Dia de Los Muertos: Cemetery Three

Dia de Los Muertos: Cemetery Three

 Getting hungry, we decided to head over to the next stop, Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills and then try and have lunch after. We weren’t quite sure if we were going to be able to make it to the fourth place, Forest Lawn Glendale, before closing time. We headed on the I-5 through downtown and around the North side of L.A., up on the hill, the Hollywood sign in clear view on this beautiful fall day.

 

Passing by Griffith Park,  driving along Forest Lawn Dr., around the bend is the cemetery.  Here,  we shift to my Father’s side of the family. 

 

Stopping of course at the front desk, we received the info we needed and then purchased some carnations and baby’s breath. We wanted to place flowers on both my grandparents and my late Aunt Lorena’s graves. 

Our first stop was my Uncle Harold.  My grandmother had triplets, two survived, Harold and Howard.  They were younger than my father. My Uncle Howard rests at Rose Hills with his wife and son. 

United States Merchant Marine WWII and Korea

Aunt Mary Sawtelle, my dad’s sister was the next memory placard. Both my grandmother and my two aunts were very crafty, especially when it came to crocheting. My sister and I always received a handmade ornament when we'd go to Gramma's for Christmas; one of my favorites, the crocheted angel. (I will post a pic when I find it again amongst my Christmas decor).    

Across and down the hill a little further, but still close, we located my grandparents.   Look who else decided to take a late afternoon stroll.  

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.

 

My Uncle Bert is somewhat a mystery.  He died when I was in the 5^th grade.  It was the first time I observed my father cry.  I never remember meeting him or my dad talking about him much…but then again, my Dad was a quiet, somewhat mysterious man himself. My sister’s oldest son John resembles Uncle Bert so much.  Bert was the oldest child.  

Houston Bertram Markham US Coast Guard

My Grandfather Hubert Markham

My Grandmother Tommie L. Trout Markham

side by side

My grandparents met in Texas. My grandfather worked in a shoe store. My grandmother came in to shop for shoes.  The shoe must have fit, I suppose. Moving in 1924 I am guessing, to California, my grandpa built a house on a steep hill in what is known today as Highland Park, living out the rest of their days there.  My grandmother would lose four sons, my grandfather and a grandson before God took her home. My Grandmother Tommie loved the L.A. Roller Derby, The Thunderbirds.

Within close proximity is my Aunt Lorena, the baby of the family.  She has two wonderful, talented sons, my cousins Ron and Steve.  My Uncle Harold was like a father to the boys.   

This picture taken at my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary, is my father's family. Everyone is pictured except Bert who had already passed away.  My Father is on the far right.

 Matthew 7: 13-14  “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it.  For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.

Isaiah 61:3 To grant those who mourn in Zion,
         Giving them a garland instead of ashes,
         The oil of gladness instead of mourning,
         The mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting.
         So they will be called oaks of righteousness,
         The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified

Revelation 21:6-7

 ⁶ He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. ⁷ Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children.

 

As we were leaving, I snapped a few shots at the entrance, the magnificent fountain, marble statues and the gates.  I walked closer through this particular plot, many Asian names in this area; to photograph the carving a little closer and I spotted this simple little pebble, smiling back at me. 

 Do you see it?  It is in front of her right foot.

"Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time; effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end."

 Anne Louise Germaine de Stael 

Dia De Los Muertos

Dia de los Muertos,  Cemetary Number One

Day of the Dead (Spanish: Día de los Muertos) is a holiday celebrated in Mexico and around the world in many cultures. The holiday focuses on gatherings of family and friends to pray for and remember friends and family members who have died. It is particularly celebrated in Mexico, where it attains the quality of a National Holiday. The celebration takes place on November 1st and 2nd, in connection with the Catholic holidays of All Saints' Day (November 1) and All Souls' Day (November 2). Traditions connected with the holiday include building private altars honoring the deceased using sugar skulls, marigolds, and the favorite foods and beverages of the departed and visiting graves with these as gifts. 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead 
 

 On October 8^th of this year, my sister Lauren and I set out on a different kind of outing, a day documenting and visiting cemeteries within two counties.  In a conversation shared one day, Lauren, a serious, family tree researcher, said that our great-grandparents rested locally. 

“Really? I said. I want to go see…where are they?”

So, she mapped out a day and we set out to visit four local cemeteries.  We only made three, but plan on a second outing in November. 

Beautiful places to visit, one can really enjoy the scenery and take in some of the history and peace of these gardens of rest, when you are visiting on a day that is not sad. Most impressed by the Olivewood Cemetary in Riverside, it is there where I will begin my picture blog and share a smidgen of family history. 

Besides my own family headstones, this cemetery, tucked under the rolling Riverside hills, displayed well-aged markers from turn of the century (the 19th) Californians.  I snapped away at the carved and worn tombstones. 

 My sister finds things out through research, Ancestry.com, and family history stories, letters and many documents.  The internet helps immensly of course.  She has a accordian folder where she keeps many documents like death certificates.  

This is my mother's, father's, mother: Lydia Minerva Harris Greer Gillespie. Her first husband, my Great Grandfather, Lacy Greer, a real cowboy in the old West, (St. John, Arizona), was crushed to death in a cattle stampede.  He left her with seven children. Lydia Minerva remarried, and had three more children with William Gillespie.  They moved to Calif. in 1908. Wm. Gillespie worked for the County of Mojave, building roads. 

Below are unique, and what I found to be interesting tombstones I captured in my photo-taking.  I particularly loved these two crosses.  One a simple, rugged design, the other very intricate with the Celtic scrolls and knots. 

                      Here is someone with Japanese heritage. 

The cemetery is right off the 91 freeway.  There was a lone, elderly proprietor there that helped us.  Giving us the location by lot and row number, we set out to find our family. 

 

This person,  a woodsman, his headstone recognized him as such, with a log topping his grave marker. 

This is the hills directly behind the cemetery, no fencing,  very simple and so beautiful.  

This gentleman was a pastor.  I loved his epitaph rolled out on a scroll. The Scripture at the bottom is Hebrews 11:4 which reads (NAmS):

"By faith Abel offered to God a better sacrifice than Cain, through which he obtained the testimony that he was righteous, God testifying about his gifts, and through faith, though he is dead, he still speaks". 

The chapel at Olivewood Cemetary, Riverside CA.