Walking Past the Graveyard

People in rural communities interact with their cemeteries more often than people in urban centers do.

Seriously.

Even though I have been gone from the area for years, I could probably draw a map of Dale Pleasant Prairie Cemetery (in rural Zumbro Falls) which would identify at least twenty graves. I even know where people are buried that never had a tombstone!

Well, at least I know what my father told me... which was probably based on what his father told him.

You get the idea.

Most people find little comfort in graveyards. They seem spooky or frightening - therefore, the connection with Halloween. However, I must admit to a fascination with what I find there.

In the Zumbro Falls cemetery there are a number of graves dating 1918-1919. They represent the Spanish flu pandemic that most people have all but forgotten. It is hard to have any certainty, but between 50 and 100 million people died in this wave of influenza, making it one of the deadliest natural disasters in history. I appreciate the fact those headstones still serve as a reminder of something so tragic.

Of course, I have a lot of family buried at Pleasant Prairie. Both sets of my grandparents are buried there. My Aunt Ella, who served as a missionary in Colombia, has her grave at Pleasant Prairie. My Uncle Lloyd fought up the boot in Italy in WWII, but he died a normal death in Minnesota and is buried with people he knew all his life. Just recently my Aunt Darlene died unexpectedly. As expected she was buried at Pleasant Prairie.

I appreciate it when people demonstrate a bit of humor on their gravestones. And, yes, as you can imagine, I have collected a few examples.

From England:

Ann Mann
Here lies Ann Mann,
Who lived an old maid,
But died an old Mann.
Dec. 8, 1767

From La Pointe, Wisconsin:

To the Memory of
Abraham Beaulieu
Born 15 September 1822
Accidentally shot 4th April 1844
As a mark of affection from his brother

One of the scariest, funniest tombstones I have been made aware of is found in Fodice, Texas (southeast of Crockett). At the Flat Prairie Foster Cemetery you can find the tombstone for Woody Roland. I am, of course, not making this up. Apparently, my namesake was a Private in the U.S. Army during WWII.

Cemeteries, like death, should serve to remind us of what is important in life.

Eugene Peterson has written a memoir entitled The Pastor. In it he tells about visiting a Benedictine monastery named "Christ in the Desert." As Peterson and his wife were on their way to the refectory where they were to have lunch, they walked past the cemetery and noticed an open grave. Peterson inquired about who had passed away.

"No one." he was told. "That grave is for the next one."

Every day the monks in that community went past an open grave as they walked between the dining room and the chapel. As they did, they were reminded of what most people spend their waking hours trying to forget. One of them would be "the next one."

A sobering thought.

Maybe if we paid more attention to what we find in cemeteries we would also pay more attention to how we should live before we arrive there.