As my “hopping” adventures continue, I’ve found that many people fall in love with cemeteries during their childhood. It’s always been a part of their lives. For me, it happened in just the last few years. Maybe as the speed at which I approach my own exit from this earth seems to accelerate, visiting these old cemeteries prepares me to meet those who have gone before.

Fellow cemetery enthusiast Jennifer Graham lives near me in Tucker, Ga. She’s had a thing for cemeteries since childhood. She channels that affection into her business, White Rabbit Photography. I asked Jennifer to write about why she loves cemeteries and to share some of her favorite photos.

I’ve always been interested in cemeteries. Their history, beauty, haunting feeling and poignancy. Whether or not you’ve met those buried there, you can appreciate that a life was lived and is remembered in a simple headstone or a grand mausoleum. When you walk by a person’s grave, for that simple moment, perhaps they are remembered whether you call out their name or not.

There’s so much history in a cemetery. Yes, there are dates but you can see styles of monuments, inscriptions reflecting the times they lived in, information about the deceased and their family. Bible verses, favorite poems, quotes, cherished moments and much more are remembered.

Growing up, my family visited numerous historical sites. My father was in the military and moving states, cities and countries was a regular occurrence. Both of my parents love history, especially my dad, who taught it at different institutions. So we toured and tromped around any and every local site around our area. We visited large and small military graveyards. My fascination with cemeteries began at a young age as a result of these explorations. I couldn’t even tell you at what age because it seems like forever for me.

I’m pretty intrigued by anything tapophile [cemetery related], burial practices, rites, statuary, time periods, locations, especially those surrounded by modern growth and really most anything. I dearly love the iron work too. Even it can tell you about the period it was produced in.

I have to say, though, that my favorite thing of all is the silence in a cemetery. The total absence of technology. The soothing quiet. Only the dead with their rest and the sound of nature. I like the warmth of the sun and the sound of the wind when it’s chilly. There’s no one living present so no need to make conversation if you are not in the mood to do so. You can conduct your explorations in peace and honor the dead at the same time.

To see more of Jennifer’s work, you can visit her website for White Rabbit Photography.

In 1947, a woman named Frances Gerety coined the phrase “A Diamond is Forever” for DeBeers. She may have been right but for the Victorians, hair was more eternal (and affordable) than glittering gems.

Mourning jewelry, or jewelry worn when one is mourning the loss of a loved one, has been around for centuries. But the Victorians truly embraced it when Queen Victoria took mourning to a new level in the 1800s. In October, I wrote about how the death of her beloved Prince Albert initiated a very detailed code of dress for ladies. The Queen was partial to mourning jewelry, especially if it was made out of jet (which is not a true mineral but actually a very old form of decayed wood).

The curious practice of making mourning jewelry from human hair became very popular. In other words, jewelry that literally contains hair from the deceased. This might seem incredibly bizarre (and to some, downright creepy), but the act of keeping someone’s hair as a memento of them was quite normal. The hair could be placed in a locket or even in an elaborate piece of jewelry.

It may seem like a strange way to remember someone but it’s actually quite practical since photography was not affordable for most people. Hair has chemical qualities that enable it to last for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. (Contrary to popular belief, hair does NOT continue to grow after someone has died.)

Of course, not everyone could afford jewel-encrusted lockets like the one pictured above. More often, it was simply a lock of hair stashed behind a painted miniature or inside of a ring. The jewelry’s owner knew it was there but didn’t necessarily flaunt it.

However, the Victorians took hair out of the darkness and into the light. Rings, pendants, pictures, wreaths, you name it and they did it.

Located in Independence, Mo. (not far from Kansas City), Leila Cohoon operates the only hair museum in the U.S. to truly feature this art form. She says that often, a family member would collect hair from several generations of relatives and weave the hair into a wreath. More often than not, the wreath included intricate hair-woven flowers and were shaped like a horseshoe, always pointed up to keep luck in the family. Her museum features hundreds of examples of hair art. You can find them up for bid on eBay from time to time as well.

The Northampton Historic Museum and Education Center in Massachusetts has a fantastic virtual exhibit of Victorian hair art. They do a better job at explaining the history behind it than I can.

For mourning accessories, jewelry items made from the hair of a deceased friend or loved one became hugely popular. Pamphlets featuring hairworking patterns assisted Victorians with creating their own hair jewelry, if they so desired. The jewelry designs are surprisingly complex and varied for consisting of such humble material as human hair. The pieces could incorporate jet, gold and diamonds for later stages of mourning or lockets for hair or photographs.

There was also a large market for mass-produced gold fittings that could be personalized with engraving or monograms, so the jewelry items could be commissioned as well. There was some distrust, however, of professional hairworkers; there was a widespread problem of hairworkers neglecting to use the deceased person’s hair. Instead, they would sell “custom-made” pieces actually made from purchased bulk hair.

Looking at some of these examples, I have to wonder how on earth this was done. And how long it must have taken. Then it occurred to me that during the Victorian era especially, most gently bred women did not work. And if their children were grown or away at school, they had ample time on their hands. If they truly were in early mourning, they weren’t allowed to go out except to attend church services.

According to artist Sandra Johnson (who uses hair to make jewelry and other items), there are four main techniques involved. They are:

Palette
Palette work is the most versatile of the techniques. It can make pictures and designs both large and small. The hair is used in a “cut and paste” manner to create designs. The third picture on this page is an example of palette work.

Sepia Painting
Sepia painting uses the hair as a painting medium and spread thinly on the background. The sixth picture on this page is an example of palette work.

Tablework
Tablework is created using a table and bobbins with weights. The hair is woven around a form in order to make the shape desired. The fifth picture on the page is an eye-catching example of this style.

Hair Flowers
Hair flowers are created using much longer hair than is needed for the palette or sepia technique. The hair is wound around a rod and secured with a wire making long lengths of looped hair. The hair is then shaped into petals or leaves. When several are wired together a flower can be formed and many very large wreaths were made using the hair of many people. Sometimes a church would make one of all their members, or a family would make one of all the members of the family, these could get very large and ornate. The fourth picture on this page is an example.

Then there are those works of art that aren’t jewelry and defy explanation.

There are actually dozens of Pinterest pages devoted to the art form. Many artists like Sandra have revived the tradition and are selling their pieces online.

In the end, while it does seem a tad freaky, the sentiment behind using hair for mourning jewelry makes sense. If you couldn’t have a photo of your loved one to put in your wallet or purse, wearing one of these pieces of jewelry could make you feel close to your deceased loved one in an intimate way. It would never fade or be destroyed by the ravages of time. As seen in the pictures featured here, many examples survive today.

So maybe the Victorians were onto something after all.

Did you know that Adventures in Cemetery Hopping has a Facebook page? During the week, I post photos and interesting articles related to cemeteries and other related issues. Please stop by! You can visit it by clicking here.

This week marked a milestone in my cemetery hopping career. I have now fulfilled 101 photo requests for Find a Grave! To me, that’s a pretty big deal. It also marks my first anniversary as a Find a Grave photo volunteer.

In truth, I’ve taken a lot more photographs of graves than 101. That number is actually 5,153. Most are photos of graves that were either undocumented or their memorial did not have a photo.

Today I am featuring some of my more memorable photos. Not all of them are for happy reasons. Some are not even photo requests. I’ve written about a few of them earlier and there are some I’ve never forgotten but tucked away in my mind. I hope you enjoy my trip down Memory Lane.

Adeline Bagley Buice

Adeline was not a photo request. I found her while looking for someone else at Sharon Baptist Church Cemetery in Cumming, Ga. When you read the inscription of her more recent marker (see above), you cannot help but stop in your tracks. I wrote about her earlier this year.

The story of how Adeline walked all the way from Chicago back home to Georgia with her little daughter in tow after the Civil War amazes and inspires me. I would love to know more about what her life was like after she returned and reunited with her probably utterly baffled husband (who thought she was dead).

Rebecca Lynne “Becky” Mowell Arnall

Becky wasn’t a photo request either. But like Adeline, she was one of a kind. Becky was someone I knew and loved, even though we had lost contact over the years. I met her when I was 9 or 10 when we joined our church. Her father, C.J. Mowell, was the local coroner and a funeral director. She and her siblings lived with C.J. and their mother, Faye, over the funeral home.

Becky had a spark about her that few people have. She could made you laugh and she was always into something. She also had one of the kindest hearts ever. As a child, she made me feel special and loved. Her early death hit many of us hard and it’s still difficult to grasp. A few weeks ago, I finally got to visit her grave at Fayetteville City Cemetery with a friend who also knew her.

God bless you, Becky. We miss you.

Lance Corporal Jerry Vanoid Davis

Jerry was one of my first photo requests and I wrote about him soon after. As I read about him (there wasn’t much), I felt a surprising amount of grief for a young man I had never met. When I discovered that his mother had lost him and his brother (who was not in the military), it felt all the more tragic. To lose one child is a tragedy beyond comprehension. To lose another child in combat is even more difficult to endure.

The Vietnam War (and it was a war, not a “conflict”) was a controversial war. Daily casualty counts were the norm on the evening news. But Jerry’s life was more than a statistic. He was someone’s son and brother. And he was loved.

The KKK Grave

I stumbled upon a family monument (three names were on it) during the summer while photographing a church cemetery. I’m not going to reveal the last name of the family or location of the grave out of respect to the family (who probably wishes it had never happened). Above the first name of F. Clark is a symbol that made my blood run cold.

It is the symbol of the Ku Klux Klan.

After getting over my initial shock, I did some research and realized that yes, it WAS what I thought it was. F. Clark worked at a funeral home (of all places) and his death was from drowning in the Chattahoochee River. He was only 21 when he died. I don’t know if his parents were Klan members as well. I hope not.

I do know that many in the South, and if you aren’t aware of it, all over the country, were active in the Ku Klux Klan. Some still are. Heck, they were still having meetings on top of Stone Mountain in the early 70s. But to see a blatant symbol of hate in a cemetery shocked me. How could anyone have stood quietly by and allowed this to happen? I don’t know. I only hope I never see that symbol again.

The Little House

I found the Little House (as I call it) a few months before I became a full fledged cemetery hopper but I wrote about it back in June. It was resting amid the tall grass of Old Greencastle Cemetery in Dayton, Ohio.

There’s no name on it so the identity of the deceased is unknown. It isn’t grand or ornate. But its simplicity caught my eye and it’s now one of my favorites. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before or since.

Carrie Turner

Carrie was a photo request in a round about way. I had taken a picture of her grave marker in Fellowship Baptist Church Cemetery in June as part of my work to photograph as many graves there as possible. Problem was, while I added a memorial for her, I forgot to add the photo of her grave.

A few months later, I saw a photo request for Carrie on Find a Grave and realized my error. I claimed the request and in a few minutes had posted the picture.

What followed as a result I wrote about in August. By some twist of fate or a push from God (I think it was the latter), I took a photo of someone’s long-lost grandmother’s grave. Janet Turner and her family had been looking for her over many years. They still aren’t sure what happened to her grandfather after Carrie died and he was forced to place their children in Georgia Baptist Children’s Home. So a lot of mystery still remains. I hope to have an update on Carrie some day.

This first year of cemetery hopping has been a journey that took many unexpected twists and turns. I’ve learned a lot and I’ve “met” people who led some amazing lives. Some of the cemeteries I’ve explored will stay in my memory forever. Overall, the efforts I’ve put into it (and this blog) have been well worth it.

What will the next year bring?

Grave robbing is nothing new. Movies have been made about it and countless scary stories told around campfires include many a corpse. At one time, in the late 1700s into the 1800s, the theft of dead bodies from cemeteries was very real and quite profitable. Medical school attendance was going through the roof and they needed cadavers for students to practice on.

Celebrity grave robbing is different. It usually involves a ransom demanded in exchange for the return of the stolen corpse. Still, those that undertake it probably already have a screw lose to begin with. Here are the stories of three infamous grave robberies: one that actually happened, one that almost did and one that is questionable to this day.

Charlie Chaplin

Born in April 1889 in London, England, Charlie Chaplin had parents in the theatrical profession. His career as a vaudeville comedian brought him to the United States in 1910. His film career took off in 1914 when he joined Keystone Studios. He developed his trademark “Little Tramp” persona over those early years. With D.W. Griffith, Mary Pickford, and Douglas Fairbanks, he founded United Artists (which is still around today) in 1919. His eight films with UA made him a film icon, with titles like The Kid, City Lights and Modern Times.

Chaplin was living in Switzerland with his fourth wife, Oona, when he died in December 1977. He was buried in Corsier Cemetery (near Lake Geneva) in a 300-lb. oak coffin. In March 1978, it was dug up and removed from the cemetery. The two thieves contacted Oona and demanded an eye-opening ransom of 40,000 pounds (the American equivalent is about $64,500) for the return of his coffin. Oona refused to pay it, saying, “Charlie would have thought it rather ridiculous.”

Local police set up phony pay-off meetings that proved a failure when the robbers didn’t show up. At the same time, the police and the suspects were both persistent, so the two parties continued to communicate in hopes of resolving the standoff. In May, the police tapped the Chaplins’ phone. They also assigned officers to watch as many as 200 phone booths throughout the area.

When the thieves called this time, the call was traced to two auto mechanics, Roman Wardas of Poland, and Gantscho Ganev, of Bulgaria. The two were arrested. Upon interrogation, they led police to Chaplin’s body, which they had buried in a nearby cornfield. The two were political refugees who were inspired by a similar scheme they read about in an Italian newspaper. Wardas, the brains of the two, got four and a half years of hard labor while Ganev received an 18-month suspended sentence.

The Chaplins reburied Charlie in the Corsier Cemetery. But this time, they sealed his coffin in thick concrete so any future thieves would be deterred from repeating the crime. Fortunately, his grave has remained undisturbed ever since.

Abraham Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln’s body was never stolen but there was definitely a plot afoot to do so. Lincoln’s demise was unique in many ways. Not only was he assassinated, he was the first U.S. president to be embalmed to preserve his body. The train carrying his body to his hometown of Springfield, Ill., made several stops along the way, in which Lincoln’s body lay in state. So the use of embalming was paramount to keeping Lincoln, uhm, camera ready.

Lincoln was buried in Oak Ridge Cemetery, a rural cemetery located about two miles outside of Springfield, Ill. No night watchman patrolled the area around the president’s tomb. The only thing standing between Lincoln’s body and any would-be grave robbers was a single padlock on the tomb’s chamber door.

He lay there undisturbed until November 7, 1876. That’s when a group of four counterfeiters broke into the cemetery with the intention of stealing Abraham Lincoln’s body from his sarcophagus. They planned to take the body, hide it in the sand dunes of Northern Indiana, hold it for $200,000 ransom, and demand the release of one of their gang from prison.

Their plans fell apart when a paid police informant who had infiltrated the crew ratted on them. When the men broke into the cemetery that night, police and Secret Service agents (who were only charged with investigating counterfeiters at the time, not guarding the body of the President) were waiting for them. Due to an errant gunshot going off before the trap was sprung, the crooks got away, but were arrested a few days later.

After the attempted robbery, Lincoln’s remains were reburied in the same mausoleum at Oak Ridge. This time they were hidden in a shallow grave in the basement of the tomb. This fact was known only by a handful of people for decades. Lincoln remained there until 1901, when eldest son Robert Todd Lincoln had his father’s remains placed inside a steel cage, lowered 10 feet into the ground, and covered in concrete for safe keeping. It’s been there ever since.

Elvis Presley

This last grave robbery never really happened. In August 1977, two weeks after Elvis’ death (which some still dispute), FBI informant Ronnie Adkins told police he had infiltrated a group that planned to steal Elvis Presley’s 900-pound, steel-lined, copper-plated coffin and hold his remains for ransom.

While police staked out the grave at Forest Hills Cemetery in Memphis, they caught three men (Raymond Green, Eugene Nelson, and Ronnie Adkins) snooping around Presley’s mausoleum. How the three were going to get through the two concrete slabs and a solid sheet of marble that covered the coffin is unknown. No tools or explosives were ever found. That doesn’t even take into account how they planned to remove the coffin without a forklift. Until further evidence about the plot could be uncovered, police charged the men with criminal trespassing and kept them in jail.

The story Adkins gave police turned out to be full of holes. He said the men were going to be paid $40,000 each by an unknown criminal mastermind who planned to ransom the body for $10 million. But he couldn’t tell police how the men intended to get their reward or how to contact this anonymous kingpin once the deed had been done. With no actual crime being committed (other than the men being in the cemetery after dark), and the evidence against the men being so weak, all charges were eventually dropped.

As a result of the “almost attempted” grave robbery, the Presley estate asked to move the bodies of Elvis and his mother to Graceland where they could be monitored 24 hours a day by staff security and closed-circuit TV cameras. Their request was granted.

Former FBI agent Ivian C. Smith said that the “almost” grave robbery was concocted by Elvis’ estate as a way to get the Presleys buried on the property because before the “near theft”, the Memphis Shelby County Board of Adjustment had refused to grant them a variance to bury Elvis at Graceland. Smith, former head of the FBI’s Arkansas office, says Adkins told him years later that former Shelby County sheriff’s deputy Billy Talley set up the hoax.

But as we all know, Elvis isn’t really underground. He’s at Walmart at 2 a.m. buying peanut butter and bananas, right?