Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Since I'm the Columbia Cemetery Examiner (that's a writing gig), I constantly dream up new ways to write about cemeteries and what's in them.
Not the human remains, but what remains of our human story long after we've checked out.
So it was the other day when, while researching something quite different, I stumbled across a PDF booklet about Penitentiary Cemetery in Columbia.
I downloaded said document forthwith and have perused it several times.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Of particular interest to me was the existence of these cemeteries (there are two that I know of in Columbia).
They're exactly what they sound like: where state officials inter those who die while incarcerated. Provided, of course, family members neglect to claim the remains.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
The cemetery at Broad River Correctional Institution less than six miles from my house hasn't seen an interment since 2000. Nowadays if you're not claimed, you're cremated.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
What happens next, I don't know. I'm almost afraid to ask but I will ask.
I plan to go over there within the next couple of days.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
But yesterday TG and I tooled over to Penitentiary -- or State -- Cemetery, which hasn't seen a burial since 1987. It had been in use for nearly a century prior to that.
There isn't much left. Vandals have stolen lots of the metal plates and parts of stones, especially those related to inmates who died by execution. What's extant is in bad condition.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
But the grass is kept nice and the location is peaceful. If you can find it, that is.
I often go to Elmwood Cemetery, a 168-acre parklike burial ground established in 1854, to walk and take pictures. It's visible from I-26, a five-minute drive from downtown Columbia's geographic center.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
But until yesterday I didn't know that Penitentiary Cemetery lies a stone's throw from Elmwood, down a very rutted and washed-out dirt lane accessed from Elmwood's extreme northwest boundary.
TG is intrepid and we followed our noses down there, although the day was dying. Another very overgrown dirt lane branches off to the clearing where the cemetery is situated, enclosed by cyclone fencing.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
The gate was wide open.
I counted approximately fifty gravestones, all from the late 1930s. Many are broken and some are becoming one with the ground. What stubbornly stands upright resembles rotting teeth.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
More recent graves are marked with a "license plate" -- that being a metal sign about twelve by eight inches, bearing only a number.
No names on those.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
There are however, a few larger metal markers imprinted with the name of the deceased inmate. Most of the signs are badly faded and falling down.
By digging around a bit (on the Internet; not in the cemetery) I found that Ellen Kirt, who died on January 25, 1938 -- coincidentally fourteen years to the day before TG was born, and the day my mother turned seven months old -- perished of tuberculosis.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
I don't know how old Ellen was, or what deeds she did to end up in prison. I wonder if, had she lived, she would ever have been free again. At least in the physical sense.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Outside the fence is a large marker denoting the presence of "692 individuals" whose remains lie in a wedge of densely-wooded land between the dirt road that runs alongside the cyclone fence and a dirt road on the other side abutting the railroad track.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
The remains were moved there in 1977 when I-26 was expanded. Too bad, folks. Your grave is now a road.
There were large hoof indentations in the red soil, going in the direction of the railroad tracks.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
"Deer," said TG, pointing.
I took pictures but they didn't turn out so well. I can tell you though, those deer were big and they walked there when the ground was muddied from recent rain.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Not too far from the large mass-grave marker is a ledger broken into four pieces as though a giant stomped on it right in the middle just for spite.
Turning back toward the cyclone-enclosed penitentiary burial ground, I noticed the incongruence of tangled masses of tender English ivy gripping, wrapping, clinging to the fence, flinging long ambitious vines skyward with innocent abandon.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
I read it as life and hope continuing in defiance of the terrible mistakes that lie buried for all time a few feet away.
On the other side of the dirt lane, the darkly wooded mass burial plot is edged by a wall of honeysuckle long and high, the yellow-white blossoms spilling out everywhere, leaking their perfume into the still forgotten greenness of the space.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Before leaving TG and I visited the white-fenced area where lie markers dedicated "In Memory of Those Who Have Contributed Their Physical Being to the Advancement of the Healing Arts."
As we drove away, the day was flaming to a close and I made TG stop so that I could take more pictures.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
He was on the phone with Andrew anyway, who'd called to tell his dad he'd played tennis with a nice Christian girl who happens to be a highly-ranked player at the University of Tennessee.
Yeah, she beat him.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
I'll bet there's a story there. A story about life and its infinite possibilities.
I think I'll go explore some more of those while there's still time.