Thursday, June 17, 2010

Places I Remember

There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

John Lennon

 

 

cemetery (1 of 3)

 

During my trip to the east coast last month, I took the opportunity to visit one of those places I remember from childhood, the cemetery.  I remember it fondly because it was where I made my entry into the working world.  In the spring of 1966, I obtained a work permit promptly after turning thirteen, and hired on as a seasonal grounds keeper.  Our work force was composed of three middle school boys and as I recall, the job paid one dollar per hour!

In those days, the working world was all about the cycle of the seasons.  In late March would find us clearing the countless tree limbs that had fallen during the winter storms.  We didn’t have a chain saw so an especially large limb would be hefted to the burn pile by two of three of us.  Yes, we worked harder, not smarter!  Next we would spend about two weeks raking all of the turf grass.  Talk about a boring task!  Finally by late April it was time to begin the turf mowing.  To a middle school boy, there is nothing like the sound and smell of a gasoline powered engine!  We loved our mowing machines but hated using the hand clippers to trim the grass that grew next to the head stones. 

The fall of the year was a magical time as the maple trees began to shed their colorful leaves.  We would spend our after school hours raking the leaves into huge piles, the bigger the better.  Next with the strike of one match, we set the piles ablaze sending flames soaring ten or more into the afternoon skies.  Nothing beats the smell of burning maple leaves!

 

cemetery (3 of 3) 

I worked seasonally at the cemetery until the fall I left for college.  I never noticed until this visit how often the obelisk style monument was used in early 1900s.  The monument in the foreground is nearly sixteen feet in height, constructed of solid granite, and likely cost a king’s ransom when purchased.

 

cemetery (2 of 3)

The Burton family marker is without question my most favorite headstone.  The central portion is a solid chunk of polished granite that is three feet wide and nearly four feet in height.  The ball that balances on the top is just over twelve inches in diameter; I always wondered how in the heck the stone masons moved it.  Legend also has it that if you walked by this stone at night, a hand would reach out and attempt to grab you.  I can’t testify one way or the other regarding the legend because I always made it a practice to be safely home before sunset.

9 comments:

Earl said...

Steve, I really enjoy these personal stories you share. But I think you had an upgrade from some of the starter jobs I had on neighborhood farms as a kid. ;-)

Steve Skinner said...

Earl, the pay wasn't much but I always have hundreds of people under me!

Deanna said...

I couldn't help but think how different times are now. Everything is bigger, better, and faster - high powered mowers, weed whips and chain saws. Makes you wonder if you would have such vivid memories of the signs and smells of the season if you were doing the job today.

How disappointing that the Burton family didn't reach out and BOO you just once!

Steve Skinner said...

Deanna, Without a doubt the "tools of the trade" are much more powerful. Heck, when I worked there we had never heard of a weed eater. Now that's one labor saving device I like!!

Pamela said...

Now kids that age can't work --
unfortunate.

I'm surprised you and your friends didn't sneak back to see the "hand"

Steve Skinner said...

Pamela, but the hand only came out when it was dark and no one wanted to be there then!

Nancy Lewis said...

I really enjoy cemeteries. That might sound strange, but I do. They're so full of history - personal stories of people passed. I like to walk among the markers & read the names & dates, making up my own stories about who they were & how they spent their time on earth. It's also really interesting to go to a cemetery in another country - to see how different they are from the ones at home - or how much they are the same.

Nancy Lewis said...

I really enjoy cemeteries. That might sound strange, but I do. They're so full of history - personal stories of people passed. I like to walk among the markers & read the names & dates, making up my own stories about who they were & how they spent their time on earth. It's also really interesting to go to a cemetery in another country - to see how different they are from the ones at home - or how much they are the same.

Steve Skinner said...

Nancy, I agree, they are without a doubt very interesting places!