Bud and Disie Jowers

Because Natchez Trace was farmland until the New Deal and the TVA, there are over 25 family cemeteries scattered across the park. Most are tucked away beside camping spots, but I cannot imagine who would camp next to one! There were headstones all over, some broken, some worn down from years of neglect and weather, some still intact, for babies and parents and families, just like cemeteries all over. The strangest sight were the series of square unmarked stumps in rows, like above. We couldn't figure out what they were, because there were no markings on them whatsoever, but they didn't look like replacement stones. For slaves, maybe?






One cemetery we stopped at had a couple of faded plastic flower displays up, which jarred with the actual headstone, which was simply the names, misspelled once and scratched into the cement with a stick. Someone still remembers the Jowers.

Graceland

Graceland Cemetery

Some final shots from my visit to Graceland Cemetery. The rest are available in a set at Flickr.



God really is in the details.



Reflecting Bench



Ornate Door



Cross against the trees

++++

I will be out of town until Wednesday with no ability to upload new photos. But I will be taking plenty of them, so check back next week for scenes from Laughlin, Nevada!

In Memory of Christopher

During my visit to Graceland Cemetery this weekend -- as a reminder, is located right smack in the middle of northside Chicago -- I was wandering through when I spotted this sight ahead, tucked away among the changing small trees and grasses.



Naturally, I went closer to investigate.



The stone reads, "In Memory of our Beautiful and Beloved Son Christopher." It's a family plot; there are two footstones below, with room for one more. The middle one is for Dr. Christopher Manuel, who died at the age of 39 in 2005. The second one must be his mother (I'm guessing from the birthdates listed) who died this August 2007.






From what I've been able to discern on the web, this memorial was erected in late 2006. It's one of most unusual I've ever seen, and definitely sad and haunting. I couldn't stop taking pictures of it, and thinking about how loving this family must have been, and how devastated they clearly were by his death. All graves are sad in their own ways, but this one's grief seemed especially piercing to me. Maybe it's the personal and yet theatrical style of headstone, or the way it's hidden away in the cemetery but when you're close enough you can see there's nothing hidden at all.





The verse is from an old song, "For All We Know", which has been recorded by dozens of artists over the years.

I then left Christopher.



And so he sits, facing the small still pond, playing his silent flute for anyone who comes close enough to find him again.

Guarding the Mausoleum

Spent Sunday morning wandering through Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, where many of the wealthiest and famous families are buried. It was quite beautiful, although I made a rookie photographer mistake and had my camera on the wrong setting for the entire shoot. Most of the photos didn't come out at all, but I managed to salvage a few. Lesson learned!

These were three imposing figures that guarded a large pyramid-style mausoleum. The face they used as the model on the last one is especially creepy to me.

Sad Woman, more depressing than imposing



Snake Handle, which is the kind of thing which gives me the heebie-jeebies



Man/Dog. Yikes!

More photos from Richard

Sunset over a Polish cemetery




The dead overlook a dying town



I like these shots because the light in the sky makes it feel peaceful and melancholy.

Guest Photographer: Richard Plocinik

My husband recently went on a trip with his family to Michigan and Pennsylvania, and inspired by my passion for photography, decided to take a camera with him. He hadn't used one in a long time, but I was pretty impressed with what he found!



This was taken in Stony Creek State Park in Michigan, in a random unmarked clearing. I love the light in the trees behind, and the perfect framing of the bench. You get a great sense of how tall the trees are, and how quiet it must have been.




This was on a priest's gravestone, in the Pennsylvania cemetery of the church where he served for forty years. I loved the intricacy of the detail; the priest was someone they obviously respected, but the shared love of the church comes through even more.




The house's decorations are split completely in half, right down to the different shades of yellow paint and even the different walls along the sidewalk. Impressive!

All these shots are even better viewed in large:
Bench in Clearing
Priest's Gravestone
Split House


My husband has a good eye, doesn't he?