Sunday, March 16, 2025

Interview with the Hearse Collector


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.




Saturday, March 8, 2025

The Grave of Rufus Weaver

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








Tuesday, February 18, 2025

Skull Art and Other Transgressive Behavior


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


Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Post-COVID Death Photography


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. 


Wednesday, January 15, 2025

The Scattering

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.


Friday, January 10, 2025

Some Cemeteries of Trenton, New Jersey


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: