We live everywhere and die everywhere.

I was driving around Leawood, Kansas, kind of lost, I’ll admit.

I stopped at a big, fancy grocery store for the salad bar and directions. In the middle of the parking lot, like an oasis in a sea of asphalt, was this tiny cemetery.

Once through the gate, traffic noise seemed to fade even with suburban jungle all around. I’d stepped back in time.

Two young men’s graves told me how far back.

When I closed my eyes, I could picture the cool, peaceful spot these pioneers must have chosen. A small stand of trees in the wide open prairie.

Not in their wildest dreams could they have imagined what it would be like here a century later.

The whole place looked neglected. I wondered if anybody still mowed in the summer.

There’s a history of volunteer maintenance at the Linwood Pioneer Cemetery, at least until recently.

This sign was posted on the gate.

Does anybody reading this live near 95th Street and Mission Road in Leawood, Kansas?  What’s the end of this story?

4 thoughts on “We live everywhere and die everywhere.

  1. Gosh, I hope the town doesn’t bulldoze that cemetery! Building over gravesites usually means trouble for later occupants. There’s a section of the NJ turnpike that goes right through a cemetery and let me tell you, there’s some weird energy there.

    • They’ve already moved part of the cemetery and the old church. Not sure about the energy. I didn’t get a vibe while I was there, other than the usual tranquil one.

  2. There is something — I’m not sure what — but SOMETHING about finding a familiar date in a cemetery. I was born September 22 in 1961. In 1903, my grandmother would have been 5 years old. I wonder what she was doing the day that little boy died? She would have been oblivious to it, and completely unaware that 58 years later she would welcome a baby granddaughter into the world.

    Something about cemeteries brings to mind memories that I never had!

    • I know exactly what you mean. The dates are one of the most evocative things about a tombstone. I calculate the number of years between the deaths of a husband and wife, mother and child. I think it’s interesting that people used to record the exact age, down to the month and day as if every moment of life was precious.

      I like the way you put it, “…brings to mind memories that I never had.” Yeah, that’s it.

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