"The Lonely Bones" (A Film)

Last week a good friend sent me the following one-line email: “Since you like cemeteries … a brother of a friend did this.” Attached was a press release announcing the world premier of a film called, The Lonely Bones. Apparently Dave knew the film maker’s brother, and although Dave didn't realize it, I knew the film maker.

Evergreen Cemetery, Camden, NJ

A year or so ago I drove into the pseudo-abandoned Evergreen Cemetery in Camden, New Jersey, only to find a man and a teenage boy (turned out to be his son) near the entrance working a video camera on a tall tripod. Given the fact that during recent visits to Evergreen, I’ve either avoided drug dealers or have been propositioned by prostitutes, this was a welcome change. 

Johnson Cemetery "Park"

Curious, I introduced myself and briefly asked what they were up to. The man, Kevin Walker, explained that he was making a documentary about another abandoned Camden cemetery – Johnson Cemetery on the other side of town – and he needed some background footage. I wished him luck and was quite appreciative that he told me about Johnson, which he referred to as “Needle Park.” Subsequently, I made two visits to the Johnson Cemetery which you can read about in my two blog postings: Abandoned Cemetery ... or just Repurposed?  and Lost Civil War Graves of the Johnson Cemetery. 

Jacob Johnson marker

After seeing Johnson, I realized why Mr. Walker needed background footage – Johnson no longer looks like a cemetery. This former burial ground for African-American Civil War veterans had fallen into such a sad state of disrepair that Camden, um, turned it into a park in the early 1980s. Graves were supposedly moved to other area cemeteries and the land planted with grass and park benches. The thing that really weirded me out was the fact that the old headstones were lying flat in the grass face up, like so many paving stones in a garden walkway. The only upright stone was this rectangular marble hunk with "Jacob Johnson, Died 1890" engraved on it.

Trash, dirt, leaves, and empty liquor bottles covered most of the flush headstones I found during my first visit. When I returned a couple weeks later, I met two women who were uncovering and cleaning off the stones. They actually dug them out of the ground, scraping an inch or so of soil and debris off each one. All they had was a plastic windshield ice scraper, and their camera battery had died. They asked me if I would photograph the names on the stones and send them the images, which I did. They were doing genealogical research, looking for links in their ancestral tree.

Civil War Veteran Headstone at Johnson Cemetery Park

As we cleaned off the stones, we noticed a dual arc pattern in which the stones had been laid, which made it easier to predict where to unearth the next stone. In all, I think we found about thirty. I was extremely curious about the cemetery and why it was turned into a "park," but information on the Internet is rather sketchy. This is why I so look forward to seeing Kevin Walker's film. When I contacted him, he was quite gracious and provided me with certain information you'll read in this article. Have a look at his movie trailer on YouTube, “The Lonely Bones: The Official Trailer.” I think you'll agree the movie needs to be seen.

The Lonely Bones will have its world premier at the Garden State Film Festival in Asbury Park, New Jersey, on March 25, 2012. Here's a bit of Kevin's promotional information:

"The Lonely Bones ... focuses on tiny Johnson Cemetery in East Camden.  Johnson holds the remains of over 120 members of the United States Colored Troops, the African American soldiers who fought valiantly for the Union during the Civil War.  Instead of being an object of veneration, however, the long-neglected cemetery has become a needle park -- a site strewn with bottles, debris and the discards of the drug trade.  'Unfortunately,' says Walker, 'what has happened to Johnson Cemetery is symptomatic of the broader problems facing Camden and urban America in general. I have tried to use the cemetery as a kind of trope to examine those issues.”

Camden Radio and Film Works

presents

“The Lonely Bones”

... A struggling city tries to reclaim its past …

When the nation called, they answered. Nearly 200,000 of them -- freemen and emancipated slaves -- flocked to the Union cause. Known as the United States Colored Troops, they fought valiantly during the Civil War.  They dispelled racial stereotypes and, in the view of many historians, helped propel passage of the 13^th, 14^th and 15^th Amendments, conferring civil rights on black citizens.

 

But today, the memory of scores of black Civil War veterans from New Jersey -- their legacy -- lies buried on another battlefield.

                                The Lonely Bones, Kevin Walker’s 30-minute documentary, focuses on tiny Johnson Cemetery in East Camden.  Johnson holds the remains of over 120 members of the United States Colored Troops.  Instead of being an object of veneration, however, the long-neglected cemetery has become a needle park -- a site strewn with bottles, debris and the detritus of the drug trade. A small group of activists and historians want to change that.  They see in Johnson’s salvation, the salvation of an entire city.

I look forward to seeing Kevin’s film. Personally, it might provide insight as to why I am drawn to abandoned cemeteries.

Further Reading:

Purchase tickets to see The Lonely Bones at the Garden State Film Festival
YouTube link to: “The Lonely Bones: The Official Trailer.”

Johnson Cemetery blog postings by Ed Snyder on The Cemetery Traveler:
Abandoned Cemetery ... or just Repurposed?
Lost Civil War Graves of the Johnson Cemetery

The Lost Civil War Graves of the Johnson Cemetery

The photographs that accompanied the blog related to my initial visit to the abandoned Johnson Cemetery were not my best (see link below). I know that’s like the cardinal sin of the public speaker—apologizing that he had a memory lapse and left something out. Regardless, after that first visit to this abandoned/repurposed Cemetery “Park” in Camden New Jersey, I lost one of my camera’s memory cards. The images on that card were better than the ones I published. So with a heavy heart (and much profanity), I returned a week later in an attempt to recreate those better photos and slip them into the first article without you noticing. As I found out, you really can’t step in the same river twice, as they say. My second  Johnson experience was radically different.

No drug deals going down this time, just a pair of homeless guys hanging out at the ersatz main entrance. As it was late in the day, I went right to the headstones laid flush in the grass to get some better shots of them. I noticed that some of the stones had the surrounding dirt brushed away, as with a broom. I kicked some booze bottles out of the way and shot about five images, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two figures in overcoats moving quickly toward me with what looked like machetes.

Bracing myself, it turned out to be two women, maybe in their late thirties, each well-dressed and brandishing a long ice scraper/snow brush—the kind we northerners use to scrape the ice and snow off our automobile windshields on winter mornings. They came up to me and asked if I could take some photos of the tombstones for them! Guess I watch too many horror movies.

They said they were doing genealogical research and were looking for members of their family tree. One had a point-and-shoot digital camera, but she said the battery died. I said, sure, I’d shoot some images for them. They had just been to the dollar store to buy something to sweep off the stones and came back with these brush scrapers. The devices turned out to be quite the archeological tools with which to excavate many of the UNSEEN headstones! I hung out with them for about an hour while they continued sweeping off the exposed stones. During my prior visit, I counted about 20 partially exposed grave markers.

At one point I think it occurred to all of us at the same time that there was a pattern to the way the stones were laid out, sort of in a long, gradual curve, from the northeast corner of the cemetery toward the center. There were spaces between some of the stones so one of the ladies flipped her instrument over and began using the ice scraper end to dig through the dry, grassy dirt. About an inch or so down came the unmistakable sound of plastic on stone! The soil was so thin, it was relatively easy to scrape it away. I watched and photographed with amazement as they unearthed about six additional stones--it was like finding buried treasure.

Periodically people would walk by, entering or exiting through the mangled cyclone fence that separated the cemetery from the projects. They seemed to pay us no mind. The two homeless guys kept their vigil on the bench near the road the entire time. One of the ladies told me about her research and visits to many south Jersey cemeteries, and finding hundreds of relatives to fill out her family tree. She was quite excited to find the Johnson graves and told me about some small old churchyard burial spots in Mt. Laurel (NJ) that I may need to locate.

It’s my guess that wind and rain covered most of the Johnson headstones with dirt and debris over time; according to the fragmentary information available, over a hundred people are buried here. Two of the more decorative stones uncovered today are shown above, perhaps the first time anyone’s seen them in a decade or more. They are decorative to a degree, that is--the elaborateness of a grave marker being directly proportional to the affluence (and sometimes influence) of the deceased. I couldn't help but contrast in my mind these meager, sad stones with the opulent monument to (presidential candidate) John and Elizabeth Edwards'  teenage son, Wade. I had photographed this ten-foot high contemporary marble sculpture (below) at Oakwood Cemetery in Raleigh, North Carolina some years ago. The angel that cradles the lost son seems to elevate the value of that life over that of say, African-American veterans of the Civil War (the main inhabitants of Johnson Cemetery--see previous blog link below for detail). It's a skewed way of looking at things, but we often remember those with the biggest monuments, don't we?

Wade Edwards' Monument, Raleigh, NC

After a while, I counted the headstones, 30 in all, when one of the women made an astute observation—it looked as if there were actually TWO curved rows of stones! It was getting dark and chilly at that point and my camera battery had just died. I told them this project looked like it should be continued at some later date and was about to excuse myself. We traded contact information and said our goodbyes when I realized they had every intention of staying! Hmmm. Either they’re twin spectres of (Sir Walter Scott’s) “Old Mortality” or just naïve. I looked up the hill at the homeless guys and suggested the ladies not stay there much longer. They looked around and realized we were standing at the bottom of a gully beneath a grove of pine trees, not in plain view of the road—not the safest area to be after dark. The fact that they were well-dressed, drove an Acura SUV, and were not from the area, I assumed they didn’t know the place was nicknamed “Needle Park” and so I merely suggested they not remain there too much longer. The cold hard light of reality broke their genealogical reverie and they quickly followed me up the hill.

As we passed the benches at the entrance, the two homeless guys got up and hustled down to the benches close to where we’d been working. Apparently they had dibs on these as sleeping quarters--that’s why there were flattened beer case boxes laid out on the benches. These gents were about to enjoy the dead man’s sleep,  above the remains of a hundred forgotten and battle-scarred Civil War infantry and naval servicemen. As I drove away, I thought of the recent popular song “In the Room Where You Sleep,” by the band Dead Man’s Bones, and these lyrics in particular:

"There's something in the shadows
in the corner of your room.
A dark heart is beating

and waiting for you.

There is no open window, but the floors still creep.

In the room where you sleep.

In the room where you sleep......"





Further Links of Interest:

First Visit to the Johnson Cemetery

Listen to the song “In the Room Where You Sleep,” by the band Dead Man’s Bones 
Dead Man’s Bones’ Website

Scary Cemeteries

It’s October, and with Halloween just a few weeks away, I thought I’d get in the mood by scaring myself. So I took a drive to Camden, New Jersey. I’ve made photographs in some of the city’s run down graveyards over the years and thought I’d check a few out. While looking for Old Camden Cemetery, I took a wrong turn (pretty much any turn is the wrong one in Camden…) and ended up at Evergreen Cemetery, a mile or so away. If there is a bad side of town, this is it. 

Evergreen has long been a favorite haunt of mine, just up the road from the “Liquorama” liquor supermarket. Prior to Evergreen being taken over by ‘new’ management, it had a brush-painted plywood sign attached to the front gate warning “No unauthorized burials allowed.” That’s class. A decade ago, not much groundskeeping was evident—grass and weeds ran rampant, trees had fallen over. The place lived up to its name, being ever green. Back then it was just forgotten; now it seemed defiled and desecrated. Much like the surrounding neighborhood, its condition had worsened. As the Greek proverb goes, you can’t step into the same river twice.

Apparently, someone now cuts the grass. But that’s about it. Graffiti is an immense eyesore and the fence along Mt. Ephriam Avenue is broken through in many places. Trash is everywhere and monuments have been knocked over. Some are protected by the same security wrought iron as the row homes across the street.

Seemingly without concern for the cemetery’s plight, a neighborhood festival was going on across the street while I was there, with BBQ, music, and crowds. There were two guys filming in the cemetery. They seemed to be concentrating on the graffiti and piles of broken bottles. I asked what they were up to and was told that they were getting background footage for a documentary on the need for restoring Camden’s cemeteries. Apparently, Evergreen is one of the better ones—the one most in need was across town, Johnson Cemetery, otherwise known as ‘Needle Park.’ People think there aren’t frontiers any more, but they are all around us.

I drove around looking for photo-worthy scenes, and came upon a guy walking around inside the cemetery, near the northwest corner of the grounds. He was just inside the torn down fence separating the cemetery from Mt. Ephraim Avenue, plainly in view of the crowd. There are some old and rather expensive-looking monuments in the area, along with the wolf table you see here, hidden by the bushes. Though the fellow was dressed well enough, you wouldn’t mistake him for Henry II doing penance at Beckett’s tomb. I imagine if you wanted to score some dope, he’d be your man. The wolf table had become his little den of iniquity. Don't even think about law enforcement in this area of town! With Camden having laid off half its police force due to budget cuts, the forty dispatched Guardian Angels are barely enough to patrol the city's higher crime areas. A while later I was propositioned by a hooker. In the cemetery.

 “Ya married? Faithful? Can ya let me earn $4?” I was getting a bit depressed about the whole scene, so I decided to leave and drive over to Harleigh Cemetery, where Walt Whitman is buried. The interaction also reminded me of the seamier side of Whitman’s poetry.

Harleigh is a bucolic spot in the midst of, well, Camden. About a mile from Evergreen, it is a beautiful and well-maintained garden cemetery, with rolling hills and large weeping willows in and around its ponds. These Victorian symbols of grief, mourning, and sorrow seem more attuned to the city’s urban blight that to the many souls at rest under its soil. Just inside the front gate, down to the left in a shady dell, is the Whitman family mausoleum. This leafy restful spot where people have for years carved their initials in the surrounding trees seems so at odds with the squalor of the city. 

Standing in front of Whitman’s crypt, I thought about how he addressed the human condition without ever seeming judgmental. Whitman was really much more prolific than "O Captain! My Captain!," the metaphorical poem (about Lincoln’s assassination) you were forced to read in high school. You may recall him as being the father of “free verse,” and maybe even that he was politically active. However, he was not averse to crafting poems about city life, modernity, and technological change, not to mention (hetero and homo) sexuality in his life-work of poetry, “Leaves of Grass.” 

Regarding the latter topic, consider the Leaves of Grass passage, “To a Common Prostitute.” If there ever was a poem that on its surface seems self-explanatory, it is this:

To a Common Prostitute BE composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature;
Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you;
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you.
My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to meet me,
And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till I come.
Till then, I salute you with a significant look, that you do not forget me.

Whitman seems to be compassionately stating that a prostitute is a human too, her work a craft. The woman he writes about, while on the bottom rung of the social ladder, is recognized as an equal in a deep sense. On thinking about his non-judgmental stance, it occurs to me that the entire Evergreen situation, if not the collective trashing of the city, could be seen in the same light. While I’d prefer things to be forgotten rather than destroyed, in the end, its simply survival of the fittest. Whitman wrote, “For what is my life, or any man’s life, but a conflict with foes.”

Some links you may find interesting:

Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" online

Harleigh Cemetery, Camden
Guardian Angels Sent to Patrol Camden
Guardian Angels 

Don't know what a "wolf table" is? Click here to go to my StoneAngels site and see what the wolf table in this blog looked like in 2006.