Cemeteries are meant to be permanent places of remembrance, but history shows that isn’t always the case.
As cities grow and land becomes more valuable, burial grounds are sometimes neglected, relocated, or even erased. It’s a reminder that the places around us are constantly changing, and that some stories can easily be lost if no one takes the time to document them.
That’s what drew me to the work of cemetery photographer and writer Ed Snyder. I’ve been following Snyder on Instagram for a while, and I’ve also enjoyed reading his blog, The Cemetery Traveler. I even included his blog in a previous post about some of my favourite cemetery bloggers.
So, when I heard that he had released a new book, Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs, I was excited to check it out.
“Since its inception, Philadelphia has created spaces for its dead. Some still exist, but many are gone or have been neglected and teeter on the edge of oblivion. Between 1850 and 1950, cemeteries across the nation disappeared as cities grew—developers wanted the land. Accompanied by Snyder’s photographs, the reader is taken through Philadelphia and surrounding areas, examining cemeteries of all sizes and eras—many that were destroyed in the name of progress.”
Published in 2025, as part of the America Through Time series, the book explores cemeteries in and around Philadelphia that have been abandoned, neglected, or even erased over time. Snyder explains that as cities expanded between 1850 and 1950, many cemeteries across the United States disappeared as developers sought land for growing communities.1
The book takes readers on a tour of these forgotten places.
Some of the stories are surprising, including a graveyard that now sits beneath a playground, tombstones discovered in the Delaware River, and an abandoned burial ground hidden in the woods. While some stories are frustrating, others are encouraging. In a few cases, volunteers have stepped in to restore them.
Of course, the highlight of the book is the photography.
Snyder’s full colour images are beautiful and really help tell the story of each cemetery. The photos show both the beauty of these places and the reality of their condition. It’s obvious that he cares about documenting them before they disappear completely. Snyder approaches each one with curiosity and respect, which makes the book enjoyable even if you’re not already familiar with Philadelphia’s cemetery history.
Overall, Abandoned and Forgotten Cemeteries of Philadelphia and its Environs is a great read for anyone who enjoys history or has an interest in cemeteries. If you like forgotten places, local history, and cemetery photography, I think it’s worth adding to your reading list.
I am always on the hunt for cemetery-related book recommendations. If you are an author and have a cemetery-related book you would like me to review, please reach out at hello@chantallarochelle.ca. I would love to hear from you!
Some stories stay with you for a long time. Pamela Harvey’s story was one of those, for me.
For decades, Pamela was one of Sudbury’s missing persons. Her name appeared on lists of unsolved cases and in newspaper articles. Her family spent years wondering what happened and hoping that one day they would finally know the truth.
After 47 years, that answer finally came.
Who Was Pamela Harvey?
Before Pamela Harvey became known as one of Sudbury’s missing persons, she was a daughter, a sister, a mother, and someone who loved adventure.
Pam, as her family called her, was born and raised in McKellar, Ontario. She was independent, headstrong, and always looking for new adventures.1 Shortly after turning 18, she moved west to British Columbia, where she met Richard “Rick” Rousseau.1 The couple later welcomed their son, Ricky, but after their relationship ended, Pam returned to Ontario to raise her son closer to family.1
Back in Ontario, Pam worked as a waitress in Parry Sound before moving to Sudbury in 1977.1 Her family described her as bright, full of personality, and easy to befriend.1 She worked hard to support her young son and build a life for the two of them.1
In Sudbury, Pam lived with little Ricky in an apartment on Lloyd Street and worked at the Kingsway Hotel.1 She was a devoted mother, so when her sister Cate received a call that Ricky had been left in someone else’s care and that Pam was gone, the family immediately knew something was wrong.1
Pam’s family travelled to Sudbury to bring Ricky home and try to figure out what had happened. When they entered her apartment, they found her clothing, jewellery, and other personal belongings still there.1 To them, it did not look like Pam had simply walked away from her life.1
Pam was officially reported missing by her father, Gerald Harvey, on Christmas Day, 1978.1 She was only 23 years old.
For decades, her family lived with unanswered questions about what had happened to her.
Unsolved
Over the years, questions remained about whether Pam may have known something connected to a violent incident that happened in Sudbury around the same time she disappeared.1 There were also questions about whether Pam may have witnessed a murder. Without knowing what happened to her, it remained one of the many unanswered questions surrounding her case.1
I had the opportunity to work with local author Sarah May on her book Unsolved Sudbury, which featured Pam’s story. At the book launch, her son and other family members attended. It was amazing to have them there, but it was also heartbreaking. It was clear how much Pam was missed, and how large a space she had left behind in their family and their hearts.
One of the hopes behind the book was that by continuing to share these stories, new information might come forward and help bring answers to families who had been waiting for them.
Unsolved Sudbury: Missing, Murdered, Unexplained. by Sarah May.
Identified
After nearly five decades of questions and uncertainty, there was finally a breakthrough in the case.
In March 1979, the body of an unidentified woman was discovered in St-Eustache, Quebec.2 Investigators determined that she had been the victim of a homicide, but her identity had remained unknown for decades.2
Although forensic technology was limited at the time, evidence collected during the original investigation was carefully preserved.2 In 2026, a collaborative effort between the Sûreté du Québec, the Greater Sudbury Police Service, the Québec Coroner’s Office, and the Laboratoire de sciences judiciaires et de médecine légale used modern forensic methods, including DNA analysis, to identify the woman as Pamela Harvey.2
After decades of uncertainty, Pam’s family finally had some answers.
Although 47 years had passed, the evidence that helped identify Pam had been carefully preserved. It is a powerful reminder that preserving stories matters. The details we save today can help bring someone’s story back into the light years later.
When I read the news, I immediately thought back to that book launch and to Pam’s family. I thought about all the years they had spent hoping and looking for answers. Nothing can undo that kind of loss, but there is something meaningful about finally being able to give a name back to a person who had been unknown for so long.
It was a bright and sunny day when I visited Lakeview Cemetery. The rural cemetery was quiet, and I wasn’t exactly sure where Pam was buried, so I walked the rows of headstones. I knew I was looking for a grey marker with two ceramic portraits on it.
After searching for a while, I spotted the stone in the distance. There was Pam’s face looking back at me.
Pam shares a gravestone with her father, Gerald, who passed away in 2015. Her mother, Yvonne, also has a place in the family plot and is still living. A ceramic portrait of Gerald and Yvonne sits beside the Harvey family name, while a portrait of Pam sits above her epitaph. It is the same portrait that was often used in the media when talking about her disappearance.
“Pamela Orlean Mar. 7, 1955 Always loved. Never forgotten”
Her death date is still blank.
If I had walked up the left side of the cemetery first, I would have seen the Harvey name engraved on the back of the stone. Instead, I came upon Pam’s portrait first.
It was really moving to visit her gravestone in person. For the longest time, the stone had been a cenotaph, a memorial to someone whose final resting place was unknown.
I don’t know if Pam will eventually be brought home to rest beside her father. I hope she will. But there’s something comforting about knowing where she is now, even if many questions about what happened to her, still remain.
There was one thought I couldn’t shake as I stood there. Pam had been found nearly fifty years ago, but no one knew it was her.
The advances in forensic technology are pretty amazing.
Evidence that was collected nearly 50 years ago was still there, waiting for the technology that could finally give Pam her name back. I hope we continue to hear more stories like this, where missing people are identified, and families finally get the chance to bring their loved ones home, and find some closure.
It feels a bit funny saying that, when things have already been pretty quiet here, but summer is short and I need to take advantage. Plus there are still so many stories I want to explore.
I’ve got a couple of road trips planned, plus some beach days sprinkled in between. I want to make sure I actually take a break. A bit of exploring, a bit of driving around, and a bit of doing absolutely nothing for once.
Yes, beach days mean I’ll probably have a book with me, but research can still be relaxing, right?
So, the blog will be quiet for about two weeks, but I’ll still be posting on social media like usual, and I’ll likely throw up a few reels here and there from whatever I get up to.
I’ll be back after the break with new photos and stories from what I find along the way.
I hope everyone gets a bit of time this summer to step away from routine and do something you enjoy.
It’s the perfect time to fire up the grill, gather friends and family, and enjoy long summer evenings filled with good food and good company. So while researching gravestone recipes online, I came across what felt like the perfect summer cemetery recipe to try.
The grave of Jono Bot features more than just his name and dates. His monument also includes one of his favourite marinade recipes, permanently etched in stone. It features an airbrushed image of Jono grilling at a barbecue, with a recipe inscribed in his own handwriting.1
The Story Behind the Stone
Jon Breen “Jono” Bot was born on January 26, 1956.² He grew up near Luverne, Minnesota, before building a name for himself in nearby Sioux Falls, South Dakota. There, he owned several restaurants and bars that became gathering places for good food, live music, and spending time with friends and family.3
One of his best-known contributions was JonoFest, a music event named after him that celebrated local bands and became a Sioux Falls tradition.3 The festival drew thousands of people over the years and reflected his strong connection to the local music scene and community.
That love of food and hospitality comes through clearly in his memorial. Instead of choosing a traditional design, Jono’s gravestone celebrates something he genuinely loved doing. The result is a very personal memorial that immediately catches your attention.
Recipe gravestones are always fascinating because they preserve something from everyday life. Some memorials focus on careers, hobbies, or favourite quotes. Others, like this one, celebrate the simple moments that bring people together.
Jono passed away on September 25, 2018, at the age of 62.2 He is laid to rest at Saint Catherine Cemetery in Luverne, Minnesota. His obituary opens with the line, “After the band finished the final encore and the house lights came up, Jono Bot left the show and stepped out into the hands of God.”3 It feels especially fitting considering how connected he was to music, community events, and bringing people together.
Gravestone of Jon Bot. Saint Catherine Cemetery in Luverne, Minnesota. Photo by Find a Grave contributor, Denise1964. Photo used with permission.
Here is the recipe exactly as it appears on the gravestone:
Jono’s Jack Daniel’s Marinade
1 1/2 cup water
2/3 cup soy
1/2 cup bourbon
3 tb spoon Worch
2 “ lemon juice
1/4 cup brown sugar
A couple things stood out to me right away. First, “Worch” is shorthand for Worcestershire sauce. Second, despite the title mentioning Jack Daniel’s, the recipe itself simply says “bourbon.”
Since this is a marinade, I assumed the meat should sit for at least a couple of hours, or ideally overnight, before cooking. I decided to try it on pork chops.
In the Kitchen
This recipe was incredibly easy to put together. I only needed to pick up a few things from the grocery store. I had run out of soy sauce, needed a fresh lemon, and, of course, I needed the whiskey.
That sent me down an interesting rabbit hole about the difference between bourbon and whiskey.
The recipe is called Jono’s Jack Daniel’s Marinade, but the ingredients on the gravestone simply list bourbon. Since I was curious about the difference, I stopped by my local LCBO and asked one of the staff members for some advice.
There was one small problem right away. At the moment, American alcohol has been removed from LCBO shelves as part of Ontario’s response to the ongoing trade dispute between Canada and the United States. That meant Jack Daniel’s wasn’t an option.
Instead, the staff member recommended Jameson’s Irish Whiskey. He explained that, because Jack Daniel’s is made using the sour mash process, Jameson’s would be one of the closest alternatives currently available.
I also asked about the bourbon versus whiskey question.
He explained that all bourbon is whiskey, but not all whiskey is bourbon. It turns out that bourbon has to meet some specific legal requirements, including being made in the United States from a mash containing at least 51% corn and aged in new, charred oak barrels. Even though he suggested another whiskey that was a little closer to a traditional bourbon, I decided to stick with something closer to Jack Daniel’s since that’s what the recipe is named after.
Once I had all the ingredients, making the marinade couldn’t have been easier. I grabbed a large bowl, measured out all the ingredients, and mixed them in the same order as they appear on the gravestone.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. With half a cup of whiskey in the recipe, it definitely had a strong aroma. The marinade was also very dark, which made it a bit tricky to photograph.
To test it out, I thawed two pork chops from my freezer and let them marinate overnight. They were completely submerged, so I probably could have added another piece or two of meat, but that’s all I had. The next morning, I flipped them over and let them continue marinating until it was time to barbecue after work.
Dinner almost went exactly as planned.
I fired up the barbecue and added the pork chops, along with some corn and green beans. Then, halfway through cooking, I ran out of propane! Thankfully, I was able to finish everything off in the oven. My mom also shared some of her potato wedges, that she had made, to round out the dish.
Despite the unexpected interruption, the pork chops turned out fantastic. They were flavourful, juicy, and had just the right balance of sweetness and savoury flavour. This is definitely a recipe I’ll be making again. It’s so simple to prepare, perfect for summer barbecues, and one I can easily see serving to friends and family.
A favourite barbecue recipe may seem simple, but it can say a lot about a person and the memories they shared with others.
Jono’s gravestone does exactly that. Even years later, it still encourages people to fire up the grill and try something that clearly meant a lot to him.
Thanks for reading!
References:
To Die For: ACookbook of Gravestone Recipes by Rosie Grant | Book
At the beginning of June, my fiancé and I packed up the car and headed east to Matane, Quebec, for the Gaspesian Metal Fest. Since it’s about a 14-hour drive from home, we decided to turn the trip into a full cemetery road trip adventure!
Our first stop was Gatineau, where we stayed with an old friend for the night. While we were there, he took us to a very cool spot in Ottawa called Pub Italia. The place had such an interesting vibe. The decor was full of vintage church pieces and religious items, most of them apparently thrifted over the years. It honestly felt like wandering through an old church basement, mixed with a pub. They also have something called the Beer Bible, which was a massive menu packed with beer choices from all over the place. It was fun flipping through and seeing the huge variety they offered. They don’t serve flights, but they were happy to offer samples so you could try a few different beers before deciding.
The following morning, we hit the road again and made the long drive the rest of the way to Matane. After spending so many hours in the car, we were more than happy to stretch our legs once we arrived. Matane sits right beside the St. Lawrence River where it meets the Atlantic Ocean, so the entire town has beautiful seaside views.
The tide was out when we stopped along the shore, so we wandered out across the rocks and walked the beach for a little bit. Chris found a piece of sea glass, and I found a couple of empty crab shells that absolutely came home with me. I can’t resist bringing home little nature treasures from road trips.
After checking into our hotel, we headed downtown to visit the local craft brewery and grab supper. We ordered deep fried pickles that we both agreed were some of the best we’ve ever had. We also had a couple of beer flights so we could sample different brews.
The next morning was dedicated to cemetery exploring.
The first cemeteries we visited were right along the coast, and the ocean views were beautiful. Some of them had large statues, mixed in with smaller obelisks and older gravestones. I also started noticing similarities in the cemetery gates as we visited more places. A couple of them had “R.I.P.” worked directly into the gate designs, which I thought was an interesting detail.
One thing I noticed on my last Quebec cemetery road trip was that many cemeteries seem to simply take the name of the town they are located in instead of having distinct names like Woodland Cemetery or Parklawn Cemetery. That seemed to be true in eastern Quebec as well. Most of the cemeteries didn’t have signs at the entrances. Instead, I found a few stones deeper inside the cemeteries that had the cemetery names carved into them.
Between cemetery stops, we visited the Matane Lighthouse and Maritime Museum. This ended up being one of the highlights of the trip for me. Built in 1907, the lighthouse still overlooks the shoreline and has become one of Matane’s best-known landmarks. We practically had the whole place to ourselves, so we wandered through the exhibits before climbing to the top of the lighthouse.
The audio tour was well done, and part of the experience included carrying a large keyring filled with old skeleton keys to the lighthouse tower itself. Since the tower stays locked, you need the key to make your way up the spiral staircase, which honestly made it feel like we were lighthouse keepers heading up to check on the light.
The tour ended with a local folktale about mermaids that claimed sea glass was actually mermaid tears. That felt especially fitting since Chris had found a piece of sea glass the day before. Folklore can be such a fun part of travelling because every area seems to have its own stories and legends.
After the lighthouse, we visited a few nearby villages and stopped at a couple more cemeteries before grabbing lunch. The last cemetery we visited was right across the street from a Dixie Lee, so it felt like a natural place to stop and grab something to eat after exploring. We ended up learning it was actually a chain restaurant, but it hit the spot after a busy morning on the road.
Matane is pretty well known for its shrimp and seafood. We had been hoping to try shrimp poutine and lobster rolls while we were there, but unfortunately we were a little too early in the season. I still managed to get some popcorn shrimp at Dixie Lee though, so at least I got a small taste of the local seafood.
Later that afternoon, we freshened up and headed to the Gaspesian Metal Fest. The venue is right on the waterfront, so it was easy to settle in on the patio with a drink, listen to the bands, and watch the waves roll in at the same time.
That night, we had supper with the guys from Sandveiss, who we had travelled specifically to see. They were super cool, and we had some good conversations throughout the evening. Their set was fantastic and completely worth the drive.
Before leaving, we grabbed some band merch and said goodbye to everyone. The only disappointing part was missing out on the festival t-shirt because they had completely sold out by the time we got there. The design featured a shrimp throwing the horns, which honestly sounds perfect for a metal festival in Matane.
The next day was spent driving the 14 hours back home. Since the trip back was so long, we didn’t stop at any cemeteries along the way, though I definitely took screenshots on Google Maps for future trips.
By the time we finally got home, we were both exhausted, sore, and very ready to sleep. Still, it was such a fun trip, and I am really glad we turned a concert weekend into a full cemetery road trip adventure.
Last month, I ran into some pretty devastating technical issues that threw a major wrench into both my workflow and my organization system. Thankfully, I’ve managed to sort out most of the big problems, but now comes the long process of going through files, reorganizing folders, and figuring out exactly where everything ended up. That is definitely shaping up to be a winter project.
Right now, though, summer is calling.
Around here, nice weather never lasts long enough, and I fully intend to take advantage of every road trip, cemetery visit, and photography adventure I can before the snow flies again and I retreat into hibernation mode at my computer.
The good news is that while the blog may have been quiet, I certainly haven’t been.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve collected a lot of stories, photos, and cemetery experiences that I’m excited to finally start sharing. There are seaside cemeteries overlooking the water, historic burial grounds filled with fascinating history, and even an enchanted kingdom that felt like something straight out of a storybook.
A little taste of my most recent cemetery road trips.
I’ve also visited some beautiful small towns, discovered hidden details tucked away in old cemeteries, and stumbled across a few unexpected stories that I can’t wait to dive deeper into. Honestly, that is one of my favourite parts of cemetery photography. You never really know what you’re going to uncover until you start exploring.
So, consider this my official “I’m back” post.
I’m looking forward to getting back into a regular posting schedule again, sharing more road trips, more history, more photography, and probably a few odd little discoveries along the way, too.
Thanks for hanging around while I worked through the technical mess behind the scenes. I’m happy to be back and can’t wait to share more cemetery adventures soon.
This week’s blog post is going to look a little different.
Earlier this week, my cat stepped on my keyboard and somehow managed to delete my entire cemetery photography folder. Years of cemetery photos, research, blog drafts, and organizing work disappeared in an instant. Needless to say, it has been a stressful few days.
Thankfully, I do have a backup from early 2025, so not everything is gone. I’ve also been working through recovery software trying to salvage as much as possible from my hard drive. So far, I think I’ve managed to recover most of it, but there are still around 800 files missing, and I’m not yet sure exactly what was lost.
Right now, my main focus is rebuilding and reorganizing everything. Once I finish recovering what I can, I’ll need to merge those files with my backup and basically piece my archive back together folder by folder. It’s going to take some time.
Unfortunately, that also means the post I had planned for this week is going to be delayed while I sort everything out.
This has been a painful reminder about the importance of backups. I had actually planned to buy a new terabyte drive earlier this year and start doing more regular backups, but I kept putting it off.
I definitely regret that decision now.
Once everything is stabilized again, I’ll be setting up a much cleaner backup system and doing monthly backups moving forward.
I’m not going to pretend this week has been easy. I’ve lost sleep over it, and seeing years of work suddenly disappear was honestly heartbreaking. But I’m trying to stay hopeful. I think most of the archive can be recovered, even if rebuilding everything will take a while.
So if things seem a little quieter here over the next little bit, that’s why. And if there’s one thing I can pass along from this experience: back up your files.
Seriously. Don’t wait until something goes wrong.
Thanks for sticking with me while I get things back in order.
Some cemetery stories come from wandering through the rows of gravestones in person, but others show up through research, photographs, and the unexpected things people choose to leave behind on a memorial.
This is one of those stories.
A French Silk Pie recipe engraved on a gravestone somehow manages to feel sweet, funny, personal, and a little unexpected all at once. It turns a memorial into something that feels almost like a family recipe card left behind for anyone curious enough to stop and read it.
Sharon Kay Edwards is remembered in a way that feels very real and relatable. The front of her memorial carries the line: “Well, that didn’t go how I thought it would…” which genuinely made me laugh the first time I read it.
She is buried in Friends Cemetery, a cemetery that also holds the graves of baseball brothers Clete Boyer, Cloyd Boyer, and Ken Boyer.¹
Sharon’s obituary talks about her life, family, and the people she loved, but there is absolutely no mention of French Silk Pie.² No hints. No baking references. Nothing that prepares you for what is carved onto the back of her headstone.
On the back of her tombstone is a full French Silk Pie recipe, engraved into the stone as though it was always meant to be shared and passed around.
Sharon’s French Silk Pie gravestone recipe. Photo by Jill Petracek.
Here is the recipe exactly as it appears on the stone :
Sharon’s French Silk Pie
1 Stick butter
3/4 C. Sugar
2 Squares Choc.
Unsweetened. Melted. Cooled
1 Tsp. Vanilla
2 Eggs
Cream Butter. Add sugar gradually. Cream well. Blend in choc. and vanilla. Add eggs 1 at a time. Beat 5 min after each egg.
Crust
2 Cups flour
1 Cup chopped pecans
1 Tsp. Vanilla
2 Sticks butter (1 cup)
Melt butter. Add 1st 3 ingredients. Press into pie plate. Bake at 400 degrees until brown.
In the Kitchen
This recipe has a surprisingly small ingredient list, so pulling everything together was pretty easy.
The raw eggs were the first thing that piqued my interest. I had to look into that a little bit. Traditional French Silk Pie recipes often relied on them for that smooth, rich texture, but modern versions usually recommend pasteurized eggs or other safer methods while still aiming for that same silky finish.³
I was not able to find pasteurized eggs at my local grocery store, so I decided to live dangerously and use regular eggs.
I started with the crust first.
I mixed everything into a rough dough and pressed it into a pie plate. I have long acrylic nails, so this was a bit more difficult than I thought it would be. I ended up using my knuckles and the palm of my hand to flatten everything out and get it somewhat even.
The recipe doesn’t mention pie weights, but some of my research had suggested them. I don’t have any pie weights anyway, so instead I just poked holes in the crust with a fork and hoped for the best.
Into the oven it went for 15 minutes. After checking on it, I put it back in for another five. It probably could have baked a little longer, but I was scared of burning it and ruining the whole thing.
After 20 minutes total, I pulled it out and left it on a wire rack to cool while I started the filling.
The filling definitely took more effort. I followed the instructions exactly as written and used my hand mixer to save my wrists a bit, but beating each egg for five full minutes still felt like an upper-body workout.
As soon as I added the first egg, the texture noticeably changed and became lighter and fluffier. It actually reminded me a bit of making meringue. I kept scraping down the sides of the bowl while mixing to make sure everything blended properly.
Once it looked smooth enough, I spread the filling into the crust with a spatula and hoped for the best.
The crust was buttery and flaky, and the filling was rich with that smooth, silky texture French Silk Pie is known for. And so far, no ill effects from the raw eggs, which feels like a win.
Trying it once felt worth the risk for the experience, though I think I would want pasteurized eggs before tempting fate a second time.
It’s funny how a recipe like this can also reflect how cooking habits and food safety awareness have changed over time, while still hanging onto the comfort and nostalgia of a classic dessert.
At the end of the day, this whole story comes back to something pretty simple: pie.
It is the kind of dessert that probably showed up at family gatherings, holidays, and kitchen tables for years. The kind people went back for seconds, even when they claimed they were full.
Seeing a recipe like this engraved on a gravestone adds a completely different layer to that idea. It turns a dessert into part of someone’s legacy, which is kind of amazing.
And somewhere out there, Sharon’s pie recipe is still being made.
Ever wandered through a cemetery and wished you could hear the stories hidden beneath the headstones? That’s exactly the experience Hillside Cemetery, Middletown, New York: Beyond the Graves by JoEllen Hundeland offers.
I had planned to share a cemetery recipe post this week, but I didn’t get a chance to do any baking. So instead, I’m switching things up with a cemetery book review. This little book blends history, photography, and storytelling, taking you into one of New York’s most historic cemeteries and introducing the people who shaped the community.
Hillside Cemetery was established in 1861, right in the middle of the Civil War.1 Spread across more than 50 acres in the Hudson Valley, it was designed as a rural cemetery, a place where the living could visit, reflect, and honour the dead.1 Hundeland’s book captures the cemetery’s charm and history, highlighting its large obelisks, mausoleums, and winged angels that watch over the graves. The book explores the stories of some of Middletown’s early settlers, war heroes, and influential families, showing how their lives shaped the area.
“Established in 1861 during the Civil War, Hillside Cemetery in Middletown, New York, is bountiful in history, art, and unique beauty. Nestled on over 50 acres in the Hudson Valley, Hillside is both peaceful and charming. Originally, it was designed as a “rural” cemetery where the living could come to grieve and honor their dead in their eternal slumber. 160 years later, Hillside continues to be a place of remembrance and solitude, but it has evolved into so much more. Moving away from the traditional churchyards and family cemeteries, Hillside welcomed all. The grand obelisks, prominent mausoleums, and the towering, winged angels pointing to the heavens continue to honor Middletown’s former residents, many who were pillars of their community almost two centuries ago. Buried here are some of the area’s first settlers, war heroes, industry pioneers, influential families, and countless others who left vital contributions in their passing. Middletown has a colorful history, and Hillside reflects this. Under these headstones lie people who lived lives filled with heroism, determination, tragedy, and triumph, just like us. Within the gates of idyllic Hillside Cemetery, the dead have stories to tell, and their legacies live on beyond the grave.”
Hundeland is originally from Orange County, New York, and developed an interest in local history at an early age.2 With family and friends rooted in Middletown, she became especially drawn to Hillside Cemetery.2 She later combined this love for history with her passion for photography, which shines through in the book.2
This book is part of the Buried America series by America Through Time. Other authors in the series include Tui Snider and Jane Hopkins, whom some of you may recognize from other cemetery-related books I’ve reviewed on the blog. This series focuses on historic cemeteries across the United States, uncovering the stories of those laid to rest and their cultural and historical significance.
I really enjoyed Hundeland’s photography. Her style reminded me of my own approach to cemetery photography. The book is short and easy to read, which makes it approachable even for someone just browsing for inspiration or history. I did feel like the layout could be improved a little bit. A lot of the text appears first, with the photos coming afterward. The layout might flow better if the graves of the families mentioned appear directly after their stories. Despite this, the book still succeeds at showing what makes Hillside Cemetery unique and historically important.
If you enjoy learning about local history, exploring cemeteries, or simply appreciating beautiful photography, this book is worth a look. It’s a light read that offers both stories and visuals. This makes it a great addition to any cemetery lover’s collection or for anyone interested in historic cemeteries in the United States. After reading this one, I’m definitely looking forward to picking up more books from the Buried America series.
Next week, I’m planning to make up for the missed baking and share a new cemetery recipe, so stay tuned.
Thanks for reading!
I am always on the hunt for cemetery-related book recommendations. If you are an author and have a cemetery-related book you would like me to review, please reach out at hello@chantallarochelle.ca. I would love to hear from you!
If you have ever wandered through a cemetery with me, you already know I tend to slow right down. I look at everything. The lettering, the symbols, the little details that most people walk right past. It’s one part curiosity, and one part appreciation.
Gravestone rubbing is one of those things I have heard about for years but never actually tried, and after looking into it more, I don’t think I will. It always sounded kind of fun in theory. A little bit of history, a little bit of art. But once I started digging into it, I realized it might not be as harmless as it seems.
Gravestone rubbing is the process of placing paper over a headstone and gently rubbing it with charcoal, crayon, or graphite to capture the inscription and design underneath.1 The raised lettering and carvings transfer onto the paper, and the results can be surprisingly detailed.
The practice has been around for a long time and really took off in the 19th and 20th centuries as a way to record older or hard-to-read stones.2 It was especially popular with historians and genealogists trying to preserve inscriptions before they faded away.
One of the most well-known examples comes from Daniel and Jessie Lie Farber.3 Over several decades, they created thousands of gravestone rubbings between 1938 and 1969, documenting early American gravestone art in incredible detail. The Farber Gravestone Collection is still referenced today, and even without seeing the stones in person, you can get a real sense of how intricate and expressive these carvings can be. Some of the rubbings feel almost like artwork on their own, capturing not just names and dates, but patterns and symbolism that would otherwise be easy to miss.
Know Better, Do Better
This is where things get a little tricky.
Even though gravestone rubbing was once seen as helpful, it’s now widely frowned upon.
The biggest reason is pretty simple: it can cause damage.
Even a gentle rubbing puts pressure on the surface of a stone. Many older stones, especially ones made of slate, sandstone, or marble, are already fragile after years of weather exposure.4 When you add repeated rubbing into the mix, it can lead to flaking, cracking, or losing those fine details altogether.
A really good example of this is the Bean Puzzle Tombstone. It’s a unique and popular stone that has had a lot of hands on it over the years, including people doing rubbings.5 You can actually see how all that attention has added up over time.
Because of concerns like this, gravestone rubbing is now illegal in some U.S. states and restricted in others.6 In Canada, it’s not outright illegal, but many cemeteries have their own rules against it or require permission first.
Groups like Cemetery Conservators for United Standards have also spoken out about it.7 Their focus is on protecting these stones for the long term, which usually means limiting physical contact as much as possible.
Alternatives
The good news is you don’t have to miss out on those details.
One method I always find kind of clever is the mirror method. You use a mirror to reflect sunlight across the surface of the stone at an angle, which helps bring out the lettering and carvings.7 It’s simple, but it works. If you don’t have a mirror handy, even a flashlight can do the trick.
This is my go-to. You can capture everything you need without ever touching the stone. Changing your angle or adjusting the lighting can reveal details you might not have noticed at first glance.
The more I learn about cemetery practices, the more I realize how much things change over time. What once seemed like a good idea does not always hold up, especially when preservation is involved.
As much as I love the idea of gravestone rubbings, it’s not something I see myself trying.
For me, it always comes back to that same mindset I bring into every visit: respect the space and leave it as you found it. Do no harm.
There are so many ways to document and share these stories without causing damage. Sometimes all it takes is a little patience and a different way of looking at things.
Cemetery Photography by Chantal Larochelle 