What Am I Risking?

Native Americans once believed that a photograph could steal your soul.

This is why I am nervous.

I have been taking pictures of gravestones, storing them in my phone - I feel like I am playing with fire.

I keep a small notebook and pens in my car. At first I was writing down inscriptions that meant something to me. Then I shook the dinosaur off me and realized it's a lot easier to take a picture.

Some of the stories they tell are heartbreaking.

Like the Brown family. Leonard (1827-1894) and his wife, Eunice (1835-1905). Beneath their names are listed what I have to assume are their kids. 

Alfred (1856-1900) - 44 years old. Linda (1857-1890) - 33 years old. Willie (1863-1863). Marybell (1864-1868). Nellie G. (1873-1875).

I am sure this was not uncommon in the 1800's but it doesn't make it any less tragic.

Alfred was 44, Linda was 33, Wille was less than 1 year old, Marybell was 4, Nellie G. was 2. Leonard was alive to witness the deaths of four of their children; Eunice witnessed all five.

In addition, this family bore witness to the Civil War. Can you imagine what that was like? That might have played a part in all this sadness.

Then you have the De Greenia family, who manages to find beauty in death. Their gravestone is gorgeous and peaceful. It is an etching of a spring scene. A flowing river, surrounded by trees, leaves, grass, a large buck standing by the river. Off in the grass, the doe and their fawn are lying together. The detail is specacular - looks more like a picture than an etching.

It is so comforting that I never walked around the stone to get the full names of the people buried there. The back of the stone just has this amazing etching and the name De Greenia written above it.

There are the Kirby's. Another beautiful stone. An etching of 3 doves sitting on a branch with a rose next to them. Jessica L. - March 1,1984 - November 20, 2005.  Father - Kevin R. - July 25, 1958 - ; Mother Robin F. - August 13, 1960 - . This is so sad to me. Jessica died at the age of 21; she awaits the arrival of Mom and Dad. The thought of losing a daughter so young, the thought of names on a gravestone waiting to fill in the right side of the hyphen. Too much, man - too sad.

Then there is Pasquale Alosa and his wife Jennie Sanzone. I photographed their headstone just because there are so few Italians buried in this cemetery.

Pasquale was born (Nata) in Cartone, Italy on April12, 1889 and died (Morta) July 5, 1962. Jennie - Nata on July 10, 1909 in Crotone, Italy; Morta April 16, 1960.

Somehow I get the feeling that Pasquale's birth place is mis-spelled. I find Crotone in Google Earth but not Cartone. Some pig of an American with no respect for Italian culture never bothered to make sure he got the info correct before erroneously capturing it for posterity.

I bet Pasquale was a brick layer. If he built a wall for that pig you better believe it would have been perfect.

Elena Bianco is also listed on the stone. Nata March 2, 1901, Catanzaro, Italy; Morta January 10, 1932. No idea who she is.

I have those pictures and more in my phone. I truly hope I am not showing these people any disrespect. I do it out of respect and awe. But you never know with the dead; they don't communicate verbally but they have their ways, they have their powers.

It makes me uncomfortable, but I don't delete them because I am drawn to the macabre.