Anne Faye

Nearly two years ago, I came across this stone in the St. Rose Cemetery in Chicopee, MA. I blogged about it here: http://annefaye.blogspot.com/2012/08/a-tombstone-with-story.html and resolved that someday I would find out more about it. I then ordered some photos through the mail and ended up getting 300 copies of this photo by mistake: http://annefaye.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-tomstone-saga-continues.html which truly cemented the need to find out more. I've had some "extra" time on my hands recently and was able to make good on that promise. I contacted the parish affiliated with the cemetery and a very helpful woman dug out "a book that looks like it could contain magic potions" and found the burial record. The young man buried here is Clarence Brodeur. He was buried on April 25, 1935. I was then able to look on Ancestry.com and discover more about him and his family. (I felt a bit like I was stalking a dead man). He was born in Webster, MA, the second ...

Last week my explorations took me to the Springfield (MA) Cemetery where I came across this stone. I'm pretty sure that this is the oldest one I've ever found - it dates from 1664. Another stone truly caught my interest however. It was almost as old - unfortunately the sun was very bright and the deep shadows wouldn't allow me to capture a good photo, but in front of it was a very modern statue with some flowers. Someone remembered that person - after all these years. I wonder what that story is.

I love walking through cemeteries. I pray for the dead and explore the tombstones and wonder about the people remembered there. I posted on Twitter a while back that on a recent exploration I found this unusual stone. It is a flat stone set into the ground, obviously hand-carved by a loved one. It's unusual for two other reasons - first, there is no first name so I don't know if it marks the grave of a young man or a young woman; second, it has a smiley face (under the date). Who was this young person and who carved the stone? There is a story here, and I wish I knew what it was . . . If I get the chance, I might research obits from 1935 and see if I can find out. In the meantime, my imagination will continue to get the best of me.