Cemeteries get a bad rap. Too often they are thought of only in terms of death and loss. They should also be about living.
Full disclosure: My views have been shaped by having grown up in a cemetery in Ontario, Canada. Our red brick home in a corner of Greenlawn Memorial Gardens had once been the cemetery manager’s residence until it was offered for sale and my parents bought it.
There was no fence between Greenlawn and our house. We viewed it every evening at supper simply by looking out the dining-room window.
The men who worked in “the park,” as they called it, were our closest neighbors. If our pump broke, the cemetery supplied our water; we returned the favor at times. When my dad needed a tractor, he borrowed the cemetery’s. My mom baked pies I delivered to the workers to enjoy under big shade trees at lunch. I got to stay and listen to their stories.
I spent much of the summer of my 12th year shadowing Mark Nemeth, a young worker tasked with edging around each of the thousands of grave markers. Ten years later, as a summer worker, I did the same job and was amazed how many names I remembered, in part because Mark and I created an all-star baseball lineup using surnames on gravestones like Mantle, Robinson, Ruth, Cobb and Williams.
My siblings and I learned to ride a bike and drive a car in the cemetery. As a 7-year-old, I was taught how to steer, clutch and shift gears on the small Ford tractor while sitting on Bert Dufour’s lap.
As teens, my brother and I were paid a dollar a week to lock the cemetery gate and mausoleum.
My family’s relationship with our neighbor cemetery was unique. We couldn’t understand why friends and cousins were nervous when they visited. Even the adults.
The discomfort some feel around cemeteries is learned. I was lucky to learn differently. Literally living in one helped me develop a healthier attitude toward cemeteries, funerals and even death itself.
In some communities, cemeteries have been positive, active aspects of life for centuries.
While many modern cemeteries are monotonous in layout and appearance, the “garden” cemeteries established as part of a 19th-century movement drew visitors not just for funerals, but to appreciate their design, beautiful landscapes and noteworthy memorials.
In Richmond, Virginia, the 135-acre Hollywood Cemetery, established in 1847, is still fully operational. Noted for its hills and valleys, it is a registered arboretum with more than 2,000 trees older than the cemetery itself. It offers self-guided and virtual tours along with five guided tours, by foot and four types of transportation.
Toronto’s 205-acre Mount Pleasant Cemetery was named a National Historic Site in 2000 and is also a significant arboretum. With floral gardens, wildlife, sculptures and artist-made memorials, its paths and trails are open to the public for walking and cycling.
Mount Hope municipal cemetery in Rochester has a “friends of” organization and has been called a time capsule of local history. The city website describes it as “a peaceful park, a wildlife sanctuary and an outdoor museum” that offers tours, including school field trips.
Can local cemeteries take anything from their counterparts?
Some, such as the Cold Spring Cemetery, Fishkill Rural Cemetery, Beacon’s Old St. Joachim Cemetery and the Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery were established in the mid to late 1800s, an era when new cemeteries were not just places to bury the dead but designed to be appreciated for their beauty, nature and history.
A walk through Cold Spring Cemetery really is a local history lesson. Notables buried there include James Harvey Bennett, a Spanish-American War Medal of Honor recipient; Gouverneur Kemble, founder of the West Point Foundry; Robert Parker Parrott, inventor of the Parrott gun; Julia Butterfield, for whom the local library and hospital were named; and Emily Warren Roebling, who oversaw construction of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Not to mention early settlers with surnames such as Jaycox, Warren and Davenport. The landscape is beautiful and the trees spectacular.
Some people feel that using cemeteries even for quiet walking or cycling is disrespectful. It is not inherently disrespectful. Properly managed, it can be just the opposite. What better way to honor those who have built and contributed to our communities than to explore their cemeteries, enjoying passive recreation to keep us physically and mentally healthy, while learning about local history and native tree species in the process?
Local cemeteries can do more to provide such benefits to residents.
Could there be vandalism? Yes. But if every element of our communities susceptible to vandalism were to close, nothing would be open.
Is there a need for strict rules? Absolutely. Limited hours. No pets. No speeding. No noise. No entry during funerals. Those are just a few.
Rural and garden cemeteries are a 19th-century idea that deserves to be revisited. We can use cemeteries more, in reasonable ways, for the public good. Take a walk. Ride a bike. Follow a self-guided tour.
Newer cemeteries should also learn from what old cemeteries have taught us — that they can be about much more than death and loss.
This column touched my heart! Reminds of the stories my mother would tell me about growing up in Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery when her grandfather was a caretaker there. I carry those stories with me as Grandpa Hawks died before I was born. I especially remember the story she told about her baby brother being born in the cemetery and the stories of her sleigh-riding down the hill from Lover’s Leap. I’ve never found a cemetery scary but rather often enjoy the peace, beauty and serenity I find there not to mention the history behind so many of the families buried there. Like mom said, no one there was going to harm me; it was the ones very much alive and walking around I might have to worry about. Great story from a heart I can certainly relate to. Grandpa Hawks was born in Philipstown in 1861, died in Poughkeepsie in 1937 and is buried in Fishkill Rural Cemetery.
Very good article. Take a look at the Hyde Park cemetery near the FDR place!
We often walk in the Cold Spring Cemetery and I’ve wondered why it is so hesitant to allow bicycles. I assumed it was for liability reasons. The cemetery would make a great greenway connector from Nelsonville to Route 9D and Boscobel.
Also, in his list of notables buried at the Cold Spring Cemetery, Michael Turton forgot to mention William Van Alen (1883-1954), architect of the 1929 Art Deco-styled Chrysler Building in New York City, who is buried a short distance from the Roeblings, who oversaw the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge.
What a great spotlight on the potential multi-use of cemeteries, as well as a specific focus on the beautiful local gem we have in the Cold Spring Cemetery. I grew up playing there among the headstones because my father was superintendent and resident of the cemetery cottage for more than 50 years.
I love the idea of walking there to chip away at my daily 10,000 steps, taking in the tranquility and shade-giving specimen trees that are hallmarks of the cemetery, a winning meditation and workout combo.
Another idea is creating a self-guided tour (in print or as a phone app), perhaps by finding a local historian or researcher who could delve into the most interesting highlights of the cemetery and its inhabitants. Hudson Valley teachers could use it for field trips, as well as Scout troops, senior groups, garden clubs and arborists.
There might also be an opportunity for more formal seasonal guided tours, with a dozen highlights: history, local lore and symbolism, of the shrouded obelisk, for instance. Perhaps an I-spy activity for kids. There are so many possibilities.
Thank you so much for the wonderful column. Not only is it well-written and informative, it highlights a place that has brought me so much joy, exploration as a child and comfort as an adult — and opens up the idea of the cemetery as a local venue to respectfully learn, appreciate and enjoy.