Why I Love to Visit Cemeteries: A Journey Through Time, History, and Connection

As a frequent traveler, one of my favorite stops along the way is a visit to a local cemetery. My kids often cringe when I suggest these detours, and I can't say I blame them. My dad would (enthusiastically) take us to cemeteries during our family trips, and we protested then as well. But despite the initial reluctance, no doubt tempered by years, I've grown to appreciate the stories that lie within the serene grounds of these resting places.

My fascination with cemeteries might seem unusual, but there's a reason behind it. My Dad showed us that behind every headstone, there was a person's story waiting to be discovered. All we needed to do was make the effort to learn the details.

This personal connection to cemeteries is deeply rooted in my family history. My great grandfather founded Bohemian National Cemetery in Chicago, Illinois, in protest, after the Catholic Church would not administer his infant daughter Last Rites because of her young age (as she was "under the age of reason"). As a result, he established a place where everyone, regardless of their background or age, could be honored and laid to rest. You can visit there today, and see his photo front and center at the cemetery office.

When my grandparents passed away, my dad put great effort into designing a headstone that reflected his father's founding of a Chrysler dealership, his passion for cars and his legacy as a master mechanic--complete with a Chrysler Pentastar ("...above your grandmother's name because she was a star.") and a transportation wheel symbol (because "our family is all about transportation"). On the reverse of the stone, is a plaque commemorating his status as a World War I veteran.

My oldest daughter, Anna Fenzel , is an anthropologist, studying at George Washington University.??She recently told me that in migrant societies, cemeteries hold particular significance. In a society where people are constantly on the move, the importance lies not in where you were born but where you die. Graves serve as endpoints for migrants and beginnings for their descendants, marking the truth of their presence in a new land. In this way, cemeteries become places for the living to connect with their ancestors.

The practice of gathering in graveyards was once commonplace. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, picnicking in cemeteries was a popular pastime in the United States. Lacking proper recreational areas, families would spend time on their family lots, talking about their loved ones and sharing meals with both the living and the deceased. Death was a constant visitor in those days, and cemeteries provided a space to confront and embrace this reality.

As I wander through these tranquil grounds, I'm reminded of the transient nature of life and the ever-shifting concept of origin. Graves provide a point of return in a world where our roots are continuously moving. Headstones, with their silent presence, serve as markers of absence that connect us to the stories and lives that came before us.

In the end, my love for visiting cemeteries is not just about uncovering the stories behind the headstones but also about honoring the lives of those who came before us. It's a way of acknowledging their presence in our lives, and in doing so, preserving their stories for future generations.

Headstones often tell a story unique to those interred there--stories that transcend simple dates of birth and death. They seek to describe what happened in between those dates. The dates serve as the proverbial covers of a book.

So the next time you pass a cemetery, consider taking a moment to explore the history, stories, and connections that lie within its gates. You might find that these sacred spaces have a lot more to offer than you initially thought.