Cemetery in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey

What’s a Jersey shore vacation without a trip to a local graveyard? As my family frequents the area around Long Beach Island, I’ve visited most of the local cemeteries. On this trip, I thought I’d see what’s up with the “closed” pet cemetery, noted on my iPhone’s Google Maps. Looked to be in Manahawkin between the on ramp to the Garden State Parkway and Whispering Oak Circle. So I left Beach Haven about 7:30 a.m. on an overcast Saturday morning, drove the seven miles north up the island, over the causeway and onto the mainland. About five miles west on Route 72 is where the Garden State Parkway crosses it. I cut off 72 toward Whispering Oak Circle. 

Try as I might, back and forth on this small residential street, and I just could not find the place. It was woods on one side, residences on the other. The woods just looked like they butted up to the parkway. Maybe Google Maps was in error. Ah well, good fail, as the skateboarders say.

Even though it was a further drive than I wanted to make on this early Saturday morning, I thought I might finally check out Reevestown cemetery, about an eight-mile drive north on Route 72. 

For several years, I had known about this remnant of the Pinelands, but had never visited. One reason being the inherent spookiness of the pine barrens. People living off the grid, down sand roads deep in the forest. Makes you feel a bit like Hansel and Gretel with the Jersey Devil playing the part of the wicked old witch. Especially after seeing mailboxes like this one along the road.

The pineys, as they are called, rather cultivate this mystique, in order to maintain their isolation from the masses, and probably especially from tourists. 

"WARNING..."

Google maps showed me where the Reevestown Cem was supposed to be. Passes a crumbled roadside memorial at the intersection of 72 and Warren Grove Road, where I made a left. I got to where Google Maps said the cemetery was, but …. Damn. Just a patch of woods. Oh well, maybe there’s something in there. So I pulled over, got out of my SUV, sprayed my shoes, socks (damn! Forgot to wear socks!), and pant legs with tick spray, and took one last look at Google Maps before venturing into the thicket. What? Now it shows the cemetery off an access road up ahead! Jump into the vehicle and head up the road a piece. And there it was off to the right, a sand road leading into the woods, with a rain puddle at the entrance to greet me. A very weathered “Warning” sign was nailed to a tree where the road led into the trees.

Sand road entrance to Reevestown Cemetery

As I write this, I’m sittin’ on the dock o’ the bay, cappuccino and raspberry scone in hand. Yesterday at this time, however, I was in full explorer mode. And truth be told, I was a bit uncomfortable there, having recently read the book, “The Pine Barrens,” by John McPhee (1978). All the legends, all the history, all the fables of the pine barrens – including the pineys, are covered in the book.

Reevestown Cemetery

I drove into the woods. The road took a few twists and then opened up onto a perfectly maintained small cemetery with old graves (starting around 1862) on the left, newer graves on the right. I imagine people continue to be buried here, even though there is no town for miles. Reevestown itself is no more – not even a ghost town. 

Reevestown Cemetery in Stafford Township, New Jersey, is deep in the heart of the pine barrens – just a few miles from the Pinelands unofficial “capital city,” Chatsworth. Reevestown is not exactly a ghost town - it’s actually no longer there. Destroyed by a massive forest fire in 1936, this small sawmill settlement (which I assume was called Reevestown, there really is no evidence of this that I could find) consisted of the mill, some houses, and a schoolhouse. The fire was the worst forest fire up to that point in the history of the Pinelands - it left five firefighters dead and 20,000 acres of forest, dwellings, and businesses burned (ref.). Reevestown was destroyed but the cemetery remained, and continues to be used, by locals I assume. There have been burials here in the past decade.

See the clipping below from “Union Township,” a report written by the Barnegat Historical Committee: (https://www.state.nj.us/dep/hpo/hrrcn_sandy_OCE_GB_147_148_PDF/OCE_GB_148_v34.pdf)

"A small sawmill settlement once was located near Reevestown Cemetery [which I assume was called Reevestown]. Today only cellar holes mark where buildings once stood. Only the cemetery remains intact. Saw mill, dwellings, and a schoolhouse were located here prior to a fire in 1936." 

Lone sentinel at sand road exit of cemetery

Somewhere online I read that if you live in the general area, you can be buried here. The cemetery has maybe a hundred plots, with many more people than that residing below. It seems to be kept up, but then, there is no grass or weeds to cut. Its all sand. The rules posted on the sign at the entrance to the property suggest a governing body of some sort, mentioning a Cemetery committee with officers and trustees, but there is no contact information. 

Grave decor

Note tree stand at top left.

Some graves here are recent, with lots of kitschy mementos. One even had deer antlers nailed to a nearby tree, with a hunter’s tree stand attached to the tree next to it! Deer hunting for food has long been a standard activity of the people who live in the pine barrens. They are for the most part isolated and self-reliant. Many of them work in the local cranberry bog and blueberry farms, and have for decades since the region’s main industries, glass making, lumber, and iron forging went bust.

Reevestown Cemetery is a serene place, that is, if you can get over your fear. Its just a little too quiet. That guy’s shotgun shell mailbox made me think of the scene from the Sopranos where they take the guy out to the pine barrens to kill him, where they try to get him to dig his own grave first. Out here, no trace would ever be found of you. But that’s Hollywood; whereas the pine barrens – and its inhabitants - are real.

Entrance to Reevestown Cemetery

Pine Forest Pet Cemetery

What’s a vacation without a trip to a cemetery? If you’re a regular reader of The Cemetery Traveler, you know that I usually combine family trips to the Jersey shore with a stop at a couple graveyards. This past July was no exception.

Now, I don’t subject my family to my eccentricities – I usually sate my cemeterial desires early in the morning, before my wife and six-and-a-half year old daughter awaken. This July trip was no exception. During a few days’ vacation on Long Beach Island, New Jersey, I took an early-morning trip inland, through Manahawkin, up Route 70, to the little rural town of Warren Grove. The Internet told me there was a pet cemetery there. Truth be told, without the GPS in my smartphone, I never would have found this place. The Pine Forest Pet Cemetery is so far off the beaten path that my GPS couldn’t map the roads through the Pine Barrens (the Wharton National Forest) when I got within a mile of the place.

Gazebo at center of  the Pine Forest Pet Cemetery

I found it though. Very rural, quite large (as pet cemeteries go) - 26 acres, says their website. It is very well-cared for, and tastefully appointed. A small gazebo at center, with maybe a hundred graves spread out from there. The pine forest surrounds it on three sides. The mostly canine grave markers (there are some felines too) are arranged in rows and are mostly flush-to-the-ground memorial park style, perhaps indicative of buried cremains. There were a few monuments, of sorts - heartfelt things, small sculptures, handmade remembrances, small plaster statues of dogs with wings.

"Wishbone," the Hearing-Ear Dog

If you stop and read some of the headstone inscriptions, epitaphs, you’ll agree some are incredibly poignant. Witness the inscription on the “hearing-ear dog” headstone above. At the back of the cemetery is a special K-9 grave plot, reserved for police dogs who had served on the Stafford Township, New Jersey police force. I was surprised to see this ceramic badge on several of the grave markers.

This is the same type of medallion used for the death portraits we see on humans' grave stones.

Established in 1984, “This serene twenty-six acre tract of land is nestled in the forest zone of the protected Pine Barrens. It has been set aside to honor our departed pets that fill our hearts and minds with loving memories.” - from the Pine Forest Pet Cemetery website

"Born to Love, Trained to Serve, Loyal to the End"

 

“Pet Memorial Sunday” – September 11, 2016

If you are a pet owner – I caught myself there – “pet owner” sounds a bit crass to describe the humans involved in this memorialization of their animals. I should instead say “If you have an animal companion”…. or are just interested in the type of person who would go to the trouble of creating a permanent memorial to an animal, consider a visit to Pine Forest Pet Cemetery the second Sunday of September. You can witness their annual “Pet Memorial Sunday" - this year, it will be held on September 11, 2016. See their link for more detail.

"Heaven is a bit brighter now"

If you ever wonder what might possess someone to cremate and bury their pet, just read this grave marker above to "Patches" and "JJ." It certainly gave me a few new things to think about. The poem below, Rainbow Bridge, gave me a lot more to think about. I had never seen this before. Apparently, there is an entire WORLD of pet grief-and-loss out there. You can read the poem, then check out this website, “Quest for the Rainbow Bridge,” which describes its purpose, its origins, its meaning to those who have lost an animal loved one. The poem, The Rainbow Bridge, is reproduced on Pine Forest Pet Cemetery‘s website.

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven lies the Rainbow Bridge.

When a beloved pet dies, it goes to the Rainbow Bridge.

It makes friends with other animals and frolics over rolling hills

And peaceful lush meadows of green. They are as healthy

And playful as we remember them in days gone by.

Together, the animals chase and play, but the day comes

When a pet will suddenly stop and look into the distance...

Bright eyes intent, eager body quivering.

Suddenly recognizing you, your pet bounds quickly

Across the green fields and into your embrace.

You celebrate in joyous reunion. You will never again separate.

Happy tears and kisses are warm and plentiful, your hands caress the face you missed.

You look into the loving eyes of your pet and know that you never really parted.

You realize that though out of sight, your love had been remembered.

You cross the Rainbow Bridge together.

Reference and Further Reading:
Pine Forest Pet Cemetery

Funeral and Memorial·

1285 Grays Rd

Warren Grove, NJ 08005

 609) 698-7600

http://www.pineforestpetcemetery.com/index.html

HEY JOE – A Rather Unusual Roadside Memorial

People mourn, grieve, remember, and memorialize the dead in countless ways. I can respect that. Recently, I happened upon a rather unusual rural memorial to the dearly departed. Rural roadside memorials have an advantage over urban memorials in the matter of sheer real estate. In the city, you’re pretty much contained to a telephone pole with a few bouquets of flowers placed around it. Out in the country, you can go large.

Author Ed Snyder (photo by Susan Argiro Spitz)

This week, we visit a memorial gorilla in south Jersey. Not just any gorilla, but a 25-foot high Fiberglas statue of a gorilla. Here's a photo of me (taken by my friend Susan Argiro Spitz) standing in front of the primate, just for size reference - I am six feet, two inches tall. When you see the name, "Mighty Joe," you might think of the King Kong-style giant gorilla, "Mighty Joe Young," star of the silver screen (1949). However, this is a memorial to a different Mighty Joe. The text on the gorilla's sign speaks for itself, a sad reminder of a lost son. I have transcribed the sign's text below.

Hello, 

My name is Mighty Joe

I have been placed here by the Valenzano family as a memorial

And to pay tribute to their son Joseph who now lives in the kingdom of heaven.

Joe was a big part of this family business and he was also a body builder

and won many awards. He was called “MIGHTY JOE” at times by

his family and friends. Joe was not only mighty in his appearance

but also in courage, spirit and love of family.

Joe is truly missed by his family and friends, but not forgotten,

And he is always in their thoughts and prayers.

My job is to look up to heaven from time to time and say

“HEY JOE WE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU” and to welcome you to our family business.

God bless you all and thanks for coming to see me.

Mighty Joe

The son may not have been more that eighteen when he died (by the look of the photo at the bottom of the sign) of a brain tumor in 1999. The family, who owns “Mighty Joe’s” gas station, grill, and deli on Route 206 in Shamong, New Jersey, purchased the gorilla from a South Jersey amusement park that closed. According to the good folks at Roadtrippers.com:

"Mighty Joe was previously located in Wildwood, NJ. He was installed at the Islander Raceway and Amusement Park where he was known as George the Gorilla. Today, a sign covers the two holes in his chest that had slides projecting from them."

Larry Valenzano, Mighty Joe's father, purchased the gorilla around 2003, had it restored, and installed it at the family business to serve as a mascot and memorial. Larry had seen the derelict gorilla in the broken down amusement park many times during trips to Wildwood and he said it always reminded him of his bodybuilder son. According to RoadsideAmerica.com:

"My wife thought I was crazy," Larry said. "She told me, 'That guy's not gonna sell you that gorilla. You're out of your mind. What makes you think he would sell that to you?'" But the guy did sell Larry the gorilla, bypassing 15 higher bidders. "'I don't need the money,'" Larry remembered him saying at the time. "'And the reason you want it is more important.'"

Mighty Joe’s actual address, should you want to meet him, is 1231 US Hwy 206, Shamong, New Jersey. Our kind friends at RoadsideAmerica.com give these specific directions: “Mighty Joe's Gas, Grill & Deli. On the west side of US Hwy 206, a little over four miles south of Hwy 70, and about a half-mile south of Tuckerton Rd."

The giant gorilla just appears out of nowhere as you're flying south on 206 through the Jersey Pine Barrens. Like so many of New Jersey’s roadside attractions, all of a sudden its just THERE! – and its up to you to decide whether you want to hit the brakes and investigate!