Broken Tombstones

Broken Tombstones
By David Glenn Cox



What kind of people are we? I travel past an old cemetery during the day in Roswell Georgia. It dates from around 1800 and I had always said to myself, I should stop and take a look. The day was beautiful as the autumn leaves fell around me, I had ninety minutes until my next appointment so I stopped and began to look around, these were founders of the community these were pioneers buried under broken and toppled headstones.

So I ask again, What kind of people are we? That even the dead can’t be left in peace, not fallen tombstones but vandalized smashed tombstones, tombstones of infant children with the heads of the little lambs knocked of their markers. How sick and perverse how awful and unworthy of oxygen can these wretches be to do such a thing? I would have more respect for a grave robber at least there is monetary gain as a motivation.

Respect for the dead is a founding principle of humanity and the lack of it an appalling symptom of a serious illness in this country. Even barbarians and sub Neanderthals had respect for graves but in a time of societal stress or collapse graves become fair game. The anger of the living vented out upon the dead, of anger and rage of a living existence with feelings of powerlessness poured out on the truly powerless.

Why shouldn’t it be expected? Look how we as a society treat the living? Why then should we expect any respect for the dead? Our national personality has mutated from a nation of strong individuals building their communities for the benefit of those communities. To a nation of strong individuals seeking only for themselves and building gated communities behind them.

The tombstones of the past tell us of their stories of trial and loss of love and family.
Of a mother by the graves of her five little children the oldest of which lived only to seven years and the youngest but a day. Of a twenty year old man by the grave of his nineteen year old bride died in childbirth buried with her infant daughter. He remarried and his second wife lies buried on his other side with no mention of any more children in their long marriage.

How different we as a people have become, they mourned and loved as a community we as lone individuals. The mansions of the wealthy built right down the street from the less affluent. How different indeed were their churches that condoned slavery yet insisted they praise God while our churches today praise wealth and condone wage slavery. We shall give to the poor and feel good about ourselves but do nothing to end or ease their suffering, as that’s not our problem.

That’s the problem of those other people, the irresponcible, the reckless, the careless. Their children suffer because of their parents not society and least of all not me besides, I gave at church.

So why shouldn’t they tear down the monuments of the dead? This is America we can always make more. We have no problem killing after all isn’t that our new national motto? From E Pluribus Unum meaning from many one to from many mine! A nation for ourselves by ourselves. With millions upon millions of cell phones and communication devices with absolutely no worth while conversation going on. Talking to hear ourselves talk, trying desperately to not be alone.

But we are alone, and in our hearts we know the truth, that our society has gone terribly wrong. We have gone from Sergeant York taking prisoners to the terminator. From the big three at Yalta planning a post war peace to the secret members of Cheney’s energy summit planning the next strike. From Eleanor Roosevelt visiting coal miners and supporting the Tuskegee Airman to Barbara Bush saying the Katrina victims had it pretty good actually Where peace talks are but a prelude to war and paranoia is our best ally.

That we may threaten war to any whom might dare say no to us, fearless that a complicit media will always dream up a worthy pretext. That these are things that must be done, to kill, to injure and to build new cemeteries around the world. But it all comes back to the same question, what kind of people are we?

With no care or concern for our countrymen just a blind allegiance to the God of capitalism. A bland acceptance that we can do no better living with a nocturnal fear that we will be next. A devolution of society, a total breakdown of society where every man for himself is the rule. Where the weak are to be exploited and even the dead are to be abused.

But cemeteries serve a dual role, a place of rest for those whose race is completed and a warning for those of us who still walk above it. That we are but visitors on the surface and we will all be joined together in death. Again the question asks us, what kind of people are we?

What do we want to be remembered for? What will be our legacy? The generation that turned it around or the generation that just turned? Will future generations tend our graves or revile them? What kind of people are we?

go to a cemetery and photograph all the stones then send the photos to the coordinator for that county at <http://www.usgenweb.org> They have a tombstone project that will be more than delighted to receive them. I take one of those dummy plastic credit cards to scrape the moss off the names and dates, then make sure the photo is taken so the name and datew will be readable on the photo. If there is a tall stone, I take a long shot then the next photo is a close up of the names on it. This will freeze those stones in time. I've photographed several whole cemeteries in my county for my website.
One more thing, a couple of sets of rechargeable batteries and you can almost get a whole small cemetery in one take. I've sometimes had to go back numerous times to get the whole cemetery, but it's worth it.