Elysian Fields – The Second Coming

As you may recall from our last episode, I spent some time photographing an abandoned cemetery and had a bit of a challenge getting out afterwards. So when the opportunity arose to return to the same site two days later, I licked my wounds, cuts, scrapes, and bruises and jumped at the opportunity. You know what they say about lost opportunity: “a squandered gift, a wasted day, time chases life away” (at least the band Slaid Cleaves says so in their song, “Sinner’s Prayer”).

How did this come about? Well, some friends of mine expressed interest in photographing this same site, folks who like me, appreciate the beauty in entropy. It was such an amazing place, that I could not resist a second visit. I was to meet them nearby and we would all climb the fence into the graveyard. We met at the appointed hour; however, I misjudged the expected activity at the site next door. This had been staid on my last visit; now, it was now teeming with activity. Backhoes digging, pickup trucks zooming around. So we found a climbable section of the fence, out of view of the construction people. My companions, who were much younger and more limber than I, had no difficulty getting up the fence and down the vine-covered tree on the other side. I had some difficulty, the final portion of my trip culminating with a slide down yonder which scraped a few inches of skin on my forearm. But hey, no guts, no glory. 

Off we trudged into the old, gnarly graveyard. Sky was clear, weather was cold. This particular area was easy to walk through, but just ahead we could see hillocks of invasive mile-a-minute weeds engulfing monuments, headstones, and everything else in its path. Looked like a lunar landscape of dead farmland, or something. The cemetery is preserved, but not in a way that it was intended. Trees, growing at odd angles, their crooked branches strangled by vines, are so huge that they dwarf and enshroud thirty-foot tall obelisks. You wonder if old cemetery trees look as they do partly because of the arsenic and other nasty embalming chemicals in the soil.

While my prior visit to Elysian Fields (not its real name, as you may have guessed) offered a splendid opportunity for independent study, this visit would be otherwise. Shooting with others forces you to see things differently, sometimes to see things their way. It’s also safer if you’re not by yourself – who knows what you’d come upon in such a place - thieves stealing bronze doors off mausoleums, animals, or worse. I pointed out some familiar locations to my fellow photographers. At least one member of the party had never been in here, and it’s interesting to see that look of wide-eyed wonder on someone when you know they appreciate the initial experience as much as you did. Kind of like when a friend took me to the movies when Jaws was first released. He had seen the film a couple days before and knew when all the scary parts would happen. Instead of watching the movie at those times, he watched me to see my reaction!

I can describe this old graveyard to the best of my ability, but it really is not something that can be adequately expropriated by word or even image (though I am satisfied with the images I made). On a smaller scale, it would be akin to me describing or photographing the Grand Canyon and expecting you to appreciate it as if you were there. 

This was the type of day that achieves meteorological perfection, photography-wise. During my visit two days before, I must admit I was rather in a fugue state: kind of an altered state of consciousness in which you move about purposely but are not fully aware. Almost like the Stendhal Syndrome. The place has that kind of effect on you. Even with four of us moving around making photographs, reading epitaphs, little was spoken. There was little interaction as each individual took in the scene though his own filter.

Did it seem anti-climactic for me to be here a second time just days after my last visit? I might say that I wasn’t filled to the brim with a sense of purpose, though such photographic plentitude allowed me to concentrate on more detail than before. I made better and closer photographs of the monuments, I went inside the mausoleums whose doors were ajar. True, I was familiar with the terrain and locations of certain monuments, but repeatedly walking through a cemetery does not repeat the experience. You can never step into the same river twice. The weather changes, the lighting changes – even if you are there at the same time of day as I was two days before!

Though it was a sunny day, it was again cold – in the forties. Tomorrow it would rain, the next day it would turn sharply colder and snow. The angels and mourning women care not, as they commune in the shadows of giant obelisks and monuments. The famous and not so famous comingle throughout this vast sculpture garden, the tangles of foliage giving evidence of Nature trying to reclaim her territory.

As we enter beckoning mausoleums with their missing stained glass windows, it is evident that theft occurs. No one legitimately comes in here, save the very occasional descendant. I notice a couple of fresh Christmas wreaths lying at the base of two headstones, their dried-up predecessors lying outside the plot area. Weird. Aside from this, everything looks as if in suspended animation, but from what year? 1970? 1940? 1910? Difficult to say. In its present state, this place has an immense amount of character, and is one of the most photographically interesting abandoned sites in the history of history.

Typically cemeteries offer distinct boundaries between the sacred and the profane, but this place is quite the opposite. There is memory preservation here, and that’s good. But perpetual care? Not so much. The child buried beneath the statue (in the photo below) will always be a child. John Barrymore’s legend will live through the ages, but who visits and honors his grave? A cemetery is a way of preserving things. Not necessarily the past, more like the present. This forsaken old Victorian graveyard is not just who we were, it is also who we are. However, I’ve learned to keep an open mind about such abandoned sites as this – just because it is not kept up does not mean people don’t care about it. 

All the while I was at Elysian Fields I was getting texts and cell phone calls. Rather annoying and couldn’t concentrate. So I decided to leave before the others were done. I had an ulterior motive, I must confess: I was not keen on having witnesses to my expected ungraceful exit over the fence! So I made my way through the weeds, back behind the beyond where I expected to find safe passage home. 

Unfortunately, the backhoes were now digging right there! Second best, I would attempt to climb the tree where we had come in, and hop the fence at that point. I managed to get to the top of the barbed-wire fence by pulling myself up the tree like freaking George of the Jungle when – a pickup truck zoomed into view! I did not want anyone to see me, though I wasn’t at all sure they would even care, so I loosened my gloved grip and the vines gave way! The only thing that broke my six-foot fall were all the dry-rotted tree branches lying on the ground. They say our physical senses reflect our current belief system. If that is indeed the case, I believe I just fell out of a tree. But they also say that the responsibility for our pain is our own.

After checking to make sure nothing else was broken, I got pissed off and grabbed the nearest vine and pulled myself up to the top off the fence, damn the pickup trucks. I got to the top, saw no one in site and made a break for it. I dropped down the opposite side, grabbed my photography gear, and walked nonchalantly across the grounds to my car. As nonchalantly as I could with torn pants and sticks and leaves sticking out of my hair.

Creating abandoned site photographs is exhilarating. The danger is evident in every picture. This is probably why I enjoy similar work by others – I know how difficult it is to gain access to these places. I appreciate others’ work, when it is something that I myself may be too scared to attempt.

Please click here to read part one of this story:
A New Year - A New Abandoned Cemetery

Odd Decision by the Odd Fellows Cemetery

Mount Vernon Cemetery in Philadelphia certainly has a look of abandonment about it. Locked gate, shoulder-high weeds, statues peeking out from the trees. Photographers have been trying to get inside for years, but it’s just been next to impossible. The absentee-owner seems to fear publicity and resists any request for entry unless you want to buy a plot. How the people who have loved ones buried here (and that includes the famous Barrymore theatrical family, among them actress Drew Barrymore’s grandfather) tolerate the conditions is beyond me.

So it was not a surprise when someone at a local photography show told me a few weeks ago that there was a “condemned” sign on one of the buildings. (People always come to me with juicy cemetery tidbits.) So a few days later, I zoomed up there (31^st Street and Lehigh Avenue) to check it out. I drove around the cemetery perimeter only to find the orange “Notice of Demolition” sign taped to the window of the gatehouse belonging to the cemetery next door, Mount Peace, sometimes known as the Odd Fellows Cemetery. 

A big old brick and wooden structure, the gatehouse seemed to be in much better condition than the actual inhabited row homes across the street. The sign said that demolition of the house would begin on or about July 31, 2012. The yard was dug up and “Caution” tape was strung across the front porch. The inside of the old house, which had been used as the cemetery office, was in obvious disrepair. A trailer sat in the yard, looking like the demolition work crew’s headquarters. (Here’s an old photo of the house on the Odd Fellows Cemetery website. 

Estate House at Odd Fellows' Mount Peace Cemetery, Philadelphia

From the Mount Peace website, a bit of history:

“The Odd Fellows Cemetery Company of Philadelphia was incorporated in 1849 when the population of Philadelphia was only 400,000. The original Odd Fellows Cemetery was located on Diamond Street, between 23rd and 24th Streets. Due to Philadelphia's population growth, in 1865 the Cemetery Company purchased grounds for a second cemetery. This 50 acre tract was purchased from an estate named "Mount Peace" and is located at what is now 31st Street and Lehigh Avenue. The cemetery maintained the estate name for Mount Peace Cemetery.”

One can assume the house was the original “Mount Peace” estate house, which means it was built prior to 1865. Though the house looked to be in great shape externally, what interested and concerned me at least as much as the house was the possible plight and fate of its surrounding ironwork – the black iron fencing, main gate, and “Mount Peace” sign. I hoped this would remain intact. Philadelphia is known for some truly magnificent historical ironwork, and this fencing must have quite an historical pedigree.

For intricate ironwork, the swirls on each side of the entrance pillars are nothing short of amazing. These and the wrought iron vertical extensions of the pillars (to which the cemetery name sign is connected) appear to be truly unique among Philadelphia cemeteries. I spent about an hour photographing just the ironwork.

The huge house appeared to contain the office, with a garage and extension off the back to hold construction equipment. I was curious as to what was going on so I phoned Lawnview Cemetery, who owns Mount Peace (also known as the old Odd Fellows Cemetery). I was told the house was indeed being demolished but the ironwork would remain. The trailer, according to the person to whom I spoke will replace the old house! Interesting how the company boasts "Historical Pride" on its website; however, I suppose there may be a good reason to wipe away all traces of the historic home.

Looking out cemetery gate onto Lehigh Avenue

A few days later, I posted a photo of the soon-to-be-demolished house on Facebook, and get a flurry of irate and incensed responses in the “How could they do such a thing?” vein. One person suggested I contact the Philadelphia Historic Commission and Preservation Alliance (for Greater Philadelphia). So I posted info on both their Facebook sites and received zero response. Quite a shame to lose this wonderful piece of architectural history.

References and Further Reading:

Mount Peace/Lawnview website
Read peoples' comments on Ed Snyder’s Facebook page 

Read peoples' comments on Ed Snyder’s StoneAngels Photography Facebook page 

Flattened Tombstones

King David Memorial Park, Bensalem (NE Philadelphia)

What do Nancy Spungen (of "Sid and Nancy" fame) and actor John Barrymore have in common? Admittedly, not much. However, they both have flat-to-the-ground tombstones. Spungen is buried in a cemetery where flat stones are required, and Barrymore, along with the rest of the Barrymore theatrical dynasty, seems to have chosen flat markers by choice. While practical, I can't imagine anything more mundane.

Mt. Vernon Cemetery, Philadelphia

Back in the early 1990s, I made a trip to Forest Lawn Cemetery in Glendale California to see the Lone Ranger's grave, among others. I found that the majority of the 250,000 inhabitants have flush to the ground grave markers - all the same size! I certainly didn't find it very attractive - grassy fields punctuated with cheesy modern sculptures here and there. I could find none of the graves I came there to see. I remember asking the groundskeeper why its like this, and he replied, beaming, “It makes it so easy to cut the grass!”

Obviously, that's the main attraction - ease of maintenance. But I just don't get it. Granted, we could not reproduce the splendor of a Victorian sculpture garden cemetery today - the cost would be prohibitive. Plus, stone carving just ain't what it used to be! While such cemeteries had a distinct plan, the sheer variety of the monuments themselves gave an air of and uniqueness to each cemetery.

The trend today, of course, is vastly different. Flat markers, or "grass markers," as they're called on the Bertolini Memorials and Monuments website, are only one of many regulations we are warned about:

CEMETERY RULES and REGULATIONS

Most cemeteries have regulations and rules concerning the size, style, color, and design of headstone, markers and memorials. Some examples are:

1. Catholic cemeteries always require a religious design on the headstone.
2. Some may not allow porcelain pictures placed on the surface of a stone.
3. Many sections of cemeteries require specific styles of markers such as a flat type. This makes it easier for lawn care maintenance.

A cemetery can not refuse acceptance of your memorial as long as it meets their provided specifications. The client has the right to purchase their memorial from a vendor of their choice.

As it turns out, the Forest Lawn Cemetery chain (in Southern California) may have actually been the instigator of this trend toward flat grave markers. In 1906, Forest Lawn was founded by a group of San Francisco businessmen, with Dr. Hubert Eaton credited as its founder. According to Wikipedia, Eaton developed  the "memorial park plan," of eliminating upright grave markers.

[Eaton] was convinced that most cemeteries were "unsightly, depressing stoneyards" and pledged to create one that would reflect his optimistic, Christian beliefs, "as unlike other cemeteries as sunshine is unlike darkness." He envisioned Forest Lawn to be "a great park devoid of misshapen monuments and other signs of earthly death, but filled with towering trees, sweeping lawns, splashing fountains, beautiful statuary, and ... memorial architecture" - ref

Ed at Jack Kerouac's grave

So in a cemetery filled with flat markers, how do visitors even find the graves of their loved ones? If the grounds are not maintained, grass and dirt can just cover them up! And what about all the states where it snows? I can see Forest Lawn not needing to concern itself with this, but the Barrymore and Spungen graves are in the Northeast part of the U.S. - Pennsylvania, in fact. It snows here! And what about Jack Kerouac's flat stone in Lowell, Massachusetts? Do you just not go and visit your loved ones' graves in the winter? (Click here for an amusing video of an adventure in the snow.)

Granted, my trip to Glendale was in the early 1990s, and the Internet was not yet the wealth of information that it is today.Websites like FindAGrave.com now help us in our quest. During a current search for comedian Sam Kinison's burial place, I was surprised to find these directions!

Burial: Memorial Park Cemetery
Tulsa,Tulsa County
Oklahoma, USA
Plot: Section 28 - Garden of the Apostles in the SE quad. GPS coordinates are N 36°05.095 W 095°52.814.

I think I'll end my little rant here with a story about Spungen's grave, and how Sid Vicious' mom wanted to bury his ashes there. The punk rock musician from the Sex Pistols supposedly stabbed his girlfriend Nancy Spungen to death in their suite at the Chelsea Hotel in Manhattan in 1978. Spungen was laid to rest at King David Memorial Park, Bensalem (NE Philadelphia), in Bucks county, PA. Vicious was arrested for the murder, but never went to trial. Three months later while out on bail, he overdosed on heroin and died. His mom, Ann, and some close friends had Sid's body cremated and intended to fulfill Sid's wish: "When I die, bury me next to Nancy."

Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen, by Eileen Polk (ref.)

Spungen's mother, however, wanted no part of this, so the keepers of Sid's ashes attempted to do what my family has done in the past - illegally bury them on another person's plot. As bizarre as the following account is, I can relate. (Read about my own bizarre experiences disposing of family cremains here and here). Eileen Polk describes the experience in the book, Please Kill Me, The Uncensored Oral History of Punk; Polk was a photographer and friend of Sid and Nancy.

We're standing at the gravesite and it was snowing. We were all crying. We just said some prayers and left some flowers.Then we drove around to the other edge of the cemetery. We parked the car and Ann [Sid Vicious' mother] took the ashes, went over the fence, back to the gravesite, and dumped Sid's ashes on Nancy's grave. Then she came back and got in the car and said, 'Well, they're finally together.' And that was that.

Further Reading:

Read my other two Cemetery Traveler blog postings about disposing of cremains:
Nana's Ashes
Ceramic Death Portraits

About Forest Lawn Cemeteries, from Wikipedia:

"Forest Lawn's 300 acres of intensely landscaped grounds and thematic sculptures were the inspiration for the biting commentary of Evelyn Waugh's satirical novel The Loved One and Jessica Mitford's acerbic The American Way of Death. Many commentators have considered Forest Lawn to be a unique American creation, and perhaps a uniquely maudlin Los Angeles creation, with its 'theme park' approach to death."

Many thanks to Melanie Hoch at REPO records in Philadelphia for inspiration for this article.