Whatever you call them; graveyard, cemetery, or final resting place of the dead, the land projects a consecrated aura. And always an uneasiness.

The atmosphere here lately has been ideal for writing about graveyards. Heavy dark clouds, dense fog, and generally gloomy days.

The older the grave, the creepier the mood. Blackened withered marble headstones with the faintest impression of a name. They only whisper their stories now.

I’m fascinated by the old graveyards that haunt country roadsides and linger in the middle of fields. Often, this time of year, after the fields are plowed, you see one lonely old oak tree standing sentinel over ten or 15 ancient tombstones. I wonder about the histories and dramas of the people who rest there.

Chilling Images

Cemeteries have to be one of the single spookiest locations. The terms: mausoleum, crypt, tomb, catacomb, sepulcher; all relate to death and the eternal rest that wait for us. The devoutly religious believe we will return with the last judgment. Similarly, some believe in eternal salvation. A lot more people think the departed roam between the headstones.

The outrageous statuary that decorates some graves just preserves that feeling of dread. An overactive imagination already on the verge of terror is going to see a seven-foot-tall, winged marble angle as a bloodsucking ghoul.

The word ghoul has its roots in pre-Islamic Arabic legends. They were the demons that prowled graveyards eating the flesh of the dead. Ghouls were first mentioned in western literature in the 1800s, around the time Mary Shelly wrote Frankenstein. Two mad scientists who stole bodies from nearby cemeteries are suspected of inspiring that story.

Picnic in the Graveyard

The 1800s Industrial revolution ushered in some strange times. More people were leaving their family farms and moving to the cities. Hygiene was poor, diseases were widespread, and safety issues weren’t even considered.

A lot of people died in the city, and they all needed a place to go. City planners in the late 1800s began to develop large municipal cemeteries. These were large swaths of public land with beautiful topiary gardens, fields of flowers, walking paths, and sculptures.

City dwellers flocked to public cemeteries for picnics and to walk in the park. People would celebrate special occasions or holidays next to the grave of a departed loved one. Their kids would use tombstones as a playset! This was perfectly normal and encouraged.

This creepiness fell out of favor about the time city planners decided to establish municipal parks. Some places have tried to bring back the tradition of picnics in the graveyard. Thankfully, most large cemeteries have very strict rules about what recreational activities can happen onsite. No Thanksgiving dinner with grandpa.

Graveyard Ecology

There is a linguistic difference between a cemetery and a graveyard, it seems. The terms are used interchangeably now. Originally cemetery referred to a large park-like landscaped area, while a graveyard was attached to a church.

In any case, and especially in Europe, graveyards and cemeteries have remained the only undeveloped land in a community. Ecological studies suggest that the trees tend to be older, and the land is a refuge for endangered plants and animals. That seems obvious. When researchers crunched the numbers, they found that burial grounds tend to have a higher diversity of species than the adjacent cultivated areas.

A Chinese study counted 81 plant species within a local cemetery compared to 34 just outside the walls.  Cemeteries seem to serve as a refuge for numerous birds, bugs, bats, and small mammal species. Most of these species are necessary for pollination.

The Spirits of the Past

During the day a cemetery can be a peaceful place. Last week, I visited three old graveyards near me. It was a curious, yet nifty trip. Two of the graveyards happened to be the resting place of some of my ancestors. Both feel like artifacts of a rural era.

The first where my great grandparents lie, dates to 1791. The graveyard was a common burial ground for two different congregations. There are still German words faintly visible in some of the weathered stones. The land was rural with pastoral rolling hills. now there is a spotless white plastic privacy fence separating the graves from a housing development.

The second (the top two images) is mysterious. It can’t be more than ¾ of an acre squeezed between five houses. There is a tiny 1ftx2ft sign at the end of a driveway that announces the final resting place of about 150 people. I don’t know if this was a family plot, if there was an associated church; I’m not even sure who mows the lawn. The chain-link fence that surrounds the graveyard almost rubs a few of the tombstones. I had to pull the wire away to read the names.  

The third is a small cemetery that sits on a hill outside the city limits of Westminster, MD. A few years ago, the town’s historical society “rediscovered” the cemetery and began to restore it. The land for the cemetery was initially purchased by African American Civil War soldiers. Many of the people interred were black veterans who weren’t allowed be buried within the town limits. It’s a beautiful, historically significant place where each soldier has a small white iron cross marking their grave.

The take home

I felt a connection to a history I never knew while I wandered through that second graveyard. Somehow, some of the people whose remains lie in that ground share my genetics. Perhaps, in a way those spirits were trying to speak to me. They were asking to be remembered.

How long will that property remain a graveyard? How long will any of those spaces remain? So many of them are already gone. The history and memory of the people buried there are lost.

Maybe that’s why cemeteries scare us so. Perhaps, subconsciously we recognize one day, we all will be gone. Only when someone remembers us will we live on.

Some day we may be the spirit that haunts the living.

Happy Halloween!!