Cem_1: Rivers of Faith Church, FayNC
Photographed: Sep22.2oo8
Oldest Stone Date: 1817 Justin Jones.
On my way to getting lost, and taking note of graveyards along the way, I spied a stone in a field before I crossed the bridge at Grove st. Making a quick U-Turn I doubled back to try to spot it again. This time when I saw it I pulled into the parking lot of Rivers of Life Church (marked 209.) (1a)
I crossed the street, walked til I found a way over the ditch seperating the apparent graveyard from the road, and trudged in. (1b) The first thing I noticed was the Yard Edge. As soon as the Yard started all the grass and weeds were dead! It made a perfect edge around the entire yard.
There weren't many stones left standing, and what were, were being swallowed by the earth. I decided I would photograph every stone, asking the dead that lay there if I may do this for them: so they may not be completely forgotten. I spoke to them as I went through, careful not to step in the sunken recesses where either coffins had collapsed in or been removed (3a).
Many stones were broken, chipped, scratched up, and lying on their faces. I decided not to try to turn any over to get the text, as time and wet had probably eroded the names away anyway. There were several "Jones" children stones. "Genney" and "Justin" were a set I was particularly fond of. They did seem the perfect Halloween Stones, being of a stereotypical shape, and one being crooked. I leaned in to take a close picture of the "Genney" stone and about jumped backwards onto my butt: There was a huge spider on the stone! (4d) It took me a second to realize it was a Garden Spider, the same breed I'd seen on the back deck a week before. Talk about your perfect Halloween Shot!
As I left the Graveyard, thanking the dead and the earth for tolerating me, I took note (and photo) of the trees beyond: so green when the Yard was so dead. I also noted a cinderblock at the Yard's edge (7d). The Yard was obviously known to adolescents and delinquents, as told by old pumpkins and broken liquer bottles. By the cinderblock lay a ritualized doll head.
Leaving the Yard, I wrote a letter to the Church and left it in their mailbox. I claimed to be an amatuer photographer interested in any information on the little graveyard, and left all my contact information.
I never received word back.
- From WeyrCat's Treo...
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