Pioneer Cemetery, Santa Cruz, CA

This cemetery is special to me for several reasons. It's one of the first cemeteries where I felt the presences of many different beings: trees spirits, unsettled spirits, guardians and guides and unexplainable things. Here I had my first experience of the air turning frigid around me on a hot summers day. I felt the heavy gaze of watchers who we cannot see, warning me not to stray from the path. To others this might sound a bit cheesy, but to me they are real experiences and I know I'm not the only one to have them. Especially in this place.

The cemetery itself is in seriously disrepair. It's obvious that transients bed there on a regular basis: whisky bottles and drug paraphernalia litter the grounds. At least half of the graves are desecrated and broken, either by the natural turnings of the earth (earthquakes) or by deliberate human actions. Every time I visit I am struck with sadness at it's state. And yet there are the other things that bring a smile to my face. Giant guardian trees. A headstone for a woman named Joy that is hidden beneath and behind a truly enormous cedar tree.

I have to wonder what it would look like if people actually gave a damn about the graveyard. It's obvious that the main promenade was gorgeous in some distant past. I visited it again in July and discovered that sometime recently a woman was buried there. So maybe there is hope that people will be motivated to restore it to it's previous beauty. I certainly hope for it.

Ocean Shores Resort, Ocean Shores WA

Paul and I took an RV trip to Ocean Shores in July. Since the public campground was closed, we randomly picked another place and ended up at a pretty place just outside Ocean Shores. The sites were quite private and shady, just the way we like it. As we drove around checking it out, I saw a sign back from the road that said "Pioneer Cemetery." Of course this made me laugh and settled the matter of whether or not to stay there. Paul's beginning to think he can't take me anywhere without finding a graveyard close by. Thank goodness he loves me with all my quirks.

Pioneer cemeteries are just that: the places where the pioneers of an area buried their dead. I find it interesting that many are still used today and are an option available for those not wanting to be in a modern memorial garden or cemetery. There were very few graves in this cemetery, mostly belonging to people who passed quite some time ago, mostly Native Americans who lived in the area. It was a quiet and neglected sort of place, not exactly welcoming to the living. Then again, I visited on a particularly dark and gloomy day, when the fog was rolling in off the Pacific Ocean, so maybe that influenced my thoughts and feelings about the place. I only stayed a short while, enjoying the sound of rain dripping from the enormous and obviously guardian tree, before finding my way back to a strong cup of Scottish Breakfast tea to warm me up.

Resources!

I found a really helpful book in the library the other day:

A Genealogist's Guide to Discovering Your English Ancestors by Paul Milner and Linda Jones

It's got lots of interesting stuff and has plenty of information to get started with. Since beginning my ancestor work a couple years ago, I've discovered that much of my father's heritage comes from the British Isles, specifically England. So to find a book specifically detailing how to searches for English heritage a fabulous find indeed.

I also find that the http://www.rootsweb.com/ is a great place to start looking up your heritage. Why? Because it's one of the few truly free sites out there. Even though it's linked to http://www.ancestry.com/, you can access the information on it for no charge or sign up fees. And this is a marvelous boon. I discovered that I can access http://www.ancestry.com/ from my local library for free as well, which makes me very happy.

And for those looking for more information on the symbology in cemeteries, the book Stories in Stone: A Field Guide to Cemetery Symbolism and Iconography by Douglas Keister is a small book but quite thorough. I knew there was a Moose lodge, but an Owl lodge? Fascinating stuff for a weirdo like me.

Mountain View Cemetery, Ashland, Oregon

When driving to California last month, my friend Kat and I stopped off at a Wendy's to get her some food. We drove past this lovely cemetery and on the way back north a week later we decided to take a break from driving and walk through it. It's obviously a well loved place, filled with headstones of odd shapes and sizes with names that feel like they belong in 1920's silent films. The grounds were filled with trees, flowers and tidy mowed grass. We both felt really welcome there. There were a ton of flickers and crows in the trees, trilling and cackling above us. People were walking their dogs along the paths. I loved the fact the Madrona tree in center of the cemetery was commemorated with a plaque - it was Ashland's tree of the year in 2006. You've got to love a city that honors trees each year.

Many cemeteries have specific sections for infants and children, although I'm not convinced that the title "Babyland" is the best word to use for them. I'm not quite sure what feels wrong about it, but it's just a little creepy. The angel was remarkably untouched, wings intact and no other noticeable damage. Yet another sign that this cemetery is well cared for. I snapped quite a few pictures in this place, of the headstones and trees. One of the headstones was just a huge, rounded stone with the names carved into it. Another had some gorgeous stained glass. And another was absolutely astonishing- on the top was a brass whale tail sculpture and just beneath it was the phrase "Goin Deep." Written at the base was the following quote:

This stone is in tribute to all living creatures, that have suffered and endured Man in his quest to control. -John C. Westerfield

What a wonderful monument. I hope that if I choose to be buried that I can come up with something as lovely as this. I left an offering in respect for the sentiment and smiled the rest of the afternoon. The afternoon was drawing to a close when we finally headed north once more. I look forward to stopping there again on my next trip to California, to linger in the shade of the many trees and wonder about the lives of those who lived there.

Conconully Cemetery, Eastern Washington

I visited this cemetery shortly before dusk during our Memorial Day weekend trip this year. It's about two miles out of the small Eastern Washington town of Conconully. Paul, his brother Glenn and father Rod spent the weekend riding ATV's all over the countryside and I had some blessed peace and quiet. I spent much of the time beneath ancient willow trees at the town park across from our RV site. It was perfect weather for laying in the grass and looking up into green branches, thinking and doing nothing in particular.

The night before we left I took a walk to this cemetery. It was sometime after 6pm and the day was beginning slide towards nightfall. I figured a walk would do me some good, so off I went. About halfway there it occurred to me that walking alone up the main highway wasn't probably the best plan for a woman, especially when you're out in the middle of nowhere. But did that stop me? Noooo.. I had a graveyard to explore! Thank goodness for those who watch over fools.
It was getting close to sundown when I walked through the back gate of the cemetery. The first thing that struck me was how brown and brittle everything seemed. I kicked up dust as I walked alone along the mowed pathways between the graves. The grass grew wild, tall strands waving in a stiff breeze. I snapped a few pictures iron fences enclosing a family plot and a strange and unmarked headstone. There were some surprises: the lilacs were in full bloom and their perfume lingered in the air. And one grave had some glorious purple irises beginning to blossom in sharp contrast to the dead grass and plastic flowers all around them. It was peculiar to see such vibrant life and color what felt like such a weathered and desolate place.

I got a strong feeling that I'd better be out of the cemetery before nightfall, which was not far off by the time I left. As I walked back into town, I watched the sun beginning to set over the mountains in the West. I reflected on what it would be like to live and die in this part of the world. And I thought, as I watched the the last rays of the sun fall golden on the lake below me, that maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to be buried there. After all, you'd have the glory of the mountains around you, the lilacs and irises in the Spring and hawks flying overhead year long. And that would be no bad thing.

Cypress Lawn Memorial Park

One of the things I've noticed during my visits to many graveyards is that there is a different flavor to those who fall under the heading of "Memorial Park." Many of them feel like parks and not cemeteries at all, which seems strange to me. There are almost always immaculately manicured lawns with few headstones sticking up out of the grass. There are plenty of rules about what can or cannot be placed on grave sites, which are usually posted on neatly printed signs placed along the paths that meander throughout the graves. I can understand wanting to comfort the living when they are visiting their deceased loved ones. Making a graveyard feel like a golfer's dream is something else entirely. I'm just saying...

Several relatives of my maternal lineage are buried in Cypress Lawn Memorial Park in Everett, WA. It has immaculate lawns, plenty of flowers and paths and a lovely memorial to those who have fallen in service to our country. My relatives are buried in this section. I snapped a shot of the memorial, as well as each of their gravestones, leaving offerings and prayers for them. After visiting them for a while I wandered toward the back of the park, which felt entirely different.

The headstones stand tall above lush grass. They are ornate, mostly memorials of the recent dead, many of them made of polished marble that gleam in the sunlight. I snapped a few of them as well, because they felt so out of place in this neat and tidy park setting. My favorite picture is one of a bench beneath a giant tree. The bench is inscribed with "Have a Sunshine Day!' It makes me smile every time I see it.

Evergreen Washelli

One of the reasons I love cemeteries is the unexpected things you can find there. Several weeks ago I had about 20 minutes before picking up a friend and decided I'd wander into the Evergreen Washelli cemetery in Seattle. I was drawn to a giant stone pyramid on the northern perimeter of the cemetery and stopped to investigate further. I'd seen it before but never had time to poke around and see what was there. The pyramid itself is in fact a Russian Veterans Church Monument dedicated to Saint Nicholas. Most of the graves there had Russian names and many had ornate headstones. It was there that found the angel with the haunted eyes who adorns the beginning of this blog. After wandering around the pyramid and snapping some pictures of interesting headstones, I reached the western side and discovered a door on the pyramid. And it was was propped slightly open. I couldn't resist- I opened it or and peered inside.

What I found there broke my heart. It was clearly once a holy place used for services. It was obviously disused, abused and neglected. The air was pungent with mold. The paintings gazed down upon you from high up on the wall- angels, Mary, Jesus, all sorrowful and melancholy. Some had mildew spots. At some point someone had started a fire and there were scorch marks on the pulpit and side tables, their fabric coverings beginning to disintegrate. Yet despite all these things, the gilded icons still glowed in the sunlight that touched them. I felt like I was in a place outside of normal reality. And I felt a strong desire to call attention to this place, to bring back it's sacred reverence, something I may still do.

As I closed the door, I gave a silent prayer of thanks for allowing me to take photographs, as well as a prayer that someone would find a way to clean things up. My 20 minutes was up and I needed to be on my way. I will most likely be visiting that place again and I'm curious to see what it looks like now.