Cemetery

My mother and I love historical cemeteries. We like the statuaries and epitaphs as well as the peacefulness of a cemetery. Yes, it a hobby of ours to roam cemeteries. I usually write down the more interesting epitaphs. I do this by taking a picture of the headstone and then do the transcribing when I get home. One time, out of curiosity I did a genealogical search on a name and found out lots of information. I have even sent a couple of photographs to relatives of the deceased.

There are some that think of a cemetery as a final resting place and a place of sorrow. I have always felt that a cemetery is a place of beginnings. It is a place of hope, a place where love can be shown freely, and a wonderful place to commemorate a person that you value.

My trip to Mount Hope in Carrizo Springs brought surprise when I uploaded all of the pictures. I actually captured an orb. I have been photographing cemeteries for a long time but never captured an orb until now.

For those that don’t know what an orb is I will try to explain. Orbs are believed (by many) to be ghosts in the form of balls of light. They are life forms that travel in groups and are believed to be the human soul or life force of those that once inhabited a physical body here on earth.

I will have this picture printed and keep it. Because I was using a digital camera many will consider it a fake, a dirty lens, pixelation gone awry. I will consider it my first orb. It was not my intention to capture an orb nor was it my goal.

I really don’t have a favorite cemetery, I enjoyed Mayfield Kentucky’s cemetery because of the “strange procession which never moves.” Colonel Henry Wooldridge had life size statues depicting his family members, his horse, and his favorite dogs (Tow Head and Bob) made so his family would be with him. The only one buried there is Colonel Wooldridge. I love the Gypsy King and Queen plots as well.

The one cemetery adventure that will stay with me until I die was the Jay Evans Cemetery in Forbus Tennessee. I wanted to find this cemetery for genealogical purposes but when I asked about it in the Jamestown Tennessee library no one heard of it. Mom and I went to Forbus. The only building left was a 100+ year old grocery store where all of the locals hung out. We asked the clerk if she heard of the Jay Evans cemetery and she said “no, but this gentleman might.” We looked over saw a skinny elderly man. He said “follow me.”

Mom and I are addicts of crime shows. We knew better than to follow anyone but for some strange reason we followed. He jumped into a truck and took off. We were close behind him. He went off the main highway down a dirt road and we stayed with him for a mile or so. Then he turned off again and went down a country lane for quite some distance. He parked in front of an old farm house and took off into the woods. By this time mom and I were convinced that if the gentleman proved to be a pervert and tried to attack us we could easily over power him because he was so scrawny he could step behind a sapling and disappear. We followed him into the woods and a few short minutes later an old coon hound joined us. About fifteen – twenty minutes later we stood in front of an old abandoned cemetery and the only stones that were still readable were the tombstones of my ancestors George and Rachel Peavyhouse.