Until The Moss Covered Up Our Names

Graving blog cemetery poem moss.

“I died for beauty but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
“For beauty,” I replied.
“And I for truth, the two are one;
We brethren are,” he said.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.”

― Emily Dickinson

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Graving With … Walmart?

While visiting Union Cemetery in Tumwater, Washington, I took a picture of the headstone for George, Isabella, and Riley Bush.  I spent a few minutes setting up the shot just right because I loved the contrast of the Bush family’s 1860’s headstone, and the 20th century superstore behind it.

Headstone near Walmart at the Union Cemetery in Tumwater, Washington.

But after posting this picture to Reddit, and to my Facebook page, I received a few messages from people telling me how sad or angry the picture made them.  It left me wondering what the Bush family would have thought of this view.  Maybe they would have really liked to be right where all the action is, near the hustle and bustle of a shopping center.

Plus, I know of at least one person who probably would have loved to be buried there…

Headstone with epitaph Gone To Walmart in Wasilla, Alaska.

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My Visit To Bachelor’s Grove…Just In Time?

I desperately wanted to go to Bachelor’s Grove Cemetery. Ever since I got the cemetery baseball card last Christmas I knew I just had to see it, now here I was only 30 miles away… yet it might as well have been 1,000.
Picture of a path in Bachelor's Grove Cemetery near Chicago, Illinois.

A weird request

During my recent trip to Chicago I realized visiting Bachelors Grove Cemetery may not ever be in the cards for me. I hadn’t known that the cemetery would be 40 whole minutes from the hotel I was staying at, or that the cemetery would have strict rules regarding the time that it closes. I was warned by locals not to even try and enter the forest preserve after sunset, as the area police are reportedly very strict about this rule.

But I wasn’t about to give up so easily.

Since the cemetery was so far away a bus or cab was out of the question. So after some thought I knew my best bet was to convince a local or someone with a rental car to take me.

I was in Chicago for a work conference, and I knew very few people in the class. So I did what anyone would do in my situation (right?), I announced to the whole class that I planned on visiting a “haunted” cemetery 40 minutes away and needed a ride, and maybe a companion or two. My friend Diane volunteered to go right away so I had a companion, now my plan just needed another teeny tiny little part of the thing …a ride.

Matt to the rescue

No luck. No one took me up on the offer to take hours out of their evening driving us to and from a cemetery in the middle of the forest. Go figure.

Seriously though, I thought people would be clamoring at the chance to go on such an awesome outing but it was quite the opposite reaction. During the first class break multiple people came up to me and advised against my trip to Bachelor’s Grove. They told me me that it was unwise to go out into a strange city. After all anything could happen to me, did I hear about the school kids that were just shot while walking home from school? What exactly that had to do with Bachelor’s Grove I didn’t know, and I wasn’t discouraged.

Another classmate, Gae Lynne, volunteered to come along. So there were three of us now and all we needed was a ride. A little later a new person entered the classroom, Matt. I didn’t know Matt personally but I did know one very important piece of information: Matt lives in Chicago. I looked at Diane and said “Should I ask him? He wasn’t here when I made the announcement so…”

“Oh yes,” she said, “definitely ask him!” So I did.

Without hesitation he said “Sure I’ll take you, when do you want to go?”

So that was that and the next night, Diane, Gae Lynne, Matt, and I were off to Bachelor’s Grove…

Visiting Bachelor’s Grove – in pictures

Picture of Jennifer Wirawan on a trip for the graving blog Graving With Jenn.
I was super excited to get to the cemetery and couldn’t resist snapping tons of photos on the way. Matt was great and took us through many cool places in the city so we could have a tour of Chicago as well.
Picture of the parking lot for the historical Bachelor's Grove Cemetery.
This is Matt. Matt is awesome. Cemeteries aren’t for Matt though, so he stayed in the car.
Picture of the path leading up to Bachelor's Grove Cemetery in Illinois.
Walking up to the trail leading to the cemetery. I was giddy by this point. A little nervous, but mainly giddy. Diane and Gae Lynne must have thought I was nuts, but lots of people think I’m nuts, so that’s okay.
Picture of a wooded trail into Bachelor's Grove Cemetery taken by Graving With Jenn.
Walking down the trail to Bachelors Grove was kind of surreal. I had seen so many photos of this trail that it felt like I had already been there. It was odd to recognize a place I had never been to before.

We only ran into one group of people the whole time and they were filming as they walked away from the cemetery. There was a little girl in the group and she said:
“We didn’t see anything.”

Picture of the entrance into Bachelor's Grove Cemetery with trash can saying bachelorsgrove.org on it.
There was no sign at the entrance of Bachelors Grove save for this trashcan. I wonder if the prior signs had been stolen? I am guessing even the worst vandals wouldn’t want to run away with a trash can though.
Picture of broken headstones in Bachelor's Grove Cemetery which many people believe to be haunted with many ghost sightings.
When you first walk into Bachelors Grove you are immediately struck with images of vandalism. So many monuments have been knocked over and broken that it is impossible to know for sure who is buried where.
The woods around Bachelor's Grove Cemetery near Chicago, Illinois.
Some areas of the cemetery looked more like a jungle. If you didn’t know better, it would be hard to believe this was once a very well tended cemetery with beautiful monuments and flowers.
Picture of the Foskett headstone in Bachelor's Grove Cemetery, Illinois.
One of the few monuments actually standing in Bachelor’s Grove. This one looks like it was fixed recently.
Picture of the infant daughter baby headstone in Bachelor's Grove Cemetery.

Closeup picture of the Infant Daughter baby headstone at the Bachelor's Grove Cemetery in Illinois.
I couldn’t visit Bachelor’s Grove without stopping and visiting infant daughter Fulton. She has become sort of a guardian for the cemetery. People who visit leave her small trinkets, flowers, and light candles. I left her a finger puppet in the shape of a moose. Being from Alaska I figured it was appropriate.

The Bachelor's Grove Cemetery pond which is full of sunken headstones and some say dead bodies.
The infamous pond of Bachelor’s Grove was (surprisingly) exactly how I had imagined it. Who knew it would actually be green and bubbly? Some headstones were thrown into this pond by vandals. Volunteers have managed to save a few, but I wonder how many are still down there?
A panorama picture of the Bachelor's Grove cemetery taken for the cemetery blog Graving With Jenn.
A panorama of the cemetery (click for larger view, it’s worth it). This picture shows the overall feel of the cemetery, with the creepy green bubbling pond in the background.
Panorama of the Bachelor's Grove pond which contains many sunken headstones and some believe the former site of mob activity.
Panorama of the creepy bubbling pond (click for larger view). Rumor has it that the mob used to bring people out there to kill them and dump the bodies in the pond. I have a lot of respect for the people who dig headstones out of here…
A headstone broken by vandals in Bachelor's Grove Cemetery, Illinois which some people believe to be haunted.
Some of the headstones are so broken it is impossible to tell what they used to say. I got a little creeped out when I was photographing this one, I’m not sure why. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the rumors of hauntings, but I didn’t linger here too long.
Picture of a fallen headstone marked Rippet in Bachelor's Grove Cemetery.
Many stones were simply knocked over, but some stones like this one were completely moved from their original base.
Picture of two headstones by a split tree and a knocked over headstone in Bachelor's Grove Graveyard.
I loved walking the paths in Bachelor’s Grove and seeing each headstone, even the damaged ones were still quite beautiful.
The broken fence around Bachelor's Grove Cemetery in Illinois.
A fence surrounds much of the cemetery, but has broken down in many places through the years. It serves as more of a visual reminder of the cemetery’s boundaries than anything else.
Headstone of John Hamilton in Bachelor's Grove cemetery in Illinois.
When I took this photo I had no idea that this headstone had been recently discovered in someone’s backyard, having disappeared from the cemetery sometime between 1969 and 1976. I wonder how many other headstones from this cemetery are in random backyards?
Picture of the checkered headstone where people report seeing The White Lady sitting.
I couldn’t resist photographing the famous “checkered base” that was the subject of a pretty popular picture of a “ghost” sitting on it. I am not sure what I expected to find when I looked at this picture later, because there was no ghost sitting there and I wasn’t at all surprised.
Picture of the entrance to the Bachelor's Grove Cemetery, which is an opening in the fence.
We spent a long time in the cemetery and as you can imagine I took a ton of photos. I didn’t want to leave but I knew I couldn’t stay forever, and Matt was waiting in the car. However this was definitely an experience I will never forget!

The future of Bachelor’s Grove … Prison?

While reading up some more on Bachelor’s Grove before posting this blog, I ran across some recent events that have saddened me. It seems a headstone repair group, approached originally to help assist in repairing the cemetery, is pushing for the cemetery to be fenced off for good. This would mean that no one could go in Bachelor’s Grove, ever.

How sad for the families of the people buried here, to have to look in through a fence to see the graves of your loved ones, as if they are in a zoo or prison. I can’t imagine that the deceased would have wanted their resting place caged off from the outside world just because a headstone repair group prefers to keep their work pristine.

I think that fencing off Bachelor’s Grove will invite more crime to the area. The lawful people who want to visit and take care of the place will be shut out, while the mystique and interest of the cemetery for non-law abiding citizens will drastically increase.

I hope I get a chance to visit Bachelor’s Grove again and be able to walk the well worn paths of visitors, and hear the stories of the headstone recovery efforts without being shut out as if the deceased are in prison, never to be freed.

For more information about how to speak out against the efforts to permanently cage in the cemetery, see the right hand side of this website: bachelorsgrove.com.

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The Mysterious Jones Point Musician

Picture of the entrance sign to the Haines Cemetery to illustrate this cemetery blog post.While wandering through the scenic Jones Point Cemetery in Haines, Alaska, I couldn’t help but notice the wide variety of sounds coming from all around me.

There was the whirring of machines in the warehouse next door, the buzzing of the bees and mosquitoes, and even the beating wings of the eagles that Haines is so famous for.

It was an interesting mix of sounds but I put them out of my mind as I only had a short amount of time and wanted to concentrate on what I was there to do: photographing all the headstones so that the information could be preserved forever.

Going from headstone to headstone I became very focused and didn’t notice anything in particular until some movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.

Picture of old headstones in a cemetery to illustrate this story for the cemetery blog called Graving With Jenn.I looked up from my camera and saw a man who seemingly came from nowhere. He was dressed in sandals, black pants, a brimmed hat, and a black coat. His long hair and beard obscured his face. But one thing in particular made him stand out, he was holding a guitar.

He walked right over to a bench near me and began playing a gentle tune on the guitar. The notes were halting and unsure at first. After a short while of playing (and watching me, probably wondering what exactly I was doing) he began to sing a slow, sad melody. As he became more comfortable the notes became more sure, his voice louder, until I couldn’t hear the other chorus of noises around the cemetery, and could only hear his sad melody.

The music became a companion to me as I read each headstone, wondering about the person buried there. Who were they? Did they have someone to Picture of a bench and windchimes in the cemetery where the story in this cemetery blog happened.play them love songs? I also wondered about the mysterious musician. Was this simply a quiet place to practice? To reflect? Or was the slow, sad melody a love song to a dear lost loved one?

After a while I heard the melody stop and I looked up to see which way the stranger was going. But he was already gone, disappearing as mysteriously as he arrived. I can’t help but wish that every visit to a cemetery was accompanied by such beautiful music.

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The Thirsty Ground: Visiting The Historic Riverside Cemetery – Part Two

I’m sorry this took so long to post, but here is part two of my visit to the historic Riverside Cemetery in Denver, Colorado. In part one, Teddy’s Ominous Warning, I explained that Riverside Cemetery is Denver’s oldest operating cemetery. The cemetery lost its “handshake agreement” with the city for water rights, and because of this the cemetery no longer has water and many of the trees and plants are dying…

Dying trees in Riverside Cemetery Denver, Colorado to illustrate this cemetery blog story.

It was easy to forget about Teddy’s warning because I became so engrossed in the beauty of the cemetery. This cemetery was nothing like I’d seen before. On one hand it was much like a wasteland with dead trees, and no more than a few tufts of grass, yet on the other it was like walking through a museum, with the history of Denver spread out as far as one was willing to walk. I knew that four hours was not enough time to take in all the wonder of this place. But I was going to try.

Cemetery blog picture of the Baker horse monument in Riverside Cemetery.I passed beautiful statuary, monuments, crypts, and tributes. I found large family plots with ornate carved statues marking the final resting place of generation upon generation of Denver settlers. I saw faded headstones that were no longer discernable, monuments whose meanings were unclear, and tributes to soldiers who fought bravely in the Civil War.

One thing that especially caught my eye was the Baker monument. I could see it from the moment I entered the cemetery, and slowly worked my way towards it, taking in the beauty around me, but rarely taking my eyes off of the magnificent white horse.

The horse was standing atop a pedestal, guarding a sheaf of wheat, his tail seemingly blowing in the wind, drawing me in. Years of wear and hot dry weather have taken its toll on the beautiful stallion, but he was magnificent nonetheless.

Picture of Mr. Addison Baker who was the caretaker of Riverside Cemetery in Denver, Colorado.It turns out that this is the final resting place of Addison Baker. Mr. Baker was a prominent farmer and the owner of Denver’s first fresh water supply, Baker’s Springs. Legend states that he used to deliver all of the water to this cemetery in barrels atop a wagon pulled by his beloved arabian stallion “Ali”. I wonder what Mr. Baker would think of the cemetery if he could see it now.

I went from tree to tree trying to find what little shade I could so as not to burn in the heat. Luckily, every once in awhile, a soft breeze would pass through. It saddened me to see the condition of what were once large lush trees overlooking a long gone green landscape. I couldn’t help but think back to what I read about the trees in the cemetery, and how they were dying and falling down onto the headstones. Almost immediately I remembered Teddy’s warning. Could I hear the groaning and creaking of the trees when the wind hit them just right? Nah…

Picture different kinds of headstones to illustrate this story in the cemetery blog.But as I approached the back of the cemetery I heard a noise behind me in the woods, a rustling that was coming towards me. Instantly the hair stood up on the back of my neck and I became acutely aware of my surroundings. I was almost completely isolated, hidden from the rest of the cemetery by a hill full of three crypts and behind me was a wall of trees marking the edge of the cemetery…this is where the noises were coming from.

I suddenly felt uneasy, what could be behind me in the woods? I tried to convince myself that it must be a squirrel or a rabbit, but it was too loud to be such a small animal. There was no place for me to hide either, unless I wanted to plow through cobwebs and descend the stone steps into the darkness of the crypt in front of me.

I looked into the woods, my eyes darting around to find the source of the noise. Nothing. As I turned to walk further, I heard the rustling again. I would be lying if I said i wasn’t seriously spooked, I realized that if there was something back there, it could easily get to me and no-one would notice.

Picture of the Evans crypt on the side of a hill in the Riverside Cemetery for this cemetery blog.I told myself I would just take pictures of the last crypt, and then move away from the trees.

The uneasy feeling continued to build up inside of me as I took pictures of the crypt, and the second I heard the rustling noise again I booked it out of there pretty quickly.

I’m not superstitious, but I know there’s no reason to take chances when you’re wandering a cemetery alone, especially since strewn around the crypt area were old beer cans and other signs of habitation by someone who may be in the woods behind me.

I put the rustling out of my mind so as to make the most of my limited time, but there was a problem. The 96 degree sun had been beating down on me the whole time and and it was beginning to take its toll. Now I had a taste of what the cemetery was exposed to day in and day out, all without any source of water. My own source of water, a single water bottle, was fast drying up. I wondered if the old funeral home at the front of the cemetery was open today, and made my way towards the building, hoping for a respite from the scorching heat.

Picture of the funeral home in the Riverside Cemetery in Denver, Colorado setting of the story in this cemetery blog.Walking into the building was like taking a breath of fresh air. The table and chairs, and ceiling fan were a much needed break from the immense heat. I was surprised that the building was open and asked the man sitting behind the counter if i could rest for a short time out of the sun.

After a few minutes break, the man, who told me his name is Jay, showed me around the building. I saw the original crematory (a room I didn’t stay in for long) and the original chapel which had been turned into a museum of sorts with black and white photos lining the walls. I could write a whole blog on what I learned about the history of the cemetery, but I’ll save that for another day.

As I was headed back outside, Jay saw my dwindling water bottle and offered to let me fill it with the water cooler in the back. I was very thankful for this opportunity, but felt a little guilty that I was getting water, while those magnificent trees were not.

Later, when I was sure I could no longer take the heat, I decided it was time to call Teddy and ask for a ride back. As the train thundered past me I called the number he had given me.

“Hello?” I could hear the train on the other end of the line.

“Teddy, It’s Jenn, can you come and get me?” I asked.

“Jenn! I already came, I am waiting for train, very long. So glad you are okay, I came to check on you.”

Panorama picture of various headstones at the Riverside Cemetery.

A few short minutes after I hung up the phone he was pulling into the cemetery. He told me that he had gotten a call for another fare in a part of town far away and was afraid that I would get stranded at the cemetery. “Cabs don’t come here” he said “very bad area”.

On the way back Teddy was very happy that I had made it out ok and was excited to hear how my day had gone. I told him about my adventures, about meeting Jay and how he had shown me around, and about how beautiful it had been. If only I was staying in Denver longer I could have enough time to explore all the beauty there.

Just as we were pulling up to the hotel it started to rain. As the raindrops hit the windshield, I smiled. The cemetery did get some water, after all.

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