Cemetery desecration

I've been reading in the news of the outrageous crime that took place recently in a Chicago-area black cemetery. Three workers (maybe more, I can't remember at the moment) hatched a scheme to make money out of nothing by digging up graves, tossing the remains, and reselling the plots to unsuspecting buyers! This shocks and angers me more than you can imagine. Being a family historian, and respecting highly the memory of my ancestors (heck, I love these people, and I didn't even know most of them!), I have come to view cemeteries not so much as places of death and sadness, but of connection to those who have gone before us. Now, being a Christian I know full well those people's souls, the very essence of who they are, aren't out there at the cemetery. They're either enjoying Heaven with Jesus or they're awaiting judgment for not having accepted Him as Savior. But the bodily remains are still there, and that makes for a connecting point between the living and their deceased loved ones. A very important connecting point.

So now there are 2,000 families looking for their dead, and many are finding that their graves have been dug up, the bones nowhere to be found, and there are also headstones missing or damaged. I just find this horrific. The accused even dug up plots in "Babyland" where most of the children are buried. I can't even imagine the pain of losing a child and then having some calloused, evil person come along and dig up their remains and just tossing them somewhere!

So -- on the subject of cemeteries: When I was younger, I really hated cemeteries. To me they just seemed places of sorrow and death, and I have never wanted to dwell on those kinds of things. A number of years ago we went to Ireland, and I honestly adored their cemeteries -- of course, if I had a loved one who was recently buried there, I probably wouldn't feel the same. But they were such peaceful places, places full of gorgeous Celtic crosses, with vegetation growing wild everywhere and just this sense of holiness about them. I enjoyed wandering around among the crosses and headstones and just enjoying the peace. I didn't think I would ever "like" American cemeteries, though. They seemed too well-manicured and sterile by comparison.

But now that I've gotten serious about my roots (that reminds me -- I need to color my hair again ...), I've discovered that I don't mind the American ones so much. Granted, I can't say that I "adore" them -- there is still a touch of sadness in them. But it's comforting, somehow, to walk around a cemetery and find the names of my ancestors, to see the different headstones that were chosen to stand as testimony of their lives. The older headstones are so fascinating, but the newer ones are also beautiful. For example, on my paternal grandparents' headstone, there's a heart in between the names that gives the date on which they were married. To me that is so sweet!

And the inscriptions (what we commonly call epitaphs) ... some are just straight to the point: "Resting in Jesus." And there are some that are more lengthy, such as this one on John Ross and Clarinda (Pevehouse) Kegans' headstone: "Our Father and Mother are gone, they lie beneath the sod; Dear parents, though we miss you much, We know you rest with God."

Let me tell you, the Kegans' children forked out for their headstone! It's no mere headstone, but an entire monument. Check this out:


Honestly, John Ross and Clarinda deserve this. They were both there at the birth of the Republic of Texas, John was imprisoned at the notorious Perote prison in Mexico for his role in the Mier Expedition and suffered horrible things he wouldn't even talk about when he returned home. In their photos, they both look so old and tired. But Clarinda wrote her memoirs, and described John as being very funny, very cheerful, etc. He just refused to talk about his experiences at Perote. (Many other men described the horrors they went through, so we know it was no holiday in Cancun.) And Clarinda, by a granddaughter's account, was a more quiet person, but always ready to laugh, and a very loving, devout Christian woman.

Whoops -- I went off down a rabbit trail! I'll tell you more about John Ross and Clarinda some other time. I will just let you know that Clarinda was part of the Runaway Scrape, and she and her family actually watched the Battle of San Jacinto from a thicket of trees!

Anyway -- for a long time I thought I would want to be cremated, but my mother (who is against cremation) made me think the other day when she said, "Isn't it nice to have those graves to go visit? I wonder what people do whose loved ones have been cremated and had their ashes scattered to the four winds?" WOW! Now, having ashes stored in a mausoleum or something might be passable, but just think how these people are robbing their descendants of having a specific spot to visit to make that sort-of connection with their family history!

I've written a novella again. I could really write a lot about many of my ancestors, and hope to do so in future posts. But for now, I'll let this do, and close with:

My heart goes out to those people whose loved ones' gravesites have been desecrated. I pray that they can find peace in knowing that, no matter what may happen to the bodies of the dead, their souls go on, and for those who are Christians, they'll see more than just a body again one day, but the perfected PEOPLE who have gone on!