burial grounds still exist in Philadelphia, e.g. the DeBenneville (est. 1758) and Vandegrift (est. 1775) cemeteries on North Broad Street and Bristol Pike, respectively, but New Jersey has many more. Why? Certainly south Jersey is more rural, but there must be other reasons why most private family cemeteries in Philadelphia were moved or built over. Chances are that heavy industrialization and rapid population growth in Philadelphia in the mid to late 1800s contributed to the eradication of small family cemeteries.

One of the topics I cover in my book is the disappearance of such small family burial grounds. Large farms and estates dwindled in size as parcels of land were sold off throughout the 1800s and early 1900s. These family burial grounds either disappeared, were built over, or the graves were moved. Some still exist, providing us with interesting slices of history.

Holmes Family Cemetery along Route 9, Cape May Court House, NJ

A cemetery I stopped at on Route 9 in Cape May Court House (that’s the name of the actual town) was a place that my cellphone map app called the Holmes Family Cemetery. Most of the gravestones had a death date in the early 1800s. Someone had placed small American flags on the veterans’ stones, men who had fought in the Revolutionary War. But wait, there was no Battle of Cape May, right? According to the book, Cape May County Story (Avalon Publishing, 1975) by Boyer and Cunningham:

“New Jersey became the foremost state in resisting British tyranny in January of 1775 when the Assembly voted to present grievances to the King. Jonathan Hand and Eli Elrdidge represented Cape May County at that meeting. No colony was more deeply involved in the Revolution than New Jersey. It was a natural passageway between New York and Philadelphia and was always in a condition of siege. Benjamin Franklin likened it to a barrel, open at both ends. It had been called the “Corridor State” and the “Cockpit of the Revolution” by some, and others referred to this state as the “Pathway to Freedom.”

American men who fought in the famous New Jersey battles of Monmouth, Trenton, Red Bank, and Princeton, had to come from somewhere. Many came from south Jersey, some of whom are probably buried in the Holmes Family Burial Ground. Excluding Quakers (conscientious objectors) and Tories (loyal to the King), the above noted historians tell us that “49 percent of the male population in the state bore arms and New Jersey contributed one eighth of the total men from all the colonies that fought in the war.”

The Holmes Family Cemetery was distinctive in that every headstone had daddy-long-legs spiders on them! Odd. What was even odder was all the other types of spiders dangling from the pine trees on web strands above my head.

About a mile up the road was a rather peculiar small cemetery in that it appeared to be in someone’s front yard. Curious, I parked across the busy street and walked up to the house, which had a pickup truck parked in the driveway. I knocked on the door. A man about 45 years old appeared. I told him I was researching a book on abandoned cemeteries and asked if he knew the story behind the gravestones in his front yard. My cellphone app called this the Hand Family Burial Ground. Perhaps the Jonathan Hand (1728 – 1789) mentioned in the passage above was a member of this family, and may be resting below one of the nameless, worn stones in this plot.

The homeowner asked me to wait while he put his shoes on. He came outside carrying a paperback book. He told me that when he bought the house about twenty years ago, it was explained to him that he did not own that small portion of land in his front yard. It was owned by the state of New Jersey. When Route 9, a state-owned highway, was built, all the small burial grounds along it were purchased by the state. The state maintains them.

Roadside view of Craig's property, Hand Family Cemetery in foreground

Craig's front yard looking toward Route 9, with Hand Family Cemetery near road

The owner, Craig, told me a rather comical story. He said that shortly after he bought the house, he woke up one morning to a lot of activity near the street. Cars were pulling up, people getting out and gathering in the cemetery. Suddenly, shots rang out and he hit the deck! He peeked through one of his windows and realized that a twenty-one gun salute had just occurred. It was Memorial Day and people were placing flags on the graves!

As I thanked him and was turning to leave, he held out the paperback as a gift. He said “My mother was a historian and co-authored this book. You can have it.” The book is called Cape May County Story, the very book I quoted above. And yes, it does mention cemeteries.

Sarah Somers (1770 - 1796)

It is interesting to see familiar surnames on the stones in these old cemeteries. Sarah Somers (1770 - 1796) and Sarah Hand (1741 – 1826), both buried in the Hand plot, each have surnames that should be familiar to beachgoers who frequent the Jersey shore. Sarah Somers and her husband, Constant Somers, may be related in some way to nearby Somers Point, a south Jersey beach town. Sarah Hand along with her husband Jesse Hand, Esq., may have been related to the still current and popular shore business, Hand’s Department Store on Jersey's Long Beach Island.

Sarah Hand (1741 – 1826)

The two small cemeteries I stopped at had been private family burial grounds at the edges of farms. As the farms were diced up and sold as small packets of land for development as residential properties, the burial grounds were kept intact. There is another small cemetery on the grounds of the Cape May Zoo, but I could not find that one. They may all have been forgotten by the public, as they are hidden in plain sight, but they have, thankfully, been saved from oblivion by the state of New Jersey. They may not be as eye-catching as a giant fiberglass cow, but they will outlast most of Jersey's other roadside attractions.