Hey, thanks everybody who took my poll last week. Who knew there were so many of us taking our lunches to the grave?
It was one of those slam on the brakes and make a right, no time for turn signals kind of stops. Ever had one of those? Two-lane, State Highway 63 twists through the eastern edge of the Ozark Mountains in southern Missouri. 
About 20 miles south of the capital, Jefferson City, the landscape gets more and more rural. I passed through several tiny towns before the tall, marble crucifix that marked this graveyard called my name.
I parked in a large, gravel lot in front of an auto repair shop right beside the highway. A broken down school bus sat in one corner like it’d been there for years and would be for more. A well used tow truck was parked in front of the boxy, aluminum sided shop.
The Westphalia cemetery sits right next to it on a hillside gently sloping up toward a church with a high, pointed white steeple, the source of the tolling bells.
Twilight added to a sense of being slightly off-center to reality here. My step off the gravel and onto the cemetery’s thick, well-tended lawn was like a step out of time.
Icouldn’t translate the language on the markers.
I don’t speak a word of German. Even the street signs in tiny Westphalia are printed in two languages. The flowing script on the porcelain placards was beautiful though.
Iron work crosses spoke to the poverty and austerity of the folks who settled here.
I got the feeling from looking around that not much had changed.
The notorious outlaw Jessie James is buried (reburied and DNA verified) in Mt. Olivet Cemetery. If you’re into that kind of tombstone tourism, definitely check it out. Kearney’s not shy about claiming its fallen son. Visit his family farm nearby. There’s a Jesse James festival every summer and a gorgeous park in town named after him.
Mount Olivet, Kearney, Missouri
Nobody famous or infamous buried here as far as I could tell. It’s still in town, but off the main drag. Mature trees and pastures border three sides. Nice spot.
Before you head out of town, stop for a great cuppa here at Mojo’s.
This cemetery is one of my favorites and close to home in Kearney, Missouri.
I just love the name! There aren’t any forks in the road here, muddy or otherwise, so I can’t tell you how it came to be called that.
It’s up on a hill, bordered on all sides by wire fences and pasture land, a great, quiet place
to sit under a shady tree and watch the world go by. There are over 400 people buried here, one famous resident, Clellend Miller, was a member of the James gang. Otherwise it’s just regular folks.
I often wonder when I find these little cemeteries out in the middle of nowhere, who gets buried there nowadays. It’s a tiny place. They’d have to be kind of selective about newcomers or they’d over-run the pasture in no time.
I Dig Graves! 