Hi.

I've been fascinated by cemeteries since I was a teen. I don't know why. But today I realize that every cemetery is a window to the past, a place to connect with ancestors and history's notable characters, and a place to research one's genealogy, local history and not so local history. But most of all, a place to remember and be near deceased loved ones.

When I first found this terrific web site, I was awe-struck. As a matter of fact, I went "Awwww!"

It's cool to see where the famous and not so famous are buried. I am surprised to see that many of the rich and famous have a headstone or grave marker no bigger than a bread box. On the other hand, it's cool to see the more spectacular graves of some of the rich and powerful people of the past.

I've started to add some of my ancestors here. If you see that we might have an ancestor in common, send me a message and let's discuss it.

When grave hunting, don't forget to wear a bright orange vest, so that other grave hunters can see you.

Happy hunting.

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BEYOND
-by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

"It seemeth such a little way to me
Across to that strange country – the Beyond;
And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be
The home of those whom I am so fond,
They make it seem familiar and most dear,
As journeying friends bring distant regions near.

So close it lies, that when my sight is clear
I think I almost see the gleaming strand.
I know I feel those who have gone from here
Come near enough sometimes, to touch my hand.
I often think, but for our veiled eyes,
We should find heaven right round about us lies.

I cannot make it seem a day to dread,
When from this dear earth I shall journey out
To that still dear country of the dead,
And join the lost ones, so long dreamed about.
I love this world, yet shall I love to go
And meet the friends who wait for me, I know.

I never stand above a bier and see
The seal of death set on some well-loved face
But that I think 'One more to welcome me,
When I shall cross the intervening space
Between this land and that one "over there";
One more to make the strange Beyond seem fair.'

And so for me there is no sting to death,
And so the grave has lost its victory.
It is but crossing – with a bated breath,
And white, set face – a little strip of sea,
To find the loved ones waiting on the shore,
More beautiful, more precious than before."

-Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Hi.

I've been fascinated by cemeteries since I was a teen. I don't know why. But today I realize that every cemetery is a window to the past, a place to connect with ancestors and history's notable characters, and a place to research one's genealogy, local history and not so local history. But most of all, a place to remember and be near deceased loved ones.

When I first found this terrific web site, I was awe-struck. As a matter of fact, I went "Awwww!"

It's cool to see where the famous and not so famous are buried. I am surprised to see that many of the rich and famous have a headstone or grave marker no bigger than a bread box. On the other hand, it's cool to see the more spectacular graves of some of the rich and powerful people of the past.

I've started to add some of my ancestors here. If you see that we might have an ancestor in common, send me a message and let's discuss it.

When grave hunting, don't forget to wear a bright orange vest, so that other grave hunters can see you.

Happy hunting.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

BEYOND
-by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

"It seemeth such a little way to me
Across to that strange country – the Beyond;
And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be
The home of those whom I am so fond,
They make it seem familiar and most dear,
As journeying friends bring distant regions near.

So close it lies, that when my sight is clear
I think I almost see the gleaming strand.
I know I feel those who have gone from here
Come near enough sometimes, to touch my hand.
I often think, but for our veiled eyes,
We should find heaven right round about us lies.

I cannot make it seem a day to dread,
When from this dear earth I shall journey out
To that still dear country of the dead,
And join the lost ones, so long dreamed about.
I love this world, yet shall I love to go
And meet the friends who wait for me, I know.

I never stand above a bier and see
The seal of death set on some well-loved face
But that I think 'One more to welcome me,
When I shall cross the intervening space
Between this land and that one "over there";
One more to make the strange Beyond seem fair.'

And so for me there is no sting to death,
And so the grave has lost its victory.
It is but crossing – with a bated breath,
And white, set face – a little strip of sea,
To find the loved ones waiting on the shore,
More beautiful, more precious than before."

-Ella Wheeler Wilcox