I may never have known about
Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery if it had not been for my own sense of morbidity.
While surfing the web one day, I happened to come across a site that talked
about interesting places in New York City. One such place was advertised
as “Movies in the Cemetery.” I clicked on the link and it brought me to
the homepage of the Green-Wood Cemetery. The Cemetery showed a wide variety
of movies every Friday afternoon and night in its chapel. I found this
to be quite amusing, watching a Disney movie with your children at the
matinee amidst the rotting corpses of the dead. What sort of impression
would that give to little kids? I think seeing 101 Dalmatians in
a cemetery would have given me quite a different experience as a child.
But there were also, more appropriate cult films such as The Rocky Horror
Picture Show, or even Casablanca that were shown at midnight,
and this seemed more targeted to people like myself, who take an interest
in the unusual and strange, not to mention those who harbor a fascination
with death.
At first I thought these
movie showings were just a cheesy way to attract people to the cemetery
because it was not an interesting enough landmark to draw attention on
its own, but once I actually saw the cemetery for myself, I realized that
the movies were an honest effort made by Green-Wood to raise money for
the preservation and restoration of its contents. As soon as I stood at
the beginning of the long paved driveway that led up into the Green-Wood
Cemetery, I knew I had encountered something special. Past the large, black
iron gates and up the driveway was the official gateway into Green-Wood.
It towered above, with arches and spirals inspired by gothic architecture
and alcoves with saints half-hidden inside and the inscription “Come Forth”
carved into the stone. Once inside, I was overwhelmed by the number of
graves that spilled out before me. A city of the dead. Ahead, there were
green grassy hills with elaborate mausoleums cut into their sides. Small
paved roads ran up into those hills and on the knolls themselves were cobblestone
paths, with moss growing between the stones. By foot or by car, the graves
were easily accessible. The tombstones themselves were old and decaying,
with soft grey edges and cracks running though them. Great stone angels
loomed above me on pedestals and atop of headstones. The one that struck
me the most was an angel over the grave of someone named Kaydough. She
was slumped over his grave, hunched in despair. Her wings drooped at her
sides and her tears had long since dried on the cold cement. All the other
angels stood in glory or sympathy, but Kaydough’s angel was beyond pride.
However, proudest of all stood the giant Romanesque statues on great pillars,
displaying the pride and glory of those whose graves they marked. I was
filled with a great peace and calm underneath the grey November skies as
I sat next to a greyhound guarding the entrance to a family plot with a
broken iron gate. Never before had I seen such beautiful tombs, headstones
or statues. In this city of the dead there lies beauty.
The people of New York City
must appreciate this gift of public space that has been given to them.
Like the public parks that are scattered about the city, Green-Wood Cemetery
has as much of a right to be preserved and restored. It is a park in itself,
along with being a cemetery, it is also an “arboretum, wildlife sanctuary,
sculpture garden, a place of architecture, landscape design and history”
(Moylan). The Green-Wood Cemetery is a gem in the dirt of New York. It
is something special the likes of which I have never seen before.
Not every cemetery contains
beauty like Green-Wood. Recently, I visited my grandmother’s grave in Tinley
Park, Illinois for the first time since her death in the summer of 2003,
and the cemetery there gave off a completely different feeling than that
of Green-Wood. As we drove through the gates, they reminded me of those
seen in movies portraying Hollywood filming studios, with a gate for incoming
visitors and a gate for those leaving and a little booth in the middle.
A cheap and fake place. My family and I drove through the cemetery and
all I could see was a vast expanse of flatness. Crops of the dead, not
a city. There were no hills here, no cobblestone paths, and no elaborate
tombs. There were merely sharp and shiny tombstones that screamed NEW and
a few scattered tombs that looked out of place so far above ground. The
grey sky overhead felt oppressive instead of calming and as we reached
my grandmother’s place of interment, I was filled with dread. We reached
the large mausoleum walls and I was confused. I had expected a pink marble
headstone or at least a plaque secured into the ground, marking the space
where my grandmother lay, but all I received was a wall with a square bearing
her name and a space for my grandfather once he passed away. She was not
even in the ground, but stuck in a wall. I was disappointed to say the
least. As we drove away after paying our respects, I looked back at the
cemetery and wished it had been Green-Wood. My grandmother deserved a place
of beauty. My dissatisfaction with my grandmother’s cemetery may have been
because of that exact thing—the fact that my grandmother was buried there.
I had a previous emotional attachment to the cemetery, one involving a
great amount of grief, and this affected how I saw the cemetery itself.
As much as we dislike it,
people need a place to mourn for the past and for their loved ones. The
grieving process is a normal one, we miss the deceased and we miss the
times we had with them, both god and bad. What place could be more appropriate
for this than the cemetery? People feel that they can let go in a cemetery
because it is okay to cry there. People that would not normally cry at
home let the grief build up without a way to release it, but when they
visit the cemetery and are standing face to face with the burial site of
their loved one, they can finally let go because they know that no one
will ridicule them in a place of grief and sadness.
But grief is not the only
emotion that comes in response to death. Since the beginning of time, there
has always been a human fascination with death. Take, for example, the
common highway scenario of gaper’s delay. There has been a horrible accident
on the highway and it has caused a delay in traffic. As you are driving
past, you can see the police lights and hear the sirens of an ambulance.
The cars have been partially blocked by the rescue vehicles and the police
are waving you forward, but you cannot help but peek through the cars to
see if anyone is hurt or missing limbs. You try to see blood on the highway;
a body bag being lifted into the ambulance, anything, and when you see
nothing, you cannot help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Because there
is nothing to shock you, nothing to make your heart jump in your throat.
No blood on the highway. No excitement. The midnight movies at Green-Wood
are another good example of this fascination with death. So are the walking
and self-guided tours of Green-Wood’s famous gravesites you can purchase
at the front desk. Some people come to the cemetery to find peace
and to mourn, others (like myself) come to find inspiration and creativity,
and still more come for their own amusement.
In fact, Green-Wood used
to be a large tourist attraction in the 1850’s, demonstrating the fact
that people, even then, had a strange fascination with death. Because Green-Wood
Cemetery contains not only the loved ones of current and past New Yorkers,
but also the bodies of many famous deceased. Green-Wood offers walking
tours of the gravesites or you may purchase a self-guided tour and stroll
among the headstones of famous persons such as Leonard Bernstein, Aaron
Burr, or even Boss “Tweed” of Chicago (Richman). Several books have been
written about the lives of the famous and infamous inhabitants of Green-Wood.
By 1850, Green-Wood was one of the largest tourist attractions in America,
second only to Niagara Falls (Ford). People used to come to Green-Wood
and eat their picnic lunches on the grass in between graves. Horse-drawn
carriage rides were also offered, and you could ride through the graves,
stopping at any that seemed of interest. Especially interesting must have
been those of politicians of the time. Green-Wood received more political
leaders between 1850 and 1900 than any other cemetery (Richman).
Some people visit the cemetery,
not to further their fascination with death, but instead, they come to
the cemetery just to see that not everything in this world has changed.
Cemeteries were not built for change. They were created to stand the tests
of time, to serve as a living time capsule for those of the present to
encounter. People can visit Green-Wood Cemetery and see tombstones from
the cemetery’s inception in1838 are still readable and standing (Richman).
They can also compare the architecture of the contemporary headstones and
grave markings to those of the past. One thing about death has remained
the same—its representation. The squat headstones, the marble angels, the
huge Roman statues, even the few gaudy pyramid tombs can all be seen marking
graves from the 1800’s and also graves from the 1900’s.
The fact that these markers
have remained the same brings comfort to some, knowing that not everything
in this world has changed or needs to change. They visit the cemetery to
see the history, to reassure themselves that though their loved ones are
dead and buried, this is where they will stay for eternity. Andre Aciman
in Shadow Cities writes about a different type of public space that is
used for the same purpose. He writes of Straus Park, an old park on Broadway,
which is where he goes to remember the times before he lived in New York
City. He remembers Rome and his country of origin; each aspect of the park
brings to him a different memory. Like Straus Park, the Green-Wood Cemetery
is a place where people come to escape the restraints of time. It “is typical
of people who have lost everything, including their roots or ability to
grow new ones” (495) to find public places where they are not faced with
changes. “They may be mobile, scattered, nomadic, dislodged, but in their
jittery state of transience they are thoroughly stationary” (495) when
they have found a place they can call their own. A place where not everything
has changed, a place where they can rest assured knowing that this place
will last for a long, long time. The lives of people change, but public
places like the cemetery, much like Aciman’s beloved Straus Park, will
always be there for them.
Even people who are not
avoiding change need a place to go to get away from their everyday lives.
The great rush of New York City can be overwhelming for many people, and
most do not take the time out of their day to relax. They are rushing to
do everything and rushing to be everywhere. A walk in the park, or even
the cemetery would help to calm the nerves and provide a place away from
the city for one to think.
Though Green-Wood is located
in the middle of the rush of New York City, it still provides a place of
rest and peace. Akin to Aciman’s Straus Park, Green-Wood is located in
the middle of a busy avenue in Brooklyn. It is nearly obscured from view
by the dirty brick buildings covered in rainbow graffiti that surround
it. Across the street from Green-Wood, there are various businesses in
run down buildings, a Dunkin Donuts and a Baskin Robbins, and, not surprisingly,
a headstone retailer. The grassy hillsides seem to rise above this confusion
and offer sanctuary under the great spiral gateway. Because it is full
of hillsides is therefore closer to heaven than the houses with dirty windows
on the street below, this may be the reason for the peace found in Green-Wood.
Whatever the case, “it is difficult to explain what seclusion means when
you find it on an island in the middle of … the roar of midday traffic”(497).
Cars fly by the cemetery on the busy street called 5th avenue, either ignorant,
or too busy to spot the beauty that lies before them.
People need to recognize
what Green-Wood has to offer them, instead of just driving by and passing
it off as ‘just another cemetery’. The location and history of Green-Wood
is only one of the reasons that makes this cemetery so special and important
to New York. The people of New York City need this cemetery as much as
it needs them to keep it alive. Cemeteries are non-profit organizations
and Green-Wood is no exception. It makes the money to preserve the monuments,
statues and grounds by several means. There are five burials conducted
each day at Green-Wood and each burial costs $1,284, plus the cost of a
plot, which is $6,000, but it holds up to three people (Ford). There is
also a tree planting program that takes donations and creates a plaque
in memory of a deceased loved one. But it is important that Green-Wood
stays as it has been for over 150 years, because New Yorkers, along with
others, desperately need this public space.
Works Cited
Aciman, Andre. “Shadow Cities”.
Writing the Essay: Art in the World: The World
Through Art. New York: McGraw
Hill Custom Publishing, 2001.
Ford, Paul. Only the Dead.
23 June 2003 [copyright]. Online. Available: http://www.ftRain.com/GreenwoodCemetery.html.
25 November 2003.
Moylan, Richard J. “Self-guided
Wallking Tours.” The Green-Wood Cemetery. 2003
[copyright] Online. Available:
www.green-wood.com.
25 November 2003.
Richman, Jeffrey I. “Brooklyn’s
Green-Wood Cemetery, New York’s Buried Treasure.”
The Green-Wood Cemetery.
2003 [copyright]. Online. Available:
www.green-wood.com.
25 November 2003.
Winter 2004
