Sleepy Hollow Cemetery/Author’s Ridge – Concord MA

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A few weeks ago I heard a book calling out to me as I strolled haplessly through a Barnes and Noble. It was titled Over my Dead Body and it was all about the evolution of the garden cemeteries starting in Paris and working their way over here to the United States. It was a very informative (and often funny) read which mentioned a lot of cemeteries here in New England, one of which I’d never been to before.
So that’s how I ended up at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord Massachusetts last week. It’s the home of Author’s Ridge which is where Lousia May Alcott author of Little Women, Henry David Thoreau author of Walden or Life in the Woods, Ralph Waldo Emmerson the poet, essayist, and philosopher, and Nathaniel Hawthorne the author of the Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables are all buried quite close to each other.

Honestly it was weird I didn’t know about this place before seeing as I am constantly enamored with authors, cemeteries, and history. Still. Sleepy Hollow is a large cemetery with clearly marked signs leading to Author’s Ridge and scant parking so keep that in mind if you visit.

So how did all these icons of their era end up buried in a row? Simple, they weren’t. Back in the day the cemetery more or less bought their remains so they could put them here to drive-up tourism. Capitalism at its finest. Nothing is off limits. Not even celebrity corpses. But it worked! And people are STILL flocking here. Although oddly enough there were remarkably few pennies. Alcott had the most. I wonder if they weren’t being cleaned up or if this bunch just wouldn’t be fond of having pennies left for them. They seem the type…

I’d been accidentally stalking the life of Lousia May Alcott for some time weaving in and out of the strange and wonderful landmarks they had something to do with and I have been coming to learn they were a fascinating individual, possibly even a trans or non-binary icon as in their own words they declared, “‘I am more than half-persuaded that I am a man’s soul, put by some freak of nature into a woman’s body.” And they liked to be referred to as gentleman, like a boss! They were buried in a family plot with their author mother Abigail May Alcott and author sisters Elizabeth Sewell Alcott and Abigail May Alcott Nieriker. Their last remaining sister wasn’t a writer but she was inspiration for Meg in Little Women and she also resides in the family plot. Her name was Anna Bronson Alcott Pratt. Pretty hard-hitting literary family there.

Admittedly I don’t know much about Emerson, he’s flown under my radar for some reason. Though I did previously visit the former resting spot of Henry David Thoreau’s cabin in the woods aside Walden Pond. I could appreciate his deep and intense need to be one with the wilderness. However, my knee jerk reaction since childhood was to not have any real fondness for Nathaniel Hawthorne. I decided at 12 he was whiny, and my opinion has only gotten bleaker with age. He wrote The Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables which is a real place and a delight to visit. He’s buried with his likely more talented writer and artist wife Sophia Amelia Peabody Hawthrone who was relocated from her original burial in London in 2006! THAT POOR DEAR.

I will note now there are other authors buried here who are not on author’s ridge. They include but may not be limited to:

Novelist, poet, and screenwriter Millen Brand known for his 1937 novel The Outward Room and his 1948 screenplay The Snake Pit.
Prominent transcendentalist, poet, and dear friend of Thoreau: William Ellery Channing whose books include “The Woodsman” (1849), “Near Home” (1858), and “The Wanderer” (1871)
Intrepid journalist Irene Agnes Dolores Corbally Kuhn who was the first woman to broadcast on the radio in China and whose career spanned a great many interesting topics from interviewing Charlie Chaplin and Margaret Sanger to covering the Lindbergh baby kidnapping.
Robin Moore – the author of The Green Berets and The French Connection
Franklin Benjamin Sanborne – Writer and one of the “Secret Six” who funded John Brown’s Raid on Harper Ferry sparking the Civil War. Gotta love a trouble maker!
Margaret Sidney – Children’s book author of The Little Peppers and How They Grew series under a penname.

Not be outdone there are other people of historical note here. In fact many of them are written up on a board near the entrance of the cemetery that also has a little map and I think a QR code for an audio tour. We decided to wander around like cracked out squirrels looking for whatever took our interest in any particular second weaving in and out of some areas several times, talking to other lost cemetery goers, and getting distracted by beautiful monuments and really ornate slate stones. So much diversity here!

As we wandered we found slates with ornate carvings – sometimes whole family crests, as well as a number of modern stones that had the deceased’s signature on them. I’ve never seen either of these before or a slab of green granite being used instead of marble. There was also Edward Nealy’s memorial which was an old indigenous mortar being currently used as birdbath. A slate stone commemorating a woman who was a teenager when the British came into the tavern she lived atop of and announced their occupation of the colonies. There was even a few Asian stones with characters on them but my two favorites were a fairly recent burial who had A TON of rocks set on top of his stone. He must have been loved by SO MANY people to have acquired that many rocks! On the complete opposite side of the spectrum I found a husband and wife drama from the 1800’s. They were in a family plot and the husband had practically his whole obituary on his stone – totally mental amount of words and aside him his wife had a matching stone that literally only ready her name, date of birth, and date of death. WOW, what happened there?! Upon closer inspection she didn’t have the same surname so I am guessing she remarried after her husband died and then came back to be buried awkwardly in the family plot. Ooooo the scandal!

But I suppose I should get back to the other famous people buried here… My favorite I think was a very unassuming one. Her name was Anne Rainsford French Bush who was the first woman to get a driver’s license! I left her a penny (as there were none there and if I am thankful for anything in this life it’s that I, as the owner of a pair of tits and a twat, have the freedom to drive a car. VERY UNDERATED RIGHT.) Not to be outdone there was also Katherine K Davis who wrote the lyrics for The Little Drummer Boy. Her stone was the hardest to find as it was a flat ground level stone and there were soooooo many ground hornets in the area. Thousands. I tried taking a photo but they were too small to pick up. You’ll just have to believe me this was the biggest swarm of ground hornets I have ever seen in my life. This cemetery is known for bird watching as migrating birds seem to love it here – I suspect many will get eaten by them in a month or two.

Daniel Chester French, the sculptor responsible for the seated Lincoln in Washing DC also shares a residence here with the other authors and artists. And in a quieter but no less important role we also found Mary Lemnist Titcomb – the creator of the first bookwagon (or bookmobile,) Elizabeth Palmer Peabody who helped create the kindergarten system in the US, William Monroe Spencer – the first man in America to manufacture graphite pencils, and Ephraim Wales Bull – who bred the first Concord grapes, and Marc and Emily Daniels – a married couple working in television as a director and camera coordinator respectively. Marc’s resume is impressive including episodes of I Love Lucy, Hogans Heros, and Star Trek and Emily was one of the first women to work behind the scenes with the cameras on shows such as I Love Lucy. Their stones were the only ones we did not find. I don’t know where they were hiding but we looked a good long time for them – with a terrible map, a confused GPS, and a broken gut instinct.

We didn’t bother to try and find the oodles of politicians and famous gun makers. Suffice to say we’re both a little weary of such things at the moment.

All and all this cemetery has soooo many historically interesting people, especially women of note as well as authors. It was on some beautiful grounds and aside from the lack of parking and the thousands of hornets it was actually really pleasant! I would highly suggest it to any cemetery or literary lover.

April 17, 2023 0

The Gun Totem – Providence RI

By now the sun had basically come directly into Providence and there was the smell of bacon as people cooked under it. Not really, but it was close. Luckily the gun totem was only supposed to be a short walk down the street from the Edna Nature Lab. And it was! In a park!

Now the gun totem is a concrete pillar filled with over 1,000 reclaimed guns. And I mean I guess that’s one way to use guns that people no longer want or need…

It’s a weird attraction. Not one to specifically go for but if you’re in the area doing other things by all means give it a little looksee.

From here we took a respite in the park under a tree until I could no longer ignore the sizzling noises coming off my arm and we headed directly back into the sun to find the car. This would require not just beyond oppressive heat and humidity but also a rousing jaunt up a steep hill. And as it turns out we walked right by what was supposed to be the last destination of the day – the John Brown House which has been on my bucket list for over a year now. Sadly, we were both probably 15 minutes away from dying of heat exhaustion and my companion did not understand I wanted to go in and kept walking. So this will remain on my list for now… until I return.

And why did I want to go to the John Brown House? Because it’s a super fucked slice of New England history. I remember distinctly being of elementary school age and being taught how to sing “John Brown’s body lied a-moulderin’ in the grave.” And now here I am, an adult, going, “What the fuck was that about?!”

John Brown was a slave trader who realized later in life that what he was doing was deeply ethically wrong and so he became an abolitionist but not in any sane or rational way. Instead he decided he’d arm a bunch of slaves and start a revolt. The only reason this did not happen was because the slaves he approached basically responded to his offer of free guns by saying, “I don’t know you, I never talked to you, this never happened. GOOD BYE.” AS ANY SANE PERSON WOULD.

In addition to this absolutely mental story there is also a root nailed to a coffin board in the John Brown House that was supposed to be the vaguely human shaped root that they pulled out of Roger William’s grave 200 years after his death. But that’s…. another totally bonkers story for another day!

July 24, 2022 0

Edgar Allen Poe’s grave – Westminster Cemetery – Baltimore Maryland

Before leaving for Maryland my travel companion learned that Edgar Allen Poe was buried in Baltimore and asked if he could be lucky enough to see both the grave of H P Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe in the span of a month. I didn’t see any issue with this as I love walking through cemeteries and used to know The Raven by heart. So of course this was the first thing we had on our list of to-do’s and the first thing we actually accomplished.

Edgar Allen Poe is buried in the Westminster Cemetery which is still attached to a church and is gated with appropriately Gothic looking iron fencing. It was still daylight so we were able to go in and take a respectful look around. A few tourists were crowded around Poe’s monument but the rest of this dainty cemetery was unpopulated by the living. And boy was it unique! Despite being small it had a lot of character. There were historic markers spread out explaining that a lot of the important people of Baltimore were buried here. Some told stories of prominence while others shed light on tragedy like the mother who lost ten children in her lifetime. Because it was part of church property we got to see stones that were right next to the building a few which seemed to be under it. There were also a number of tombs that appeared to be bricked in above ground burials, the likes of which I have never seen around my New England home. I always thought this was the sort of thing cities prone to flooding did but maybe there was some other reason. Also nestled in a quiet and almost hidden corner (which we only discovered after our guest disappeared around a hedge) was a series of monuments that had some Egyptian flare. One was shaped like a pyramid, another had very Egyptian looking busts. I guess it was in vogue at the time.

All and all this gave the entire cemetery a very unique charm. I almost didn’t want to leave. And of course we found both the original grave of Edgar Allen Poe and his current resting place across the cemetery. Both were adorned with beautiful stones. I couldn’t imagine a better place for one of the founders of the horror genre to be spending eternity.

November 14, 2021 0

Redemption Rock – Princeton MA

I am finally back to traveling! Yesterday was my first little adventure of 2019! It’s been raining every week for almost a solid year here, even in the dead of winter when we should have been getting snow. This has not been helpful in making me want to go anywhere or do anything but yesterday was beautiful and I had volunteered to drive a friend to Rhode Island so I figured it was a great excuse to find my first destination of the year.

The GPS brought me to Rhode Island through the back roads and while I was ambling through Princeton Massachusetts I passed Redemption Rock. I said, “On my way back home I am stopping!” I mean how could I not with a name like that??

Even though it was the perfect day for hiking it was still May and in the middle of the week so there was only one other car in the tiny dirt parking lot. And just as foretold there right next to it was indeed a giant flat rock which apparently held some historical significance as it was once used to exchange a hostage in 1676 but we’ll get back to that.

I stopped at the kiosk for a map hoping there was a loop trail here but there didn’t seem to be any maps or mentions of loop trails. I shrugged, slung my camera over my shoulder, and headed into the woods in what looked like a pretty well kept trail. It led me about 250 feet into the woods where it eventually led to the road. Not wanting to cross the road and thinking this was very weird I back tracked. There were indeed trails here, a ton in fact, and there seemed to be about 100 four-way intersections just everywhere. Some looked better traveled than others and I couldn’t be sure which were for humans and which were just deer paths. Below a ledge I found a path that led over a little gully. I found a complete rat’s nest of trails here going in every direction. Half were labelled Midstate Trail with yellow triangles. The other half weren’t marked at all. I was getting uneasy because all these trails couldn’t be the Midstate Trail and even if I could find the one true trail the Midstate Trail is not a happy little day loop – it’s a 92 mile route that ends in Douglas MA. I didn’t want to be stuck on that! So I admit – I didn’t go very far. After so many little turns and then fucking up my knee by tripping over a root on a steep incline I limped back to the parking lot feeling insanely inadequate. It was a beautiful area but I really wouldn’t suggest hiking here – it’s just way too damn confusing.

Which brings me to the history. What’s so amazing about a big flat rock? Initially nothing (although it was fun to scamper to the top of!) Apparently in 1676 the wife of the local Puritan minister Mary Rowlandson along with her three children and twenty other people were kidnapped by indigenous peoples during the King Philip’s War. She was held for six weeks and marched through the woods to raid English villages and evade capture before a ransom was worked out and she was handed over atop Redemption Rock where an inscription still tells the tale. Now this story in and of itself is not particularly unusual – in the early days of New England taking Puritan captives, especially female ones, was pretty common as were hostile interactions with indigenous peoples but what marks Rowlandson’s story as more interesting is the fact that she wrote a book about her experience The Sovereignty and Goodness of God: Being a Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson which was published in 1682 and is now considered a seminal work of captivity narratives and is still available on Amazon at the link above. Not bad for a woman at the time!

May 22, 2019 0

Robert Frost House – Derry NH

Since I was in the area anyway I decided to go to the Robert Frost house, some eight and a half miles from Benson Park. Robert Frost is one of New England’s most famous poets. You probably remember him from The Road Not Taken, you know the one that starts, “Two paths diverged in a yellow wood…” He’s also the delightful curmudgeon who coined, “Good fences make good neighbors.” This is something considering he lived on a large acreage in the middle of nowhere. I can relate. My DNA is also composed of a lot of Hermit fragments.

The house was right off the road, super easy to find. I had heard there were trails nearby but it was getting a little late to be mucking about in the woods all by my lonesome. I am not sure if anyone lives there or not but there is a sign telling you all about it…

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Just up the road I was thrilled to find a happy surprise – an old caboose still sitting on the track outside of a tiny recovered train station that was now being used as a trailhead. I stopped and took a few photos.

Today was also the first day I decided to actually pull over and start reading all the historical markers I had driven by a billion times but never read. This one’s aside the road in Jaffrey, pretty much in the middle of the woods. Look, I learned something!

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June 22, 2017 0

Lowell City Cemetery & Lowell Cemetery

Yet again I set out to go to one cemetery and ended up at another. I can find obscure paths with no markers, historical landmarks no one has ever heard of, cool places guarded by whispering locals, but ask me to find a cemetery, any cemetery what-so-ever and I will find a different one! That’s OK. They’re all beautiful in their own ways. The confusion came from the fact there is both a Lowell City Cemetery (which I ended up at first) and a Lowell Cemetery which has the ever gorgeous Ayer Lion who I like to visit from time to time.

Seeing as I was already at the Lowell City Cemetery I decided to take a quick peak. An enormous monument of an elk had caught my eye as well as an equally enormous statue of a Native American which I couldn’t fathom why it existed in a rich white man’s cemetery. Turns out the Indian was Aspinquid, Chief of the Penacook Indians. Looks like he must have impressed someone… but I am not so certain his age marker of 122 years old at death is correct.

After that little detour I finally arrived back at the correct cemetery, the Lowell Cemetery, where the famous Ayer Lion resides. He’s the saddest lion you will ever meet – carved life size in marble he can melt the heart of anyone who gazes upon his sorrowful face or his retiring paws. I have admired him for years, occasionally stopping in to say hi, and respected him just for the sheer fine art aspect of this monument. The artist who carved him put so much attention to detail that he even got the skin flap between the legs and body completely life-like. I know it sounds strange but I always feel like consoling the poor beast with a hug, as if he were somehow real. He’s garnered much attention over the years, as have a few other monuments like “Witch Bonney” who was never a witch and I am not even sure was named Bonney. One of New England’s favorite past times has been to make up scary bullshit stories to scare our children. That was one of them…

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BONUS! There’s a tiny park just a little ways away from the cemetery which is what I can only call a swamp with a few tables. Totally worth checking out if only for the fact you can say, “I’ve been to a swamp park and befriended some amorous bullfrogs!” I know what you’re thinking and no, none of them turned out to be princes.

June 9, 2017 0

Four Corners Monument (Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah)

I decided to go to the four corners because who wouldn’t at this point? I mean really, its there, might as well go. I sort of figured it’d be this lame monument in the middle of nowhere with nothing much going on around it. I also figured it’d be free. No, you do have to pay a few bucks to see it, nothing too extravagant though. I drove in and found it quite busy. People filed in and out, the vast majority were Americans this time. People came in and took photos of each other touching all four states at once. The usual staged touristy photos were taken.

Around the monument itself there were a few dozen little stands, all with Navajo craftsmen and women. They were selling everything from tacky little four corners memorabilia to hand crafted sand paintings, gorgeous pottery, and lots and lots and lots of jewelry and beadwork. The people selling the stuff all said hi and were very friendly. I talked to a few and one woman told me that the sand paintings were all made of locally collected pigments, taken from various rocks. This was amazing as they were so colorful. I ended up buying one (a depiction of a pot – unique from the other more traditional designs) for $15 as well as a magnet. I have a magnet for a number of my destinations now. It would forever remind me of the irony of the situation – a meaningless monument set up and run by Native Americans for white people to show them the lines they drew in the dirt for their states. I mean whoever thought of that was genius. Props to them!

It was sweltering and hot and I was hungry so I tried some “fried bread.” Turns out that this was just the local way of saying fried dough, which is fine. It marked the end of my fried food tour. I was eating it with cinnamon and sugar in the car when I heard a knock on the window. I looked up and there was a guy that I swear to God looked like the father on one of those crappy 80’s sitcoms, Family Ties, I think. Anyway, that’s aside the point..

“What town?” He said without even coming up with a proper greeting. I recognized his Yankee accent. He was either from New Hampshire or Vermont. Since there was a moment of confused silence the man repeated his question and I answered.. Turns out he was from Bennington Vermont and had been traveling for 16 years. He told me about the book Travelling on a Shoestring and a number of locations I could check out including Monument Valley, just an hour down that road there.

I ended up taking his advice and good thing or else I would have missed Valley of the Gods which would become one of my favorite destinations.

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May 31, 2011 0

And so it Begins!

Ever since I was a tween I dreamed about going across the entire United States and soaking in everything it had to offer. I had grown up in a bubble – and as nice as that bubble was I wanted to know what else was out there besides the trees and stone walls of New Hampshire. Was it really like visiting another planet out West? Where the people the same all over? Was there anything that united this society besides the idea of country? As much as I longed to know the answer I kept my dreams to myself until at the age of 25 an opportunity arose and I figured it’s now or never.

Suddenly my freakish encyclopedic knowledge was actually useful! I picked lots of destinations – everything I had ever wanted to see from the geysers of Yellowstone, to the fossils of Butte National Monument, to the charismatic Robert the Doll in Key West. I was going to do it all.

A map was procured, one of those big pastel maps of the United States you see hanging in history and geography classes in every public school. Pins were stuck into desirable destinations like some sort of 2-D voodoo doll and then the waiting… the ungodly anxious waiting as the weather slowly creaked from one bone frigid season to something a little more livable. It begins!

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May 16, 2011 0