175 Years of Reflections, Laurel Hill Cemetery

This year, the commemorative book 175 Years of Reflections, Laurel Hill Cemetery, 1836 – 2011 was published. It’s lovely, coffee table-sized, and hard-bound, filled with personal reflections on Laurel Hill by scores of (mostly live) people. A few years prior, I was asked if I would donate one of my Laurel Hill photographs to be in it − quite an honor. My image, “Colder than Ice on a Tombstone (2008)” appears on page 125.

Ed Snyder's "Colder than Ice on a Tombstone"

Available at Blurb.com

It’s one thing to force your own art on the world by writing your own book, but to be asked to be in someone else’s book is very flattering and meaningful. I do want to thank all the people involved in putting the book together, and for recognizing the emotional connection of all the contributors.

The format of 175 Years of Reflections is quite clever – “ … a collection of 175 remembrances about the cemetery, dating all the way back to its founding to the present day and includes poems, journal entries and much more.” (The website Geekadelphia continues,) “Through these you get a picture of what the Laurel Hill Cemetery has meant to people and to the city of Philadelphia. It really is a unique way to understand something that has been a part of this city for so long.”

Image by Frank Rausch (p. 110)

In April 2011, the Friends of Laurel Hill held a book launch at the cemetery. All contributing parties were invited. I knew one or two of my compatriots, but was not prepared for the dozens of people who showed up. Many of whom I’d only known through the press, such as Tom Keels (author of several books, including Philadelphia Graveyards and Cemeteries), as well as others whose art was familiar to me, e.g.  internationally known photographer Bob Reinhardt.

Image by Marietta Dooley (p. 155)

It was a great social event for Philadelphia artists and writers - I made new friends like Marietta Dooley (whose photograph in the book graces the cover of Laurel Hill’s current tour guide) and enjoyed talking with familiars Frank Rausch and Scott Kreilick. Frank’s always got great stories as he lives in the cemetery, and Scott’s historical conservation company is responsible for restoring  the “Old Mortality” statue grouping housed at Laurel Hill’s entrance.

"Old Mortality"

A copy of the book was very generously given to each contributing artist and author, whose work exemplified their own personal reflections of Laurel Hill Cemetery. As we lined up to receive our copy, people were thrilled to find that the organizers had taken the time to mark the page of the contributor’s work with a tall bookmark bearing the contributor’s name. Talk about attention to detail!

Image by Bob Reinhardt (p. 165 )

The event was incredibly well organized. Yards beer (Philadelphia’s best) and oer d'oeuvres were served, name tags given out, a tent and chairs to listen to the speeches. Gwen Kaminski (Laurel Hill’s Director of Development & Programs) read her poetry and Tom Keels spoke touchingly about his early visits to Laurel Hill. I remember quite vividly a line from one young man’s speech in which he mentioned  “the very human desire to be remembered after death.” The note included in each book from the “Friends of Laurel Hill” organization seemed to expand on this philosophic idea:

"Well beyond the year of Laurel Hill Cemetery’s 175th anniversary and, indeed, well beyond the life spans of those of us who are here to be part of it, this book will remain an enduring symbol of the language and art, of the life and death embodied by Laurel Hill. As a permanent addition to our archives, its words and images will inspire future generations of the living, and your own name will be forever linked with the history of America’s first National Historic Landmark cemetery." - Friends of Laurel Hill

What a wonderful sentiment! As far as my own photography and writings, I’ve leaned heavily on the creepiness of cemeteries, but that can be an unsteady rail. There really is just too much beauty and life in and around a cemetery like Laurel Hill to dwell on negative aspects. 175 Years of Reflections pulls together poems, stories, historical family photographs, fine art images, paintings, old lithographs, even children’s drawings  − REFLECTIONS, quite literally, on people’s POSITIVE experiences at the cemetery.

Cover detail

After the formal presentations outdoors, people were invited to stroll the grounds on this lovely spring day, or adjourn to the museum/gallery in the gatehouse. One could view the exhibits of historic memorabilia related to everything from Harry Kalas (the late Phillies sportscaster) to George Meade (lauded Civil War general), both of whom are buried at Laurel Hill.

During the informal milling about - and much to my surprise - various people came up to me and asked if I would sign page 125, on which my photograph was printed. Quite flattering, I must say. By the way, the title of my image, “Colder Than Ice on a Tombstone," is not dedicated to my ex-wife, as some might imagine. It was quite literally how I felt that winter's day in 2008 as I lay on Laurel Hill’s ice-encrusted snow to make the photograph. Quite opposite of the warm and friendly ambiance everyone enjoyed at Laurel's book launch party!

Books by Ed Snyder: 

Available at Amazon.com

Available at Blurb.com

Further Readings:

175 Years of Reflections, Laurel Hill Cemetery , 1836 – 2011 available at Laurel Hill Cemetery and through its website

Philadelphia Graveyards and Cemeteries by Tom Keels
Photographic Art by Frank Rausch
Rest in Pixeks, Robert Reinhardt's website
Kreilick Conservation, LLC

Easter Egg Hunt in a Cemetery?

It's that time of year again! Join West Laurel Hill Cemetery for their most popular annual event. Search for over 3,000 prize-filled eggs, enter the raffle and have your picture taken with the Easter Bunny. A surprise guest (in addition to E. Bunny) awaits this year's attendees! For children 10 and under. Be sure to bring your own basket! The event is free and will take place at the Conservatory on the grounds of the Cemetery. −www.westlaurelhillcemetery.com

When I told people that my wife and I were taking our 18-month-old daughter to an Easter Egg Hunt at a local cemetery they thought I was nuts. And those were our Christian friends and relatives. Who knows what my wife’s Jewish side of the family thought. Truth be told, I really wasn’t sure what to expect myself − kids tripping and smacking their heads on tombstones?

"SISTE VIATOR"  − The words are chiseled into the pillars that once served as the main gate leading into Philadelphia’s West Laurel Hill Cemetery. Centuries ago (as stated on the Bella Morte website), this Latin message was commonly seen on roadside tombs in ancient Rome. They beckon, "Stop, Traveler." West Laurel is a wonderful place for a cemetery traveler to stop, and I’ve been photographing there countless times over the years. I know cemeteries are doing everything they can to be destination spots for visitors and tourists, but, an Easter Egg Hunt? (“Put that down, Johnny! That’s NOT an Easter egg!”)

After we decided to go, I heard it might rain on the appointed day. I inquired about a rain date. I was told that indoor accommodations were planned in that event. “Indoor accommodations?” Where, in the viewing rooms? I imagined caskets full of Easter grass, brimming with colorful plastic eggs, another with the Easter Bunny hiding inside. Kids would be scarred for life! West Laurel, however, did a fabulous job! I was unprepared for how popular this second annual event would be.

Driving through the main entrance gate on Belmont Avenue, my wife, daughter, and I headed for the Bringhurst Funeral Home, where I assumed the festivities would be held. It’s a stately modern facility with a vintage horsedrawn hearse parked alongside, which you can rent for your funeral procession. Lots of grassy area around here, but not many cars. Hmmm. Was it over? Did I have the time wrong? The DAY?

As I slowly drove by the building's front entrance, my wife said it looked like a funeral was going on inside. Hmm, what the… ? Wait! The ad said it was being held at the conservatory. That must be the building on the other side of the cemetery! So we drove over the gently rolling hills past the stately mausoleums (West Laurel has over two hundred of them, clustered on its 187 acres). Truly an enchanting place. Here’s a description of our drive excerpted from the Bella Morte website; the writer truly captures the sense of wonderment that I get when driving through West Laurel Hill:

"Upon entering through the Belmont Avenue gates, visitors will notice one of the cemetery's most striking features...its proliferation of mausoleums. Here, there are veritable neighbourhoods where the dead vie with each other for bragging rights over the most opulent eternal homes. Marble walls ascend skyward or bask in the cool shade afforded by impeccable landscaping. Curving paths invite exploration as they wind through trees and sweetly-scented bushes interspersed by the omnipresent mausoleums. Be certain to step up to each and every building and peer inside. Many are bathed in the multi-coloured light cast by breathtaking stained-glass windows. Some are lined with brilliant mosaics. Others are simple but elegant.  − www.bellamorte.com

Once you pass through Mausoleum Town you get to the older side of the cemetery, where you see some amazing statues and monuments. In the center of it all is a large meeting hall/office/greenhouse − the conservatory. When we arrived, scores of cars were parked along all the roadways. Cemetery workers were guiding traffic. I didn’t see many visitors, just thousands of brightly colored plastic eggs all over the grass. The eggs certainly cheered up the place, lying all about the monuments and surrounding the mausoleums in that general area. I asked a worker where all the people were. He said, “Inside. They’ll start the egg hunt in about ten minutes.”

E. Bunny, Olivia, and Jill

So I did have the time wrong. The event began an hour before we arrived, but all we missed was the messy build-up to the hunt itself. We went inside to find hundreds of kids of all ages with their parents, carrying on with balloon animals and two dressed-up human Easter Bunnies. In those remaining minutes, we got Olivia’s picture with one of the Bunnies (not sure if this was the One, True, Easter Bunny), after which we were all ushered outside.

Start of the race to find the Easter Eggs

The master of ceremonies made a speech to the throng (had to have been five hundred people there), told the crowd what areas were designated for what ages, and turned us loose. I grabbed a few pictures of the pandemonium as Jill put Olivia down in the grass. Poor child had no idea what was going on, but Jill helped her scoop up a few eggs to but in her bag!

I only took about three photos before it all came to an end. Three thousand Easter Eggs scooped up in less than a minute! It was quite a sight. Hats off to the cemetery workers and event planners, this was really fun! They even beat the rain. Everyone appeared to be having a great time, even though many of the kids were probably wondering what this place was. It was interesting seeing them peering down through glass crypts covers, wondering what was below. Not Easter Eggs, little girl, but you’ll find that out soon enough.

For many of them, it may have been their first visit to a cemetery. Not so with 18-month-old Olivia. Here’s a photo of her at 12 months of age at the Old Mortality re-dedication ceremony (post-restoration) at Historic Laurel Hill Cemetery (West Laurel's companion cemetery across the Schuylkill River) in the fall of 2010. I want her to have a healthy perspective on cemeteries in general, to appreciate the history and art, so we’ll spend time in them.

"Old Mortality" sculpture, c. 1836

I’d also like her to visit my grave after I’m gone. It’s one thing to have children when you’re in your twenties, it’s quite another when your fifty − you think more about mortality. You think about dying yourself, the danger of not seeing your child’s wedding day. But it makes you savor the beautiful moments available to you right now. I didn’t really do this with my older children, and I wish I had.

Writer Salman Rushdie echoed the same thought in his recently published children’s novel, Luka and the Fire of Life, which he wrote for his young son who was born when Rushdie was fifty. The book explores, in Rushdie’s words, “the relationships between the world of imagination and the "real" world, between authoritarianism and liberty, between what is true and what is phony, and between ourselves and the gods that we create.” To paraphrase Rushdie, happy endings are things in which I've become very interested.


Further Reading:

Bella Morte Website
West Laurel Hill Easter Egg Hunt announcement
West Laurel Hill Cemetery and Historic Laurel Hill Website
Building a City of the Dead - The Creation and Expansion of Philadelphia's Laurel Hill Cemetery
 

A Cemetery, Only Half-Abandoned

Funny how life is simply a constant realignment of priorities. Time was, I wouldn’t go near a cemetery unless it had obvious and grandiose angel monuments. For ten years, I never read an epitaph. A few years ago I began to appreciate cemeteries for more than just their statues. I had no choice—with all the angels shot, I had to dig deeper into cemetery life, that is, if I wanted to continue spending ridiculous amounts of time in them.

I found myself in a weird state last week, New Jersey, to be exact. I was attending an opening reception for some photographer friends at a gallery in the lovely little town of Haddon Heights, NJ. I always carry a map to scout out cemeteries, and I noticed a small one in the area that I decided to check out on the way home.

Mt. Peace Cemetery in the town of Lawnside coexists with the Home Depot, just across White Horse Pike in South Jersey. I pulled onto its ungated grounds, got out of the car and began walking around the neat and tidy graveyard. Grass was cropped short and piles of old flower pots and cuttings lined the cemetery’s wooded perimeter. Lots of Civil War veterans’ graves with small flags waving, but that was about it—a small, sad little cemetery, as my Grandmother would’ve said. At first glance it seemed to have nothing to recommend it; at second glance I was sure it didn't-- until I noticed the tombstones in the woods.

The two sides of the cemetery not bordered by roads were bordered by a forest, essentially. It was densely wooded with vines encircling the trunks of gnarled trees. Bushes with red berries and wildflowers all but covered - scores of old tombstones! Were people buried in the woods, or did cemetery trees just thrive randomly in the fertile soil amidst these lonely graves?

As I walked back through the thicket over fallen trees and empty beer cans, I quickly realized the dates on the stones were not so old. Most stones were of a soft material which lost its detail to the elements over the past century, but some showed dates as recent as the 1930s. Old Mortality must have been on a bender when he was due to ride through Lawnside. It appeared as though somewhere along the line, the groundskeepers decided it really wasn’t worth maintaining the older section.

The cemetery is twice its apparent size—half in plain view from the street, half hidden under the dark foliage cover. Scores of graves litter the forest. Toppled and sunken headstones are easy to trip over, as many are not obvious poking through the wildflowers and vines. Treading among the stones I couldn’t help wonder why people would lose interest in a cemetery, in their own history. How do you just forget about all these people who died? The untended area was shadowy and packed with ghostly stillness, even as daylight filtered through the leaves above. Massive spider webs stretched from tree to tree and creepy shadows played on headstones. I got an unsettling feeling, something akin to that which Mark Twain described as “when one woke up by accident away in the night, and forgotten sins came flocking out of the secret chambers of the memory.”

To add to the creepiness, there’s an old house in the woods, in a clearing beyond the trees. Imagine having a graveyard in your backyard—or rather, a graveyard as your backyard! Not even a fence to provide a psychological barrier between you and the scores of dead bodies mouldering in the ground. Forget wasting money on Halloween Fright Nights—walking through here at night would do it for me.

A good distance into the thicket I came upon a headstone with an old folding chair beside it. The deceased’s given name was “Anna;” the chair was tattered and rusty. Anna found peace in 1935, but obviously her mate did not. I immediately thought of the cinematic vehicle used in the movie “Rocky Balboa (2006),” where Rocky kept a chair at Adrian’s grave to sit on while he visited. Anna and Adrian were relatively young when they died (both in their forties), but whereas Adrian was fictionally romanticized, Anna was a true love lost. The pain suffered by her mate must have been the kind Baudelaire knew:

"When the low heavy sky weighs like a lid
Upon the spirit aching for the light
And all the wide horizon’s line is hid
By a black day sadder than any night"

He could not forget Anna, yet he is long forgotten himself, along with the scores of other people in these lonely graves. As I sit in my comfortable living room a few nights later typing this, its pouring outside. I can’t help but think of that chair in the dark, in the rain.

I knew nothing about Mt. Peace Cemetery prior to my visit—exploration is more personal that way. Afterwords, I did some research. Mount Peace was organized in 1890 by African Americans to provide a burial place for their dead—they were excluded from other cemeteries because of race. Bear in mind that until the Civil Rights Act of 1964, African-Americans were not allowed to drink from "white" water fountains or use "white" bathrooms. Even in death, there was segregation. Mt. Peace was designated as a "black" cemetery, one of the few along the East Coast (GSGI, 2003). Aptly named, it may have been the only place these people finally found peace.

In 1952, the company that owned and maintained Mt. Peace went bankrupt, and the 18-acre site fell into disrepair. A fire in the cemetery office destroyed all of the records and maps of the plots. With the inscriptions worn away from the stones, the dead have effectively disappeared. However, their presence is certainly felt. By 1978, Mount Peace was overgrown with shrubbery and had become a virtual dumping ground. Cleaning it became a neighborhood volunteer project. Residents came out every Saturday during the spring and summer bringing their own tools and equipment to clean up and cut back the undergrowth. The dividing line I noted earlier is simply where the volunteer cleanup crews ran out of resources. The Lawnside, NJ Historical Society continues to expand its efforts to restore and protect the cemetery.

Links for more information:

Garden State Ghost Investigations (GSGI)
Lawnside Historical Society
Mt. Peace Video Documentary