Now that it’s November, it’s time to get back to our more regularly scheduled programming!
For this month’s cemetery book review, I want to share Last Rites, a book that had been on my TBR list for a while. It ended up being a really interesting read.
It was written by Todd Harra, a licensed funeral director and embalmer, and published in 2022. The book focuses on the history of American funeral and mourning practices, explaining how familiar customs developed and changed over time.
“Why do we embalm the deceased? Why are funerals so expensive? Is there a reason coffins are shaped the way they are? When―and why―did we start viewing the deceased? Ceremonies for honouring the departed are crucial parts of our lives, but few people know where our traditional practices come from―and what they reveal about our history, culture, and beliefs about death. In Last Rites, author Todd Harra takes you on a fascinating exploration of American funeral practices―examining where they came from, what they mean, and how they are still evolving.
The rich story of the American funeral is one of constant evolution. Whether you’re planning a funeral service or are simply intrigued by the meaning behind American burial practices, Last Rites is an informative and compelling exploration of the history―and future―of the ceremonies we use to say farewell to those who have departed this world.”
I liked how the book was organized. It moves through different time periods in a clear way, showing how practices changed while some ideas were carried forward. It also explores the why behind many funeral traditions, that so often go unquestioned.
It’s well researched, but still easy to read. It doesn’t feel heavy, which makes it a great read even if you are just picking it up out of curiosity. At the same time, it adds helpful context to the customs it covers.
My copy is a hardcover, an officially withdrawn library copy that made its way to me from Wilmette, Illinois. I always think that’s kind of cool. Sometimes books have their own little adventures before ending up on my shelf.
If you’re curious about where funeral traditions come from, this is a solid read. It gives a better understanding of things you’ve likely seen, but may not have thought much about.
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!
Across Ontario, there are plenty of stories about strange sightings, restless spirits, and places with a history that shouldn’t be forgotten.
One person who has helped bring many of these stories to light, was author and historian Terence Patrick O’Boyle, better known as Terry Boyle.
His books introduced readers to haunted places across Ontario and inspired many of us, including myself, to visit these places and explore the stories for ourselves.
The Man Behind Haunted Ontario
Born in 1953, Terry Boyle spent much of his life exploring Ontario’s history, folklore, and ghost stories. He worked as an author, historian, journalist, and teacher, and also hosted a couple of seasons of Creepy Canada, a TV show about reported paranormal activity across the country.¹, ²
Boyle’s interest in folklore goes back to his childhood. He grew up hearing stories about little people and leprechauns, which helped keep his mind open to the unexplained.² When he started writing in the 1970s, people began sharing their own strange experiences with him.2 Those stories sparked his curiosity and encouraged him to dig deeper.²
He didn’t just sit back and collect other people’s stories, though. Boyle visited the places he wrote about, talked to owners and staff, researched their histories, and searched for old photographs to help bring their stories to life.² He wrote about all kinds of subjects, from Ontario’s history and folklore to its darker past, but it’s his Haunted Ontario series that has had the biggest impact on my own adventures.
I even have a signed copy of one of his books, that I found second-hand. It’s was a fun little find, since he has been such an inspiration.
I’ve come to rely on Boyle’s books when planning cemetery road trips and researching my Stone Stories. They’re often where I start when looking for somewhere new to visit or a story worth digging into. I’ve also discovered places through his books, that I might never have come across otherwise.
With all the exploring he’s done, you know he has some great stories of his own too. During one investigation, he witnessed an ashtray lift off a kitchen counter, float past his face, and land back on the counter.³ He said he probably wouldn’t have believed it, if he hadn’t seen it for himself.³
Whether you’re a skeptic or not, I think there’s something fascinating about the stories that become attached to places. And while reading about them is interesting, there’s nothing quite like visiting one for yourself.
And Boyle’s books have given me plenty of reasons to get out there and explore.
Inn at the Falls
Located in Bracebridge, Ontario, this historic property has its own share of ghost stories. It’s also one of the locations featured in Boyle’s Haunted Ontario 2: Ghostly Inns, Hotels, and Other Eerie Places.
Some of the stories involve Room 105, which caught our attention when my fiancé and I were planning a visit to Bracebridge.⁴ After reading about the Inn, we decided to book a stay in that very room when we visited in 2021.
We didn’t experience anything supernatural, but we had a great time visiting the Inn, chatting with the staff, and exploring the town. The trip even inspired us to start an annual tradition of visiting haunted locations every October.
Ghost Road, near Port Perry, is another location featured in Boyle’s Haunted Ontario.
Local legend tells of a motorcyclist who died in an accident involving a wire fence. According to the story, people have reported seeing a headlight approaching along the road, followed by a red taillight disappearing in the distance.2
It’s a really cool feeling to stand in a place that you’ve read about, especially when there are ghost stories connected to it.
Terry Boyle passed away suddenly on July 11, 2016, at the age of 63.1 His passing was a loss for his family and friends, his many readers, and the wider communities of history, folklore, and paranormal enthusiasts. Following a celebration of his life in Parry Sound, he was laid to rest at Carling Cemetery.1
Carling Cemetery is a lawn park cemetery, so the grave markers lie flat against the ground. I had a bit of trouble finding Terry’s marker at first, but after wandering around for a while, I finally spotted it.
It’s a simple pink granite stone with his name, dates, and the words “a kind, gentle man of vision.” His wife, Allanah Marie O’Boyle, is also named on the marker, although no dates have been added beneath her name.
I brought along a little stuffed ghost to photograph with his marker. I don’t usually bring props or mementos to cemeteries, but it seemed fitting for someone who spent so much time exploring ghost stories. It was my own small way of connecting his work to mine.
I never had the chance to meet Terry in person, but I can’t help wondering what we might have talked about. His books have inspired so many of my cemetery road trips and Stone Stories, and I’ve really enjoyed discovering the places and stories through his work.
Before leaving, I took a moment at his grave to pay my respects and thank him for all the inspiration, and for sharing so many stories with us.
Terry Boyle’s books continue to introduce readers to Ontario’s unusual history and supernatural stories. His work has certainly inspired me to get out and explore, and it’s a reminder that there are so many fascinating stories waiting to be found, so close to home. Sometimes they’re hiding in a haunted inn, along a quiet country road, or a cemetery with a story of its own.
Thank you, Terry, for inspiring me to explore new places, and share the stories I discover along the way.
It’s been a little while since my last blog post. Life has been keeping me busy lately, and the blog has had to wait its turn.
But with October here, I’m excited to get back to sharing some cemetery stories!
October seems like a good time to explore some of the spookier side of cemetery photography. So, over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing a few stories with a little mystery mixed in.
This week, I want to share my experience visiting Mizpah Pioneer Cemetery in Muskoka.
I visited Mizpah earlier this year. I went there to explore the cemetery, photograph the gravestones, and see what I could learn about the people buried there. I also had a rather strange experience when it was time to leave.
A Cemetery Trail Through the Woods
Mizpah Pioneer Cemetery is a little different from the cemeteries I usually visit. Instead of rows of graves spread across an open field, this cemetery follows a trail through the woods. A simple wooden arch marks the entrance, along with a large, hand-painted sign that tells some of the cemetery’s history.
I have a soft spot for handmade signs. There’s just something about them that makes a place feel a little more personal. This one gives visitors a glimpse into the people and community that once existed here.
During our visit, there were several fallen trees along the path, so we had to climb over them to reach some of the gravestones on the other side. We did our best to visit every grave we could find as we made our way along the trail.
It’s definitely not your typical cemetery layout, and I found that made exploring it even more interesting.
The pioneer community of Mizpah was established in 1885 and was originally known as Nelson’s Appointment. The name changed to Mizpah after a church was built in the area. The cemetery sign explains that the name comes from a passage in Genesis: “The Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent from one another.”1 By 1910, most of the families who had settled there had moved away.2
According to the sign at the cemetery entrance, the pioneers who settled here carved their homes and lands from the surrounding forest. The families remembered at the cemetery include the Harts, McGinases, Nelsons, and Halls.1
The cemetery was used for burials between 1884 and 1905. Only a small number of memorials remain today, and there may be other graves in the surrounding forest whose markers have disappeared over time.2
The community church once stood beside the cemetery. According to the entrance sign, it was later rebuilt as a school and eventually became a home nearby.1
Among the surviving gravestones are members of the Hart family. Herman Hart died in 1891 at the age of 83, while Thomas Alvin Hart died in 1886, at just three years old.3
Thomas Alvin Hart shares a memorial with other members of his family, and the stone includes the epitaph “We loved them in life / Let us not forget them in death.”3
The cemetery also has the grave of an unidentified Indigenous person. The sign says they were buried with a blanket for a shroud.1 The grave is marked by a wooden cross that reads, “An Indian 1884.”
The cross is about as tall as I am and looks fairly new, considering the year engraved on it. There were around eight stones perched on top of it, along with a couple of pouches of tobacco.
It’s a distinctive grave, and I found myself wondering about the person buried there. Who were they? How did they come to be buried here? Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any information about them.
After my visit, I tried looking for ghost stories or reports of hauntings connected to the cemetery, but I couldn’t find much. That surprised me a little, considering the strange experience we had when it was time to leave.
After we had walked the entire trail, climbed over fallen trees, and done our best to visit every gravestone, we made our way back to the car.
Nothing unusual had happened while we were in the cemetery. It had been a quiet visit, and we were ready to head home.
Then my car decided it had other plans.
I recently bought a new vehicle, one with a lot of electronic features, including a push-button start. I started the car and put it in reverse to leave. Suddenly all the emergency lights came on and the car stopped responding. The engine was running, but the car wouldn’t move.
I tried putting it in drive, then reverse again, but nothing happened. The parking brake wasn’t on, and I had no idea what was wrong. Since the cemetery is pretty remote, I had a brief moment of panic wondering how we were going to get home if I couldn’t get the car moving.
I took a breath, turned the car off, and waited a few seconds before starting it again.
Everything was completely normal. The emergency lights didn’t come back on and the car responded like it should. We were able to leave without any problems.
Whatever caused it, it’s something I’ve never experienced before or since.
Was it just a glitch with my new car? Maybe. It definitely gave us something to talk about on the drive home.
My mother and I joked that maybe the residents of Mizpah weren’t quite ready for us to leave.
Thanks for reading!
References:
Mizpah Pioneer Cemetery entrance sign | Photographed during visit
One of my favourite things about photographing cemeteries is all the little details that can easily be missed, like ceramic portraits.
These small photographs give us a glimpse of the people whose names are carved into the stone. Some are still in pretty good shape, while others have faded, cracked, or weathered over the years. A few have deteriorated so much that it’s almost impossible to make out a face.
Today, I’m sharing a few ceramic portraits I’ve come across during my cemetery travels.
Ceramic Portraits
Ceramic portraits, sometimes called porcelain portraits or photo ceramics, are photographs that have been permanently transferred onto materials such as porcelain, glass, enamel, or metal.¹
The technique dates back to the 1850s.¹ French photographer Lafon de Camarsac began experimenting with the process in the early 1850s.¹ By 1855, he was producing photographic images on enamel and porcelain.²
Photo ceramics became popular during the second half of the 19th century.¹ Photographic images were transferred onto all sorts of things, from jewellery and decorative objects to plates and other household items.¹
The technique also found its way into cemeteries.
By the late 19th century, ceramic portraits were being used on gravestones in Europe.³ They gave families a way to preserve the likeness of their loved ones alongside their names and dates.³
Some of the portraits are still quite recognizable, even though the ceramic itself has weathered over time.
Others have faded considerably. Time and exposure to the elements can take their toll, leaving behind only a faint image.
And sometimes, there isn’t much left to see at all.
Sometimes I come across portraits that are so damaged that it’s difficult to make out the person’s face. Even so, I think they’re worth photographing. The damage is part of their story too.
It’s rare here in Northern Ontario, but sometimes I come across a photo of someone who looks like they’re sleeping, or possibly deceased.
Post-mortem photography became common after the introduction of the daguerreotype in 1839.⁴ It continued to be practiced into the early 20th century.⁴ Children were often the subjects because they might never have had a photograph taken while they were alive.⁴
I’ll save the deeper history of post-mortem photography for another post, because there is a lot more to explore there.
What I find most fascinating about these little portraits is how much they can add to a gravestone.
The name and dates tell us when someone lived. The photograph gives us a glimpse of what they looked like. Even when the image has almost completely faded, you can still see the effort that was made to preserve that person’s likeness.
After more than a century outdoors, some of these portraits may be barely recognizable, but they’re still there.
Have you ever heard of Castle Village and the Enchanted Kingdom?
I hadn’t, until I spotted it while on a cemetery road trip a couple of years ago. As we drove along, a storybook castle suddenly appeared on the side of the road. It looked abandoned, and for a moment I wondered if I was seeing things.
What was a castle doing in the middle of rural Ontario? More importantly, why had it been left behind?
I made a note to research it later, and when I planned a recent day trip back to the area, I knew I had to make a couple of extra stops to finally check it out.
The castle was only part of the story. Behind it was the remarkable life of the man who built an entire fantasy world for families to enjoy, and whose final resting place is only a short drive away.
This is the story of Paul Des Roches and the dream he built.
Paul Vincent Des Roches was born on July 3, 1936, and was a talented woodworker, craftsman, and businessman who spent much of his life creating things with his hands.
In 1972, Paul built a castle near Midland, Ontario, with the goal of creating a unique place to sell his handmade crafts and woodworking.¹
Paul created items like birdhouses, candlesticks, and other wooden crafts, and his business became so successful that he was selling his creations almost as quickly as he could make them.1
His gift shop eventually grew to offer nearly 10,000 items, including souvenir spoons and other collectibles.1
What began as a small gift shop quickly became something much bigger. Paul continued expanding the property, eventually working with his daughter to transform the original seven-acre site into a 45-acre attraction filled with museum-like displays, and fantasy-themed areas for visitors to explore.1
Castle Village And Enchanted Kingdom Park
Castle Village and Enchanted Kingdom was unlike anything else in the area. The castle featured towers, a water-spewing dragon, and a moat guarded by creatures from the underworld.1
Inside the castle, visitors could explore a showroom that originally displayed early Canadian and American furniture before becoming the Museum of Medieval Arms, Armour and Heraldry.1 The museum featured medieval weapons, life-sized suits of armour, and displays about heraldry, the study of coats of arms and their symbols.1
In 1982, Paul added Dracula’s Dungeons, a horror-themed museum hidden beneath the castle.1 Visitors entered by descending a spiral staircase covered in cobwebs before discovering prison cells featuring famous horror characters.1
As the attraction continued to grow, Paul and his daughter created the Enchanted Kingdom Park, a fantasy-themed area built around an educational nature trail.1
Visitors could explore fairy tale cottages inspired by familiar stories, like Snow White’s wishing well, and Hansel and Gretel’s candy house.1 The park also featured Merlin the Magician’s Tower, a grist mill, a giant fountain, and an 80-foot suspension bridge crossing a pond.1
Over the years, Castle Village became a popular tourist attraction, welcoming thousands of visitors and operating as a bilingual destination.1 In 2005, the property received the Provincial Tourism Award from RDEE, a francophone economic development organization.1
In 2008, Paul’s family decided it was time to pursue other interests and placed the property up for sale.1 By then, Paul was 74 years old and dealing with health issues.1
The property remained on the market for several years before being purchased in 2016 by businessman Deo Moreno, who introduced new attractions such as escape rooms, role-playing games, themed weddings, archery, and human foosball.1
After closing during the COVID-19 pandemic, Castle Village never reopened. It is now listed as permanently closed.1
When I visited, it felt like stepping into a forgotten storybook. Nature has slowly begun reclaiming parts of the property, but many of the buildings and structures still remain. It was easy to imagine families walking across the bridges, exploring the fantasy cottages, and discovering something new around every corner.
Even in its current state, Castle Village still reflects Paul’s creativity and determination.
While I was researching Castle Village, I came across the work of photographer Mike Lalonde of Talking Walls Photography, who had the opportunity to photograph inside the property, and document what remains of this once-popular attraction. Mike was kind enough to give me permission to share some of his photographs..
During my visit, I didn’t venture inside, but toured the grounds from outside the fence. I was curious to see what the castle looked like inside. Mike’s photos offer a tiny glimpse of the spaces and artifacts that now sit in silence, covered in dust.
After seeing Castle Village and learning about the man who built it, I wanted to find Paul Des Roches’ grave. That brought me to Sainte-Croix Roman Catholic Cemetery in Tiny Township.
Paul passed away on December 8, 2022, at the age of 86, following a long battle with Parkinson’s Disease.2
The cemetery was quiet when I arrived, much like Castle Village had been earlier in the day. As I searched through the cemetery, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for. Then a ceramic portrait of the castle caught my eye.
I knew immediately that I had found Paul.
His gravestone features a ceramic portrait of Paul and his wife, along with a second portrait of his Enchanted Kingdom. It’s such a fitting detail for someone whose life was so closely tied to the place he had created.
I took a moment to pay my respects and thank Paul for bringing a little bit of whimsy and creativity into the world.
This story highlights one of my favourite things about visiting cemeteries. You never know where a little curiosity will take you or what you might uncover.
Paul had a dream and actually built it. Castle Village might be quiet now, but his creativity and imagination are still there. It’s a bit inspiring.
I think the world could use more people who are willing to dream up something a little different and make it happen. A little more whimsy wouldn’t hurt either.
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.
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.
April always makes me think of the Titanic. It’s hard not to, with the anniversary of that tragic sinking approaching. This year, I spent some time reading Titanic Victims in Halifax Graveyards, a book my mom found while thrifting. She’s always been fascinated by Titanic history, and after finishing it, she knew I would love it too, so she passed it along.
Written by Blair Beed and first published in 2001, this book is a deep dive into the stories of Titanic victims who ended up in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Beed, a Halifax resident, brings his experience as a tour guide and tourism professional to the page, giving the book both historical context and local insight.
“For eighty-five years dozens of victims of one of the most famous ships in history rested quietly in Halifax, Nova Scotia, until the 1997 film Titanic created a renewed interest in the burial sites. Visitors to Halifax have many questions about the city’s connection to the infamous ship. Of the 328 bodies found, why were some buried at sea? Why were 59 bodies sent elsewhere for burial and the rest buried in Halifax? Titanic Victims in Halifax Graveyards answers those questions while telling the intriguing and little-known story of the 150 passengers and crew who were buried in the port city of Halifax. Using official reports and newspaper articles, author Blair Beed provides an outline of life on board the Titanic, describes society as it was in 1912, and highlights the care for the dead taken by the crews of the recovery ships and those who met them on arrival in Halifax. This revised edition, with two new chapters and an updated design, is an important addition to any Titanic library.”
I love that my copy still had the receipt tucked inside. It was purchased at the Maritime Museum in Halifax, which houses many Titanic artifacts. It may seem odd, but I’ve kept the receipt with the book. It feels like a small, tangible connection to the city and the history it preserves.
The book is meticulously researched, walking readers through the victims’ stories with care and detail. It would make an excellent companion if you’re planning to visit the Halifax cemeteries, which I hope to do someday. I’d love to take my mom along too, since she shares my fascination with this history.
The details blew me away! From the recovery mission itself, to how every piece of clothing and even tattoos were documented to help identify the victims. I also appreciated how Beed organizes the book: part historical narrative, part cemetery guide, making it easy to follow the locations and stories of each burial site.
I absolutely loved this book. I’d recommend it to anyone interested in Titanic history, Halifax’s maritime past, or even just those with a morbid curiosity. It’s incredible to realize how much there is still to learn about this tragic event, even 114 years later.
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!
