Cemeteries across the Commodore Barry Bridge

Ed Snyder (Photo by Robert Reinhardt)

Back in the fall and out of the blue, my friend Bob and I found ourselves with a few hours open in our schedules. We planned a road trip into South Jersey for the next Sunday morning (not terribly far as we both live in Philadelphia). Always in search of the interesting old graveyard, I suggested we drive across the Commodore Barry Bridge to see what that area had to offer.

The Greater Philadelphia area is replete with cemeteries, big and small. I’ve traveled quite a bit around the area in the past fifteen years and have not visited them all! Back in the olden days – like ten years ago – you had to rely on paper maps and written directions to find the graveyard you were after. One of the new technologies that makes these sacred tracts of land easy to locate these days are the GPS map Apps in smart phones. For example, with the Apple iPhone 6, simply type in the words “cemetery near Philadelphia” and the map lights up with little red push pins all over (indicating cemeteries in this region) and a cursor showing your location (let’s assume you are driving a car). Simply drive toward one of the red pins, and your cursor on the map will follow!

When you find yourself somewhere in the swamps of Jersey, you need all the help you can get. Guardian angels notwithstanding, the smart phone map app can be very useful. As we drove south across the Barry Bridge on Route 322, we didn’t see any cemetery dots for about twelve miles, until we came to the Swedesboro/Mullica Hill area. We found and tramped through three cemeteries that day.

Lake Park Cemetery

Our first stop was Lake Park Cemetery, a smallish suburban cemetery in the town of Woolwich, “situated high on a wooded hill and overlooking the placid waters of Lake Narriticon,” according to the Swedesboro cemetery guide brochure, “Alive with History.” This informative text goes on to say that Lake Park “has been considered one of the most beautiful and enduring cemeteries in the state.” Hmm. Perhaps winter is not the peak season here. I should probably return when the trees and flowers are in bloom.

Toy cars on a child's grave

Water pump, Lake Park Cemetery

The place was pretty desolate, although well cared for. There was a car at the office building and a quaint red water pump nearby. A few mausoleums stood on the high ground (that's a photo of me in the doorway of one at the beginning of this article), and most of the stonework was covered with lichens. This damp, shady cemetery would have looked great photographed with color infrared Ektachrome film, back in the day. With an orange filter, the lovely green lichens would be red, the stone would be grey, and the leaves would be, perhaps yellow? I used to shoot this stuff all the time, and although you can digitally simulate black and white infrared film, simulating color IR is a bit trickier.

Photo by Robert Reinhardt

But I digress. Like the lichens, there were many interesting details if one took the time to look. The leaf-covered cars on a child’s grave that you see in the photo above was quite a sobering scene. On the lighter side, I asked Bob to make a few photos of me here at Lake Park (like the one at left) for scale – where else but in New Jersey would you find a plastic leaf rake as part of the decorative grave installation?

Trinity Episcopal Church Cemetery

Trinity Episcopal Church and grave yard

Our next stop – the nearest red stick pin on my iPhone map App, was Trinity Episcopal Church Cemetery, about a mile away. The original “Old Swede’s” church sits across Second Street from the current and much larger church, its large graveyard alongside it. Colonial Swedes (hence the name Swedesboro) settled in the area in the late 1600s. According to Wikipedia, “The congregation was founded as a Swedish Lutheran parish in 1703 after local residents tired of crossing the river to Delaware or Philadelphia to worship.” Rowing across a river to attend church! Now THAT is religious fervor!

The church’s graveyard has been here since 1703. According to the informative online brochure Swedesboro NJ – Alive with History, “Many graves of the early Swedes, Finns, Native Americans and African Americans are now un-marked but plots are shown on a parchment map dating to the mid-1800s.” However, headstones dating back to 1721 are still standing. One of the grave stones no longer standing is that of Eric Mullica, who arrived on this continent in 1638. His sons founded the nearby town of Mullica Hill. A commemorative plaque stands in the graveyard in memory of these pioneer settlers.

Mortonson-Schorn Log Cabin, Swedesboro

We don’t see a lot of ornamentation here in the old Trinity Church grave yard, just standard headstones. The first thing I noticed was a newer red marble headstone inscribed, “My Mother’s Grave” near the church, and a small old log cabin on the far (east) side of the graveyard. Turns out this cabin is “one of the oldest original log cabins of early Swedish-Finnish architecture in the United States” (ref.). Known as the Mortonson-Schorn Log Cabin, it was built in 1654 by “Morton Mortonson, the grandfather of John Morton, who signed the Declaration of Independence … Prior to and during the Civil War, the Mortonson-Schorn Cabin was used as a station for the Underground Railroad.”

Ivy, ferns, flowers, and other leafy designs

Across a small street from the graveyard is the “new” Trinity Episcopal Church Cemetery, which was created in 1812 when the original one near the church filled up. We see lot of floral-motifs on many of the stones here – marble-carved flowers, vines, and leaves. In fact, this row of four white marble stones above (members of same family, I believe) had distinctly different flowers, leaves, and vines carved on them!

The “new” cemetery’s most striking detail, I thought, was the brick-columned entrance way, with rusting iron ornamental lamps atop the columns. Flags from a previous Memorial Day lay inside the gate, near a rusty old water faucet.

St. Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church Cemetery

Directly across Church Street from the “new” Trinity Episcopal Church Cemetery we found St. Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church Cemetery. Originally I thought it might be yet another extension of Trinity, until I noticed the congregation on nearby Broad Street letting out, with the Catholic priest greeting those holier than I, those who chose to worship mass on Sunday.

Reverend Antonio Cassese's grave marker, St. Joseph’s Church Cemetery

In the mid-nineteenth century, Catholics found it difficult to buy ground for a cemetery here in Woolwich Township due to anti-Catholic animosity that reached its peak in America at this time. In the midst of this persecution, the cemetery was established in 1857, and St. Joseph’s Church was built in 1860. It’s first resident priest, the Reverend Antonio Cassese, is buried under the stone memorial you see in the photo directly above. Born in Naples, Italy, he served the parish from 1872 to his death in 1886.

Passion Flower engraved in granite

The floral motifs continued in this cemetery, with several granite examples of the passion flower. My friend Bob indicated that this symbol is quite prevalent on monuments in Warriston Cemetery in Edinburgh, Scotland. I had to look up it's funerary, mourning art, or religious significance, as I was unfamiliar with this flower. Here's what The Cemetery Club.com's website says:

“Passion flower - The elements of the passion of Christ: the lacy crown—the crown of thorns; the five stamens—the five wounds; the 10 petals—the 10 faithful Apostles."

Hmm. “Ten” faithful apostles? I thought it was eleven (twelve minus Judas)? Oh well, you learn something every day. After our cemetery tours, Bob and I adjourned to a local diner for a late lunch. Jersey diners are typically worth the trip. Visually, I include them in the garish roadside attractions for which New Jersey is well known. The food on the other hand, can be hit or miss. After ordering the breakfast burrito at this place I realized that I too, could easily prepare a breakfast burrito. What they served was pretty much what I would have made with basic ingredients found in the fridge – sausage links, onions, and store-bought salsa. About as basic and plain as you would expect from the Swiss and Finns, I suppose. But hey, at least they didn't use swiss cheese in the burrito!

References and Further Reading:

http://www.interment.net/data/us/nj/gloucester/trinity_episc/trinity.htm

http://colonialswedes.net/Churches/TriEpi.html

http://www.historicswedesboro.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Cemetery_Walking_Tour.pdf

Review of a “Ghost” Camera

Cemetery at night, with clouds and full moon above

You might think this is an April Fool’s Day post, but I swear it’s true! Recently I had the opportunity to borrow a ghost camera. My friend Susan Ellis loaned me her Bell and Howell S7, a 12 megapixel (MP) point-and-shoot “night vision” infrared-capable camera. The subject is illuminated by six red LEDs on the front of the camera. So lo and behold, the images look just like those fuzzy black and white videos on the ghosthunters’ television shows! People and objects have sort of an aura around them.

So literally, the ghosts are in the machine - in the camera, that is! Not really sure if I actually photographed any ghosts outside the camera. In the event the camera was indeed able to pick up energy from the netherworld, I took it into some graveyards at night, as well as in the daytime. The spookier images appeared to be those of live people, however. I also shot various other things with it, examples of which you see here.

The pupils of people’s and animals’ eyes glowed white when illuminated by the S7’s LED panel, giving them the demonic look you see in this photo. (That’s not Linda Blair from The Exorcist at left, its my lovely daughter Olivia, smiling sweetly).

One interesting thing about IR is that when shooting in black and white, foliage appears white. In the daylight, the night vision mode registered simply as poor-quality black and white, save for the foliage appearing white. You can see this in the image below, where the pine needles from the evergreen are white. Here’s a color version of the same image. The camera is easily switchable from low-quality monochrome to low-quality color! (The switch manually removes the infrared blocking lens from in front of the image sensor.)

Order from Amazon.com

Low-quality image? I know what you’re thinking (I have that power, you know), “If the Bell and Howell S7 has a 12 megapixel image sensor, then why are the images of such poor quality?” Mainly, that has to do with the bogus sales pitch (and ad campaigns) that would have unwary customers believing that the higher the pixel count, the better the image. Oh, if life could be that simple! Unfortunately, it is not so.

You see, image quality (resolution, color reproduction, etc.) has more to do with the overall size of the image sensor, not the pixel count. The smaller cameras get, the smaller the image sensor needs to be. A DSLR may have a 24 x 35mm image sensor with a total pixel count of 6MP (megapixels), while the average point-and-shoot may have an image sensor whose overall dimensions are only 5 x 7 mm, but with a total pixel count of 12MP.  Guess which one has better image quality? The DSLR, because it has an overall larger image sensor! (In case you’re interested, I cover this in greater detail in Chapter 4 (“Magical Devices for a High-Speed World?”) of my book, Digital Photography for the Impatient, available from Amazon.com).

"Lone Wolf"

Another reason the black and white infrared images on the Bell and Howell S7 are so grainy could be due to the poor light sensitivity at higher ISO settings, or it could simply be that the camera simulates the traditionally grainy infrared film! I rather like the effect, which is quite cool in this nighttime image of a Mummers’ street party in Philadelphia (above, New Years’ Day, 2014). In this image, there was quite a bit of ambient light, so the camera’s LEDs were not the only light source. When it is the only light source in the dark, you get this vignetting effect (below), which appears simply because the LEDs cannot illuminate the entire field of view.

In color still image mode, the Bell and Howell S7 night vision camera has most of the modes and features of a standard inexpensive digital point and shoot, and you can see them all in this YouTube video. It is also capable of video capture.

Color image made with Bell and Howell S7 camera

I didn’t make any night vision videos, because the LED light source is so weak that it doesn’t illuminate anything more than a few feet away. Even when taking still photos, the shutter speed is so slow, you really have to brace the camera against something solid (like a tombstone, for instance, or a tripod) to keep from getting blurry images. You couldn’t really carry the camera around while trying to capture video in the dark as the sensor is just not very light-sensitive (not sure how ghost-sensitive it is, either) – you just end up with blurriness. Your best bet would be to have the camera on a tripod and let it roll, hoping the ghosts will come to you. (Here’s a YouTube video of an S7 video capture.)

Lastly, and I failed to try this since I didn’t read the Thinkgeek website until after I returned the borrowed camera: “…during the daytime in night vision mode you can see through some types of clothing, paper and other various thin materials. ... Important Note: Respect the privacy of your fellow humans and don't use the … Night Vision Camera for evil." Guess I may have to borrow Susan’s camera again!

Note: To read more about the Bell and Howell S7 (which you can buy for around $100), click here to go to the Bell and Howell website.

Lock Me in the Cemetery Vault

Sometime in the early 2000s, I went to Historic Laurel Hill Cemetery in Phila, PA to shoot a roll of Infrared Ektachrome film (which is no longer made). It was a bright sunny day in the summer, and the photograph you see here was one of the ones I made that day. The Warner Memorial is a dramatic life-sized (assuming granite cemetery beings are the same size as us) statue depicting the Angel of Death lifting the coffin lid and releasing the soul of the deceased to the heavens.

I shot a few frames and then my camera jammed. What to do? No darkroom nearby. No changing bag, either (all you digital newbies are probably wondering what that is...). See, you can't just open the back of a film SLR without exposing the film to light (which ruins it). In some cases with regular film, you can shut yourself up in a closet or bathroom with the lights out and unjam your film. Infrared is different. This film has to be loaded and unloaded in pitch darkness. So where in a cemetery could I find such a place?

Assuming they had a bathroom, I went into the gatehouse to ask. The gentleman behind the desk directed me to the second floor, where there was a nice clean bathroom with bright sunlight coming in the shadeless window. Rats. Now what? I went downstairs and asked if there was somewhere I could open my camera in total darkness. He offered to lock me in the vault! Now, the vault he referred to was not a burial vault, but a walk-in security vault much like the more modern bank vault you see here. It was where they stored important papers, historic documents, and all their burial records since 1835. I didn't know this guy, no one knew I was here, and he's offering to lock me in the vault... Kind of like someone offering you a vegan donut--I felt strongly both ways. But of course I said "ok," being driven to produce quality photographs at any cost.

In retrospect, I remember it being a tough decision, but one I had to make on the spot. Was I willing to suffer this much for my art? The risk of death at the hands of a madman just so I wouldn't waste a $25 roll of film? Sure I had mixed feelings--like watching your mother-in-law drive off a cliff in your favorite car. But after many years, I had figured out how to get the best pictorial effects with infrared Ektachrome (ISO 100, orange filter, bright sunny day with lots of folliage, and slight underexposure due to its contrasty nature) and I wasn't going to waste the opportunity. This sunny day offered the best conditions for success!

So I allowed a perfect stranger to lock me in the unlit vault and close the door. I nervously asked him to give me 10 minutes. I managed to unjam the film, which, upon my release, allowed a very productive day of shooting. Sometimes you just have to trust people! Over the years, we became good friends, as I have with many people who work at Laurel Hill. Unfortunately, my relationship with infrared film ended, as it is no longer being produced by Kodak. Neither is their SO-283 satellite tracking film, which was a great choice for shooting celestial beings like cemetery angels. Just kidding. Wanted to see if you were still paying attention.

As an aside, an even stranger thing occurred around 2005 with regard to this vault. Two armed men came into the gatehouse near closing time and demanded that the vault be opened. When the cemetery director tried to explain that there was nothing of immediate monetary value inside, they pistol-whipped him until he opened it! On finding no cash, gold, or jewels, they left. They'd obviously heard the cemetery had a bank-type vault and mistakenly assumed it was full of money.

Click here for more info on infrared photgraphy.