Discovery: Journal Entry on Mount Hope Cemetery, October, 1994


In the process of "downsizing" -- especially all my paper -- something I should have done before my move but had no time for. Came across this journal entry from almost 12 years ago, about exploring Mount Hope Cemetery, back when I was a Rochester "newbie." Well, I'd been in the city almost four years, but had spent most of my time teaching and finishing up my dissertation.

Looking forward to another October, one of my favorite months. Eventually I will scan a few of the photos mentioned here -- when I can afford a new scanner!

I have been taking advantage of the outrageously gorgeous October weather we've been having, going for long, exploratory bike rides and taking photographs, eager to snatch up all the blue skies and sunlight I can to store away in my memories in anticipation for what will likely be a brutally long, cold, snowy winter.

My favorite place for exploring lately has been Mt. Hope Cemetery, which I "discovered" only a few weeks ago. Of course the cemetery has been here almost as long as old "Rochesterville" and "Carthage," both of which ultimately became Rochester. "Carthage" was the name of the town that encompassed what is now my neighborhood, which is about three miles from downtown Rochester. Carthage even used to have its own waterfall and rapids on the banks of the Genessee, now a smooth-flowing, meandering river so calm it looks like a green mirror. Mt. Hope Cemetery is across the river from my neighborhood, on the eastern side of the University of Rochester River campus. (It's called the "River" campus because the greater part of the University was moved some time ago from its campus on University Avenue (what else), which is almost downtown; most of the old buildings on the old campus now house the Eastman Music School, and other arts-oriented buildings.

I "discovered" the Cemetery on a bike ride I took on a day that actually was quite gray and drizzly -- I just needed to get outside and get some exercise, and I planned to ride over to Highland Park (another beautiful place), but encountered a gate to the Cemetery and decided to find out what was there.

Each time I have been there has been a quite mystical experience. There are thousands of graves there. The oldest headstone I've been able to find so far was dated 1796 and honored a wife and husband who were among the earliest settlers. And sadly, a goodly number of headstones are for babies and children. One group of headstones were for the four children of one couple; the oldest in the group was only 22 when he died. I see all these names and dates and I want to know these people's stories. Some of the headstones were decorated with flags and newly planted flowers, even though the death date on the stone was so long ago that nobody in the present could possibly have known that person in the flesh.

What makes the Cemetery particularly special is that, as its name suggest, is on what is about as close as one can get to a "mountain" in these parts. There are hills and tiny valleys throughout, all of them more or less "populated." Some hills are so steep that I had to get off my bike and walk. And sometimes I had to leave my bike behind and hike to the tops of hills steep enough that when I tried to get back down I slipped and fell. And some of the graves are located on such steep slopes that one would need rock climbing equipment to get down. It's a puzzle just to imagine how they managed to dig the graves and put the headstones in. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to have graveside services for these.

Tuesday was the third of my excursions, and the only time I had my camera. I went out Monday evening, about an hour before nightfall, just to get some exercise; but the moment I came to the river I cursed myself for not having it with me. A phrase keeps running through my head: the gentle radiance of late afternoon October light filters through the green and golden and fiery autumn leaves, making the hills and trees diaphanous, spiritual, free. So I determined that if Tuesday turned out as beautiful I would return on my bike, camera in hand.

I spent several hours in the Cemetery Tuesday, riding and walking about, searching for just the right scene to photograph, waiting for the sunlight to begin its magical dance.

Posted: Thu - September 7, 2006 at 10:01 PM          

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