Rt. 117 btwn. Denmark and BridgtonIn a previous post about a cemetery in Moscow, Haunted Hiker wondered aloud as to why people are fascinated with cemeteries. I didn't have a good answer at the time. As I've driven around the Lake Region, I've passed many small, rural cemeteries and it's given me pause to contemplate her question. For me, when I walk around a cemetery, I try to piece together the life of the person interred with only a name and a couple dates. The Sherlock Holmes portion of my brain kicks in.
Did they die young? Did they live past 100? Were they married? How long did one spouse outlive the other? Did a parent outlive a child? Did a woman and her baby die during childbirth? Did someone die in a war? Sometimes they are obvious, like the gravestone of a man buried in the ghost town of Grafton, Utah, which reads - Killed by Indians.
The other reason is that cemeteries are, obviously, peaceful and serene places. A soothing combination of grass and trees and quiet. It's a shame that we have to seek out the dead for such amenities.
Rt. 117 btwn. Denmark and Bridgton
Rt. 302 in Naples
Rt. 114 btwn. East Sebago and Sebago Lake
Rt. 114 in Gorham
Rt. 237 near South Windham 
Rt. 302 btwn. Raymond and Casco
High St. in Bridgton
Rt. 117 btwn. Denmark and Bridgton
Berry Rd. in Denmark
7 comments:
Having seen a number of these small cemetaries as well, I am struck by the "community feel" they have. It seems as though each one is specific to a few families and very personal.
To date I have yet to stop by one, and have only witnessed the serenity from a passing car. This blog has encouraged me to think more about them and maybe stop for a moment to take a glance at who has contributed to making Maine such a beautiful state...
I encourage you, Peaches, to stop the car and take a walk through a cemetery. The older, the more intimate, the better
Devastatin' your photos are downright beautiful. Perhaps it is the peace and quiet in combination with the "community feel" of a cemetery that makes being in one such a singular experience.
Keep up the Sherlock Holmes. I'd love to read more of your digging and snooping.
Peaches,
None of the cemeteries I saw were associated with a church from what I could tell. The smaller ones appeared to be family cemeteries.
My garadmother gave me my plot in the family grave for my 12th birthday. The 6 Million Dollar Man it wasn't. As I grew older I really learned to appriciate it. Many a night I used to lay down like a corpse, peer thtough my feet and look up at my family name (Slow Adult) on the tombstone.
Aren't peoples date of birth and death on the grave? How hard is it to guess how old they were when they died?
Ernie,
It's not hard, unless you're you. You never did well in school.
Also, you got your plot at 12 because your family figured you'd die at 16 in a horrible industrial accident at a textile plant.
They even had my date of death already on there when they gave it to me.
That's thinking ahead Ernie!
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