Following several days of gloom and gray, the sun was shining and the sky was blue.  I was drawn to Lone Fir Pioneer Cemetery with my camera. I've always liked cemeteries. I used to ride my bike to the one in our small town when I was a little girl. Unlike most people, I don't feel scared or freaked out by cemeteries, but I actually feel a sense of peace. They're really just big parks!  

As cemeteries go, Lone Fir is the oldest existing cemetery in Oregon, with many graves dating back to the 1800's.  In 2011 it was listed with National Geographic as one of the top 10 cemeteries in the world! More than 25,000 people are buried here, but years of decay, neglect and poor record keeping in the early years have led to an estimated 10,000 unknown graves. 

      At the northeast corner of the cemetery sits this small grave, all by itself.

 

It's actually a little smaller than this standard 
8 1/2" by 11" paper I placed next to it. The inscription says:


Genevieve Gray
Died April 17, 1912
Aged 3M 12D

That explains why it's so small.  She was only 3 months and 12 days old.

 

Nearby is this beautiful angel, spreading her wings, watching over the grave, making sure their peaceful rest isn't disturbed.

 I saw many grave markers saying "Here Rests A Woodman Of The World".  Curious, I looked this up. Woodmen of the World is a fraternal benefit society that operates a large, privately held insurance company for its members. Its history includes the erection of numerous distinctive tombstones depicting tree stumps across the country prior to 1930.

The organization was founded in 1890 in Omaha Nebraska by Joseph Cullen Root.  Root was a member of several fraternal organizations including the Freemasons.  He founded his own group, Modern Woodmen of America, in 1883 after hearing a sermon about pioneer woodsmen clearing away the forest to provide for their families. Taking his own surname to heart, he wanted to start a society that would "clear away problems of financial security for its members." He moved to Omaha and started Woodmen of the World in 1890.  It is still in existence today.  Here is a link telling you more about the Woodmen of the World. 

Next I visited the grave of Elizabeth and James Stephens. James is considered the donor of the land that is the cemetery, but the history is more convoluted than that.  According to Metro, the public agency that controls Lone Fir, this is the story;

    "In 1854, J.B. Stephens sold his farm, located a few miles east of the small town of Portland, to Colburn Barrell. On the property was the grave of Stephens' father, Emmor, who died in 1846. Barrell agreed to maintain the grave site.
    Colburn Barrell was a partner in a passenger steamship line between Portland and Oregon City. On April 8, 1854, the boiler of their steamship Gazelle exploded while moored near Oregon City. The accident killed several people, including Barrell's business partner, Crawford Dobbins, and a passenger. Barrell buried the victims near Stephens and set aside 10 acres as a cemetery. He named the cemetery Mount Crawford in honor of his friend, Crawford Dobbins.
    By 1866, 20 more acres were added to the original cemetery. Burial plots sold for $10. Colburn thought the cemetery should be owned by the city of Portland and offered it to the city for $4,000. The City Council turned down the offer, citing the location was too far from town. There were no bridges crossing the Willamette River, and the mule-powered Stark Street ferry was slow. Coupled with muddy roads, a funeral procession would be a weary trip at best. The cemetery was eventually sold to Portland investors in 1866 and the name changed to Lone Fir Cemetery for the solitary tree standing on the site."

     .

    

They lived a good long while in the 1800's.  I would love to hear the stories they have to tell!  It was such a different world then, from what it is now, for us.  I found it very interesting that they had written on their gravestones the following; "here we lie by consent." By consent?  I didn't realize we had a choice whether we died or not! What else could they possibly have meant, "by consent?" 
     
When they died in the late 1800's there were only two places that did cremations, and they were both in Pennsylvania, so naturally they would have been buried. "Here we lie by consent, after 57 years, 2 months and 2 days, sojourning through life, awaiting nature's immutable laws to return us back to the elements of the Universe of which we were first composed." Since they lived much longer than 57 years, I'm thinking they were referring to the 57 years as the time that they "sojourned" through life together, as husband and wife.  Is it possible they were buried directly in the ground, without a coffin, and that is what they meant they gave their consent for, allowing nature to return them back to the elements?  Interesting, isn't it? They also have a very unique headstone.  Their likeness is carved into it, as if they are still standing there. He kind of looks like Abe Lincoln, doesn't he?  And how sweet; look, he is holding her hand, for eternity.

 In researching about this couple, I was led to a website where I was able to pull up information on them called Find A Grave. While at the site, I was also able to find the listings of my parents and grandparents, and post pictures and comments to personalize them.  How funny, I didn't know when I began this blog earlier today that it would lead me to the online grave sites of my own loved ones, and make me feel a strong connection with them today, as I write this. Life is funny that way.

 And speaking of that 'lone fir' that the cemetery is named for, here it is. It is now a designated "Heritage Tree", and rightly so!

Wandering along, this headstone was the next to catch my attention - a large gazing ball set on a granite base. Very unique, and the only one of its kind in this cemetery.  I enjoyed playing with the reflections in the ball.

 

     

The dragons carved into the gazing ball are very cool, and appropriate, for this is the headstone of the Dragonhorns!. My thanks to them for such an artistic grave marker. May they rest in peace!

    





 I've taken several walks through Lone Fir, but I'm sure I'll need many more to catch all the unique graves.  You can't help but think about your own life, as you walk through the resting place of so many others who have lived. Some lived long lives, and some very short. I think that's always the hardest to accept, the deaths of those who died young, especially children, and there are quite a few here.

The inscription on the stone says "Too Well Loved To Be Forgotten".  Little Ivan lived only a total of 168 days. So short, but long enough to have permanently touched the lives of those who knew him. Losing a child has got to be the hardest of any loss to endure.  My heart still goes out to two of my friends who have lost their children, way too early.  The first lost her two year old daughter when she drowned in the family's backyard swimming pool.  Such a tragedy.  I've been to many funerals and even picked out several coffins for my own loved ones, but seeing that tiny, little coffin in the front of the room at the memorial service is something I'll never forget. I also went to the funeral of my friend's daughter (who was also my daughter's friend; we used to carpool them to school together) who died when she was just a teenager. Funerals typically have mostly older people with maybe a few younger grandchildren in attendance.  At this funeral, all her high school friends were in attendance, many encountering death for the first time.  Something just didn't seem right, so many, so young, grieving and facing death. Perhaps, instinctively, we all know how valuable our experience on this Earth is, and that is why we are so moved when someone's life is cut short.
   
 It's interesting, and touching, to see the personalization of some of the graves, such as these at little Ivan's.  

 If you look closely, you'll see that the clothing on this little doll is now covered with green moss. That's our Pacific Northwest, stop moving and you become covered with moss! 

Now, onto another unusual grave that I was drawn to, one from the 1800's. What makes this unusual, you might ask?  Well, look at this next picture...

There is a large tree stump right in the middle of Mother Frederick Callou's grave!  You don't usually see this!  They must have planted a small tree way back when she died, and it just grew, and grew.  I don't even want to think about the roots going down and forcing their way into her coffin!  Kind of creepy, but maybe not so, since I do love trees so much.  Maybe Mother Frederick did too, and she wanted to lie in a final embrace with them.  But I have to admit, it was freaky peering down into the dark hole in the stump. Just saying...

One thing I love about Lone Fir are the big trees.  It may have started out with just one (hence the name, Lone Fir) but over the years many trees have been planted.  This tree reminded me of several things.  The knot in the middle has the exact shape of an eye, even with the eyeball.  The knot on the left looks as if it has the image of a person inside it.  The one on the right could be a breast, complete with nipple. It's also wrinkly, reminding me of elephant's knees and skin. It's a weird tree!

     


I noticed the tree when I saw my shadow on it as I was taking the picture of this stone cross.

      Here are some other trees I found photo-worthy...

     Sometimes, it's the little details that catch me.  The moss and ferns growing on a tree...

The image of wings (or maybe an angel?) created when a branch broke off...

Or this little entry into a squirrel or hobbit home at the base of a tree! I can just picture a gnome peeking out!










 My favorite trees, though, are what I call "The Four Sisters", because they make me think of me and my three sisters.  Someday I want to get a picture of the four of us here, together.
  

We are like these four trees. We share the same roots -  our parents, grandparents, homes we lived in, our upbringing which gave us similar character, morals and integrity.

Like these trees, growing up closely together we shared experiences, both good and bad. Sometimes we all share a memory, and other times we are reminded by one or the other when we have forgotten.

         
These four trees stand so close their branches reach out and touch each other.  They grow individually, but also together, straight and tall, reaching for the sky.  They protect each other in a storm.  Their closeness gives them strength in high winds.  So it is with my sisters and me; we each have our own strengths, but together, we are even stronger. Do you have a similar bond with someone? I feel so lucky that I do.
    

Continuing on, I found quite a few headstones with images etched in the stone.  Some are landscapes, quotes, and even photographs of the deceased.  Most of them seem to be Russian folks; wish I could read Russian so I would know what the inscriptions say. 

Beautiful, isn't it? Anyone know what it says?

I think it's great what they can do now.  These memorials are wonderful! No longer is someone just a name with dates.  This medium allows us to see what the person was like, or what they liked. I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered, but a memorial like this sure is nice!

This one is amazing; from a distance it's almost as if you are seeing him walking down the road! 

Wow, I'm tall!  

This one just looked so sweet, I had to check it out.

NancyLee was a beloved mother and grandmother, and the inscription says 
"ours for a little while..."

It's so true; when we love someone so much, no amount of time with them seems to be enough. That's why it's so important not to take anyone for granted, and to appreciate each day you have with those you love. 

This next marker really caught my attention.  It's the only one of its kind in the cemetery.  I think it's just a regular granite headstone, but they painted on it with some type of permanent paint.  Check it out.  I think it's really cool.  Kind of a Grateful Dead theme for a guy who loved to bike?

Moving on, the next to catch my attention was the grave of Cynthia Cunningham 
who died in 1878.

 I looked down at the ground and lying there was this syringe - not too cool.  There aren't any trash receptacles around, so I just left it there.  Honestly, I was afraid to touch it! Hopefully it's from a diabetic who dropped it and not some junkies who hang out to shoot up!

Here is another interesting 'resident' (well, she's gone but her headstone remains) of Lone Fir named Alice Oberle.

"Having reportedly “entertained” 6000 gentlemen, Alice Oberle died of cirrhosis of the liver at only 35. Her customers pooled the money to purchase her monument, one of the most elaborate at Lone Fir and the only one bearing a Celtic cross. Her sister Marie, morally affronted by the glorification of her sister's career, had the stone's inscription removed and Alice’s body moved to Mt. Calvary Cemetery, where the sisters are buried next to each other in modest graves. So, while Alice’s monument remains at Lone Fir, her final resting place is elsewhere."

They say money can't buy you happiness, but it can buy you a mausoleum!  Wealthy businessman, Donald MacLeay, build this mausoleum for his wife, who died giving birth to their child. 

I found it touching that someone brought a single red rose here, placing it by the entrance to the mausoleum.

Nine people are buried here.  Above is a small chapel, but it has been closed due to vandalism. Vandals suck! People who litter, suck! Taggers suck! But mostly people who just drop their cigarette butts on the ground - they suck the worst!  Okay, now that I've shared one of my biggest pet peeves, I can go on.  I used to wander around and play in the mausoleums in the cemetery in my town when I was a little girl. I think it was Oak Park Cemetery.  My friend, Little Linda, and I used to ride our bikes there. No, she wasn't a midget, we called her 'little' Linda because my oldest sister's name is Linda, and that way we knew which Linda we were talking about.  I wonder if they've had to close their mausoleums due to vandalism? I have to say, even back in my days of using cemeteries to hang out and party in, we never vandalized or trashed anything!    

In walking around the cemetery, I can't help but notice that several of the residents seem to be trying to push their way out of the ground.  This one looks like one of those doors you see going into a storm shelter that people use to escape tornadoes.  Another reason it looks like they want to come back above ground, so-to-speak, is that the headstone IS the size of a door; it's not like the other headstones.  It's as if they hoped to someday just push it aside and step back out into the sunshine and fresh air! 

  

You can't see from the picture, but this one was also tipped at an angle as if being pushed up from the ground.  I think the name explains it all (unless you're not familiar with the Twilight series!)

The light was fading, it was very cold, and thoughts of my cozy apartment and a hot bath made me say goodbye to the good people of Lone Fir.  Here's my final pic of the day, showing the light through the trees.  I hope you enjoyed sharing just a few of the sites of this special place with me.  I promise, there will be more, another day.