The Cemeteries of Baltimore, Maryland

Chapel, Greenmount Cemetery

No one is ever going to rewrite Led Zeppelin’s, “Going to California” as “Going to Baltimore” (with an achin’ in my heart… ). However, I am quite passionate about Baltimore’s Cemeteries. In this post, I’m going to attempt to tell you why. I was just interviewed by American Cemetery & Cremation magazine for an article they published on “cemetery bloggers,” and the interviewer asked me if I had any favorite cemeteries. I had to say that most of them are in Baltimore, which surprised the author, Alexandra Kathryn Mosca. 

The interview is in the June 2024 issue, if you want to pop down to your local 7-Eleven and pick up a copy. There is a link at the end of this post to view the article electronically, compliments of the publisher, Kates-Boylston Publications. The article is called “Cemetery Bloggers – Blending History and Reverence.” 

American Cemetery & Cremation

Alexandra is from New York and is very passionate about New York City’s many wonderful cemeteries. New York has some glorious Victorian-era sculpture gardens, on the Mount Auburn garden cemetery plan - for example, Green-Wood in Brooklyn and Woodlawn in the Bronx. Mount Auburn, by the way, was the first rural garden cemetery in the U.S. (est. 1831), modeled after Paris’ Pere LeChaise Cemetery (est. 1804), the first garden cemetery. This was followed by Philadelphia’s Laurel Hill in 1836. Garden cemeteries sprang up all over the nation. Baltimore has a lovely “rural” cemetery – as these arboreal sculpture gardens were originally called – Greenmount Cemetery (est. 1838). They were called rural because they were originally built outside the city limits. With the rapid growth of American cities in the mid and late 1800s, these rural cemeteries quickly became inner-city cemeteries. It’s a testament to our culture and society that these wonderful places still exist. And speaking of culture and society, people need to lose any parti pris they may have about Baltimore. There is more to this city than the "Inner Harbor" and John Waters (with all respect to Mr. Waters).

Druid Ridge Cemetery (infrared E4 film image made in 2002)

There are vast burial grounds in Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx that rival Baltimore’s magnificent sculpture gardens; however, in my cemetery travels across the U.S., I’ve not seen Baltimore’s equal. My “favorite cemeteries” reply surprises a lot of people who have asked me that question over the twenty-five years I’ve been photographing cemeteries. If you like Victorian garden cemeteries, and you like them densely packed with marble monuments as far as the eye can see, then Baltimore is for you. Loudon Park Cemetery in Baltimore, at 500 acres, is actually larger than either Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn or Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx.

New Cathedral Cemetery, Baltimore

If you want star power, sure, New York is the clear winner. Celebrities, business magnates, mobsters – NY’s got the lion’s share. You’d have to go to Chicago or California to find its equal. But if you want to stroll endlessly through grounds densely packed with wonderful Victorian-era marble sculptures, magnificent Gothic mausoleums, and winged bronze angels, Baltimore is the clear winner. Recently, I was so overwhelmed upon entering Baltimore’s New Cathedral Cemetery (photo below), that I just laughed at the sheer sweeping vista of statuary in my field of vision. The deep, broad landscape pans around you like an iMax movie. I was so stunned that I failed to capture the scene photographically – I just walked, wide-eyed and dazed through the labyrinth of monuments. 

New Cathedral Cemetery, Baltimore (Photo by Rachel Bailey)

Luckily, my friend Rachel (IG @photosofcemeteries) was better able to maintain a discerning and objective eye and in so doing, captured the sweeping landscape you see here in a way that I wished I had. Master photographer Robert Capa said, “If your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough.” Well, this obviously does not hold true in all cases! My photographs of the statuary and architecture in Baltimore cemeteries suffer from my being too close to my subject! I need to step back, literally. Live and learn. I think this is necessary to capture the full effect of the scene presented to you. One of my photographer heroes, Mary Ellen Mark, said, “It’s not when you press the shutter, but why you press the shutter.”

Calvary Cemetery in Queens, New York

To be fair, Calvary Cemetery (above) in Queens is massively impressive and jam-packed with Victorian monuments – and has an amazing view of Manhattan. It is similar in scope to Holy Redeemer and Loudon Park in Baltimore. One thing that Calvary lacks, however, that Baltimore cemeteries have in abundance, is access. For instance, New York’s cemeteries are so spread out, you could not visit Woodlawn and Calvary on the same day – unless you had a helicopter. In Baltimore, you can easily drive from Druid Ridge Cemetery to Prospect Hill Cemetery (where entertainer Divine is buried) in seventeen minutes (according to Google Maps). Baltimore’s cemeteries are so close, you can’t swing a cat without hitting one (to paraphrase Mark Twain).

Divine's grave, Prospect Hill Cemetery

The main advantage of Baltimore’s cemeteries compared to those of NYC, is that they are easily accessible by car. The Evergreens Cemetery in Brooklyn and Woodlawn in the Bronx are fabulous places, but the traffic and logistical planning one must contend with to access these destinations can be mind-boggling at times. Once, years ago, my brother and I made a trip to NYC to visit Woodlawn Cemetery. At Grand Central, we got on the wrong train and mistakenly headed out to Long Island! By the time we got back to Grand Central, it was too late in the day to get to Woodlawn. Mission aborted. In Baltimore, even the most immense and intense burial grounds are immediately accessible! Baltimore City Cemetery is five minutes from Baltimore Hebrew Cemetery which is five minutes from Holy Redeemer Cemetery – all on the same road! 

Gardens of Faith Memorial Gardens, Baltimore

Now, being from Philadelphia, I would be remiss were I not to mention the grand cemeteries like Laurel Hill, Mount Moriah, and The Woodlands. These are large Victorian-era rural cemeteries like Mount Auburn outside Boston, and like New York’s Green-Wood and Woodlawn cemeteries. All are amazing, serene, finely landscaped and picturesque sculpture gardens, patterned after Père Lachaise. A main difference between all these and Père Lachaise, I now realize, is that the monuments, mausoleums, and other grave markers in Père Lachaise seem to be more densely-packed than what you typically see in American garden cemeteries. It is more like what one finds in the cemeteries of Baltimore, e.g. in Greenmount and Baltimore City Cemetery. 

Holy Redeemer Cemetery, Baltimore (Photo by Rachel Bailey)

Here's another example above of a sweeping Baltimore landscape, Holy Redeemer Cemetery (again, photographed by @photosofcemeteries, not yours truly). Holy Redeemer, by the way, must have the largest abandoned cemetery chapel I’ve ever seen – the green-domed building in this photograph. (Psst …if you look through the keyhole in the red door, you can see inside! But take a real camera with a zoom. Thanks to Teresa @teresacast for pointing this out.)

Greenmount Cemetery

What prompts me to write about Baltimore’s cemeteries at this time, is my friends. I’d been extolling the virtues of these places for twenty years to anyone who asked, but it has only been since 2023 that many of my Philadelphia-area cemetery photography friends began making the hour-and-a-half trip to the Land of the Crab Cake. However, I don’t know that anyone ever went to Baltimore based on my suggestion. Small groups of these cemetery photographers, as well as individuals, have been exploring Baltimore cemeteries over the last year or so. 

Loudon Park Cemetery

One member of our group discovered Baltimore’s treasures years ago on her own. She photographs there on a regular basis. It was at her insistence that many of the others in our group followed suit. It really had nothing to do with my influence. This is really a joy for me to experience, actually – I’m watching others discover their passion for these cemeteries as I had done in the early 2000s. And as I am a part of this group of photographers, this has rekindled my interest and love of these destinations.

I say we ‘discovered” Baltimore’s cemetery gems as if no one knew they were there. While its true that most people may be unaware of their existence, most of these properties – large and small – are well-maintained. It is not the case that any of them are neglected or abandoned. The general public is simply unaware of their existence, or just does not care, and I can appreciate that. I fall into the small category of people who do care. And I appreciate the fact that the city, synagogues, churches, and other organizations maintain these sacred spaces, preserving the dignity of those who are buried within their grounds.

Greif family angel, Baltimore Hebrew Congregation Cemetery

Some of Baltimore’s cemeteries, like Baltimore Hebrew Congregation Cemetery, are walled in, gated and locked – only accessible by checking in at the gatehouse. This keeps the contents, as well as its visitors, safe. By the way, it’s unusual to find an angel in a Jewish cemetery. But this relatively small place has numerous life-sized bronze angels and other effigy sculptures that are simply amazing. Here’s a 2004 photo of me with one. She’s still there if you’d like to stop by for a dance.

Author in Baltimore Hebrew Cemetery, 2004.

I suppose Baltimore’s cemeteries have a deeper meaning for me. I explored these burial grounds back in the early to mid-2000s, when my life was going through an upheaval and I needed alone time with my camera. “All art, like all love, is rooted in heartache,” photographer Alfred Stiegletz said. Walking these many arboreal sculpture gardens alone was therapeutic for me. I saw, touched, and walked amidst exquisite art that I never knew existed. Artwork that most people do not know exists. Sometimes you just have to create your own happiness. 

Greenmount Cemetery

I was happy – actually thrilled – when I happened upon this marble statue (at left) in Greenmount Cemetery, probably around 2004. It confused me, and after photographing it, I spent years researching its meaning. Hercules now graces my business card. From what I’ve determined, this is him as a child, wearing the lion’s skin that he wore as an adult (after killing the monstrous Nemean lion). I surrounded myself with such quiet beauty while the world threw so much ugliness at me. It was a coping mechanism. Maybe some of my current friends can relate to that. Maybe Baltimore’s cemeteries were protection, of sorts, for me, like Hercules’ lion skin that was impervious to attack.

Legend has it that Hercules killed the lion by strangling it with his bare hands, as he could not damage it with arrows or clubs. He then skinned the lion and used it for a protective cloak - ref.)

The group meetups are a relatively new thing for me, which we began as an Instagram meetup of like-minded cemetery photographers during COVID. As of mid-2024, the idea has stood the test of time, with new people joining regularly. Truly lovely people. When I see them become excited about the cemetery adventures we plan, it can be a rather joyous feeling. They inspire me.

Our IG Meetup at Westminster Hall, Baltimore, July 2024

Back when I discovered Baltimore’s cemeteries around Y2K, you had to use paper maps for guidance. Now with GPS camera phones and Google Maps, locating cemeteries has become easier. Locating graves within a cemetery has become easier! One of my friends taught me how to use Google image search, see locations using metadata, and download the Find-A-Grave ap. I’m no Luddite, but technology improves so quickly that its hard to keep up. Its great to have friends who do keep up, and are willing to share! One of my friends seems to be on a personal mission to find all of Baltimore’s cemeteries, and she has found more than I knew existed. This is like a treasure hunt if you are a cemetery photographer. One such gem is Western Cemetery (photo below), which, until the spring of 2024, I was totally unaware of!

Western Cemetery, Baltimore

While Philadelphia, my home town, has a plethora of wonderful cemeteries, it has nothing to compare with the huge burial grounds of New York and Baltimore. But wait, Baltimore itself isn’t that big, right? Smaller than Philly, much smaller than New York. So why does it have so many enormous cemeteries? You know what? I don’t know. Maybe there’s a clue in what Baltimore film maker John Waters said, “So many great people are dead, and so many assholes I know are still alive. Karma's bullshit.”

Sculpture in Baltimore's Greenmount Cemetery

What I do know is that I’ve got more cemetery gems to explore down south with my friends. We’ll revisit my old haunts, plus find new ones thanks to inquisitive minds and Google Maps. Some Baltimore cemeteries, like the music of Pink Floyd, can be scary. Witness the Gothic Revival-style Westminster Hall and Burying Ground with its catacombs and Edgar Allen Poe tomb, and the somewhat overgrown Western Cemetery with its junkyard in the back. Be wary and wise because Baltimore never ceases to amaze ... shine on you crazy diamond.

💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎

Further Reading ....

Alexandra Mosca shared this link on Facebook related to her article on cemetery bloggers. She graciously interviewed me for her article. Link below:

Kates-Boylston Publications is generously offering non-subscribers complimentary digital access to June’s American Cemetery & Cremation magazine. This issue is filled with interesting articles such as ‘Picnic Time Again,’ which delves into the modern revival of 19th-century cemetery outings, a unique blend of grave visits and picnics. The issue also features my article on cemetery bloggers (of which I am one) and the reasons we chronicle the sometimes arcane stories of those who have gone before us. Here’s the link.

https://www.acm-digital.com/acm/library/item/june_2024_/4197300/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR0-ROlGbnG1doZFUPR709o3u3JGxtXEECdnUNDkEjUHoFURbkWbwKog0g0_aem_ZmFrZWR1bW15MTZieXRlcw

Charles Bukowski's Grave

I was in Los Angeles in June (2013), so of course, I ignored all the Stars Tours, the LaBrea Tar Pits, and the Whiskey-a-Go-Go, preferring to visit Charles Bukowski. Well, his grave, that is. I can’t say I’m a big fan of his writing, I’m more a fan of his style - which was in the stream-of-consciousness vein, a la Hunter Thompson. I like to do that myself. Bukowski often said “Don’t try,” and some would think he meant just let the words flow, don’t try to make sense of them. His wife, Linda, says it means don’t just try, but rather, DO.
  
“Dirty journalism” is the phrase some people use to describe Bukowski’s writing. Some of it borders on pornography (let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be reading his novel Women on an airplane and have your neighbor glance down at the words). Calling it misogynistic and crude is to put his prose mildly. According to Poeticus.com, Bukowski’s writing is “marked by an emphasis on the ordinary lives of poor Americans, the act of writing, alcohol, relationships with women and the drudgery of work.”

His poetry, however, is quite beautiful. Here are the opening lines from bang bang, a poem from his book Mockingbird Wish Me Luck:

"Absolutely seasamoid

said the skeleton

shoving his chalky foot

upon my desk;

and that was it

bang bang

he looked at me,

and it was my bone body

and I was what remained …"

So what did I expect to find at his grave site? Whatever it was that I was going to find, I suppose. Perhaps liquor bottles and cigarette butts, as I’d read in a few places (Bukowski was a heavy smoker and an alcoholic). In looking it up on the web ahead of time, I saw one reference to “Charles Bukowski’s mausoleum,” in Green Hills Memorial Park, but that turned out to be misinformation. He is buried in Green Hills, however, but not in a mausoleum. The memorial park (one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen) is in Palos Los Verdes, a suburb of Los Angeles to the south. (Bukowski lived nearby during the last few years of his life, with most of his life spent in L.A.) Being a memorial park, I really didn’t expect to see much of anything, except for acres of flush-to-the-ground grave markers. Such places seldom have statues and are not of the Victorian era, so they’ve never held much interest for me. Green Hills, though, was a bit different.

Green Hills Memorial Park, Palos Los Verdes, California

Driving through the expensive-looking driveway past the flower store to the guard’s booth, it was obvious that this place caters to the well-to-do (which I don’t believe “Hank” was, so I’m not sure why he’s here). Perfectly manicured lawns and rolling hills with gazebos, statues, and other memorials set Green Hills apart from any memorial park I’d ever seen. It was truly serene and respectful, with all the ambiance of a traditional cemetery. The memorial park, a relatively modern development in cemetery design (the first being California’s Forest Lawn in 1912), is usually a flat field that allows the grass to be cut with great ease – totally blasé. The sheer quantity of giant shade trees in Green Hills would seem to impose the traditional challenges in cemetery lawn care.

Lucky clover growing on pine cone near Bukowski's grave

Bukowski’s granite grave marker is just like the thousands of others at Green Hills: rectangular, flat, and flush-to-the-ground. So how did I find it? You can get some general directions off the Internet (“Oceanview” section), but not for the specific location of his grave. I asked the guard at the entrance booth. Actually there were two gentlemen, both of whom were very helpful. Still, I had difficulty finding it amongst a hundred or so graves in “Oceanview.” The name, by the way, is kind of a misnomer - although his grave on the hillside does indeed face the Pacific Ocean, there is a mountain range in the way. The ocean is a couple miles from here. You can’t actually see it.

"Don't Try,"  ... do!

Wandering around the section photographing the grave markers here and there, I was struck by the individuality in the designs. I’ve never seen that anywhere else. Most of the plates were metal, and were embossed with waterfalls, trees, and other bucolic scenes. Some even had short epitaphs. Finally, a grounds keeper came up the road in a little cart and I flagged him down. He knew Bukowski’s marker was around here somewhere, and we walked around a bit without finding it. Then, another worker came up the road in a pickup truck. The first groundskeeper flagged him down and asked if he know where Bukowsi’s marker was. The fellow in the pickup replied, “The writer?”

Which reminds me of a blonde joke. But this really happened:

I was at work about ten years ago when two saleswomen came in to the department. One of my coworkers sat at a workbench just outside my office. I heard people talking so I went out to see who they were. One woman was blonde, the other brunette. The brunette pointed to my coworker and said to the blonde, “Doesn’t he remind you of Ernest Hemingway?” The blonde said, “The writer?” There’s a reason stereotypes exist.

Green Hills worker helping me find Bukowski's grave

Anyway, the first groundskeeper kept up the search ("Don't Try" - do!) and eventually found Bukowski’s grave marker for me. “Hank’s’” grave was devoid of whiskey bottles and beer cans, so I assume such litter is not a regular occurrence, otherwise the groundskeepers would’ve known exactly where the grave was. I did pick up a pine cone, however, from beneath a nearby tree. (The name “Hank” on the grave marker is short for Henry Charles "Hank" Chinaski, Bukowski’s literary alter ego, a character who appeared many time in Bukowski’s books). The 1987 movie, Barfly, was actually based on Chinaski's fictitious life and times.

In 1986, Time magazine called Bukowski the "laureate of American lowlife." After visiting his grave, I celebrated this by stopping for beer and ribs under a tent in a nearby Pep Boys parking lot. As I was eating dinner out of a Styrofoam container in my rental car I started thinking bizarre thoughts. You cannot help but think them when you’re contemplating Bukowski – dive bars in L.A., alcoholism, mortality and death - all in the warm California sun.

Moyamensing Prison, Philadelphia (ref)

Here’s what I thought of: writing about the connections I have to famous people, no matter how many times removed. Charles Bukowski spent seventeen days in Philadelphia’s Moyamensing Prison in 1944 on suspicion of draft evasion. My connection? I live on Moyamensing Avenue, a few blocks from where the prison once stood here in South Philadelphia (it was torn down in 1968). There’s an ACME supermarket there now, and I shop in it. Another, somewhat more famous writer, Edgar Allen Poe, also spent some time here (the prison, not the ACME) for public drunkenness in 1849.

Reference and Further Reading:
Charles Bukowski bio on Poeticous.com

Moyamensing Prison on Popturf 
IMDb bio on Bukowski
"Don't Try"

Green Hills Memorial Park website

Barfly, the 1987 movie based on Bukowski's literary alter ego, Henry Chinaski

How Monument Cemetery was Destroyed

Concrete crypt being removed from Monument Cemetery, 1956

By the summer of 1956, the job of clearing Monument Cemetery was well under way. Bodies had already been removed from one section of the old grave yard. At that time, the University referring to it as PROGRESS, stated that "the old cemetery...will provide much needed parking space by fall." - Things that Aren't There Anymore

Betsy Ross Bridge in background

After my photo excursion to find the last remains of Philadelphia’s Monument Cemetery, I was overwhelmed with questions – my own as well as those posed by my readers. Questions like, how could some entity (Temple University, in this case) just buy a cemetery and build a parking lot over it? Was the cemetery actually abandoned?  Supposedly, all the bodies were removed, but how did they do that? And the families were okay with it? When this happened in 1956, the cemetery was over a century old – did they contact the relatives of the 28,000 people buried there? Why were all the monuments and headstones dumped into the Delaware River? I get a weird feeling now whenever I drive over the Betsy Ross Bridge, like its somehow sacrilegious that granite tombstones are part of its foundation.

They say the universe is finite, contained, and searchable, so, in an attempt to find answers, I paid a visit to the Pennsylvania Historical Society in Philadelphia. I knew from past visits here and to the Library Company of Philadelphia next door, that they had certain records related to area cemeteries. Once I got into the Historical Society to begin my research, I was amazed to find hundreds of bound volumes (handwritten as well as copied) of burial records and tombstone inscriptions from more cemeteries than I thought existed, along with all their original deeds, charters, and annual reports. There were also vintage brochures and guidebooks (c. 1850) printed by the large Victorian garden cemeteries for advertising purposes. You can actually peruse these wonderful parchment-like and very fragile volumes from the Laurel Hill, Woodlands, and Mt. Vernon cemeteries in Philadelphia. Wonderful lithographs of monuments, chapels, and gatehouses adorn the pages, many of which are either no longer in existence or are so weather-worn as to be barely recognizable. It’s obvious that such documentation is necessary for accurate restoration of cemetery sculpture and monuments. After about half an hour of searching, I came upon a three-volume set of documentation related to Monument Cemetery.

In the set of burial records were tombstone inscriptions, an alphabetical listing of those interred, and legal documentation for the property. At the end of Vol. I, there were dozens of copied newspaper clippings related to the battle to close the cemetery (mid-1950s). As I read through these clippings, certain things became clear – I better understood how a cemetery could be made to disappear.

In a nutshell, the cemetery had not been abandoned, it was destroyed. Bodies were reinterred elsewhere and most of the tombstones and monuments were dumped into the Delaware River, to be used as foundation rock for when the city built the Betsy Ross Bridge. In my previous blog, “The Watery Remains of Monument Cemetery,” I wrote about my excursion to find the stones, which are visible at low tide. Visible with a bit of work, that is. You can’t just look down into the water and see them as you drive across the bridge.

How did Temple University acquire Monument Cemetery?
 

As the universe expands, so do universities. In the 1950s, Temple was developing itself into a commuter school, and needed more parking – and those 15 acres across the street were just being wasted on a cemetery. They’d actually been trying to acquire the cemetery since 1928, but continually met with resistance from the cemetery’s owners. 

 

Nearly bankrupt cemetery railroaded into oblivion?

According to records, the owners of Monument Cemetery only had about $11,000 in assets by 1953. This was barely enough income for the owners to provide necessary maintenance to the buildings and upkeep to the graves. With no new plots sold since 1929, there had been little income for 24 years (the only available burial space was in lots that had been previously sold). The cemetery had been in business for 114 years, and its 15 acres were filled to capacity with 28,000 graves. As a result, the cemetery physically deteriorated to the point where it invited vandalism. The owners were actively trying to sell it, but were “insensed” at potential buyers’ (including Temple) plans for the land. Eventually Temple lobbied the city government to condemn it, and ended up acquiring it after that occurred. According to the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin of May 28, 1953, public hearings were held in which “a number of persons” testified that “the cemetery was now a haven for rats, criminals, tramps, and sex offenders.” (Kind of sounds like the North Philly that we know today.)

It appears that legal title passed from the owners of Monument Cemetery to the City of Philadelphia, but I could find no record of the amount the owners were compensated. Once a government determines that private property is needed for the completion of a public project (Temple is a public, i.e. state school), that property is likely going to be lost (ref). The property owner is entitled to fair compensation for the loss, but it appears that Monument’s owners received far less (if anything). Kind of like when my grandmother's house was taken through "eminent domain" by a local municipality so that a playground could be built. 

Estimated value of the land in the part of Philadelphia in which Monument Cemetery was situated was about $40,000 per acre, making the cemetery’s 15 acres worth about $600,000. Temple had previously stated that it could not afford to buy the land at that price. As Lawnview Cemetery (in Rockledge, a Philadelphia suburb) was later awarded a $700,000 contract by the city for “the transfer and perpetual care of the bodies,” I find it hard to believe the city paid Monument’s owners anything for the land.

 
Did they actually remove the bodies?

Well, if you can believe the newspapers, yes. But who knows? The crane in the top photo shows a concrete crypt being hoisted out of the ground, but what of the thousands of older burials that only had wooden coffins? I began to wonder what sort of notifications were sent to families whose loved one were buried there… eviction notices? Did they board up the periphery of the cemetery so people couldn’t see the coffins coming out of the ground? Did people care? I had to find out, and as I could find nothing on the topic online, I hoped the Historical Society would provide. 

The dozens of newspaper clippings mentioned above cover the final two years of the cemetery’s existence – from 1954 (when its fate was mired in political intrigue) to 1956 (when the cemetery was condemned, given to Temple, and dug up). During the time that the cemetery’s owners were trying to sell it in above-board fashion, Temple had made low offers, and was turned down. In its relentless quest for the land, Temple resorted to political tactics to have the ground condemned, while maintaining an air of empathy by declaring that if it acquired the cemetery, it would also have to dig up Temple's founder, Dr. Russell Conwell, and his wife, who were buried there. In the end, they moved those graves across the street near Conwell Hall (where I used to go to pay my daughter’s tuition).

How were lot holders notified?

Apparently, the majority were not. But first, let’s do some math. In 1954 when the cemetery owners sent out mailings to lot holders announcing the likelihood that graves would have to be moved when the cemetery was sold, they only had reliable contact information for 748 families - out of 28,000 burials. Of these 748, only 400 lot holders responded to mailings – 300 of whom met to vote on which cemetery they would want their ancestors moved to. Two cemeteries bid on the contract − Lawnview Cemetery and Philadelphia Memorial Park in Frazer, PA. Lawnview was chosen after a nine-month debate, mainly because it was closer to Monument Cemetery (more convenient for the lot holders) and it would charge less for removal of the bodies.  

So only 300 family plots were moved to Lawnview along with their monuments and headstones. I would assume that some of the remaining 100 of the contacted lot holders had their loved ones moved privately to different cemeteries at their own expense. But the vast majority of the 28,000 bodies, it seems, went unclaimed! 

In order to clear the land of human remains and stonework, 28,000 bodies had to be re-located, about 20,000 of which were unclaimed. These 20,000 – a staggering number − were the ones that were quietly dumped into a large mass grave at Lawnview Cemetery. Their monuments and any of the elaborately carved stonework that hadn't been claimed by relatives were sold to developers, and hauled to the river to be used as part of the foundation to build the Betsy Ross Bridge (construction was completed in 1976). Monuments, including major works of art by 19th century sculptors, were dumped into the river to be used as “riprap” (granite or concrete rubble from building and paving demolition commonly used to protect shorelines from water or ice erosion).

Did the public care what was going on?

Historian Tom Keels says, “…in the 1950s it was, 'This is an old moldy Victorian cemetery. Who cares.'"

“The way cemeteries and their occupants were treated after World War II was shocking. The city was in flux. It was losing jobs, it was losing people and there was a decision early on that the city was going to redevelop at least its central area. It was going to reinvent itself as a neo-colonial city. Society Hill and Independence Mall were constructed, while hundreds of Victorian buildings were razed ‘because 18th century was good, Victorian was bad.’ Unfortunately, this extended to many Victorian cemeteries. – Tom Keels

Forgotten graves?  Not totally.

But what of the people whose loved ones were buried at Monument, who were not aware of its closing? Many of my current readers are appalled by what happened to this cemetery, shocked by the callousness of a modern society. Looking back, it seems that it all occurred precisely because of the modernism of our society and how we value “progress.” It all sounds like Temple and the City of Philadelphia tied up Monument Cemetery in a neat little package and everyone was happy. Today, it’s a different story, as I come upon these chilling posts on the reader forum of Geneology.com:

"they say there is a mass grave .. where is it and where are the babies that were buried there as there was so many of my family buried there too..why didn't anyone fight it and how could they get away with this? i can't believe the things i read about it as i look for my family .."

"hello thank you i went to find a grave and lawnview and typed in my family name but nothing..came up. do they have a list from monument and where all the people from monument were reburied. at least they could have done that. so many of my family was buried there. a lot of babies from years ago. a few made it to arlington but not many. thank you and i don't know how they could do things like this ..isn't anything sacred..? i sure appeciate your help. thank you again  -alice"

"Monument Cemetery. This is where my ancestors-Wareham- had a large family plot. It was removed and built over by Temple University. What a shame ! If you are connected to this family, please reply. Jeanie "

More about the 1956 dumping of tombstones into the river.

As I mentioned in my previous blog posting, “The Watery Remains of Monument Cemetery,” my friend Leo and I trekked out to the river last month and found the site of the discarded tombstones from Monument Cemetery. We only actually found about 50 exposed whole grave markers, so the rest must must be either buried, drowned, or reduced to rubble. When you think about it, roughly twenty thousand bodies were unclaimed, so there had to be several thousand gravemarkers discarded.

Sartain Monument (Univ of Penn)

Supposedly, John Sartain's Egyptian-style monument was dumped into the Delaware and is now part of the bridge. Sartain was one of the original designers of Monument Cemetery; he and his family were buried there. Sartain’s is not a name with which I was familiar, but to whom the literary world owes a debt of gratitude. He was Edgar Allen Poe’s friend, colleague, and publisher while Poe lived in Philadelphia.

John Sartain was a true renaissance man – publisher, engraver, artist, and architect. He was responsible for the design of Monument Cemetery’s gatehouse and the cemetery’s immense (over 70 feet high) central monument to George Washington and General Lafayette (seen at left being dismantled). According to Sartain’s autobiography, The Reminiscences of a Very Old Man, “Monument Cemetery” derived its name from this monument. Sartain’s own memorial (seen above in front of the base of the Washington monument in a 1954 photograph) lives with the fishes - supposedly dumped as unceremoniously as the rest of the stones.

Sartain's Union Magazine featured the first publication of Poe’s haunting poem, Annabel Lee, which is about a rivalry that resulted in a watery death. Makes you wonder what horrors Poe could have conjured with the idea of unearthing 28,000 graves and dumping their tombstones into the river. But then he probably would never have conceived of anything so bizarre – or did he?

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea. 

- from Annabel Lee, by Edgar Allan Poe



 

References for Further Reading:

The Watery Remains of Monument Cemetery

Temple University Photo Archives

Pennsylvania Historical Society Monument Cemetery For Sale

Geneology.com

The Reminiscences of a Very Old Man, by John Sartain (1808-1897)

Things that Aren't There Anymore - Temple University Edition

John Sartain Bio, Encyclopedia Britannica 

End of the Road-Philadelphia Graveyards