Last week, I completed a two-part series on Chicago’s Rosehill Cemetery. On the same day, my husband and I also visited Graceland Cemetery. Having already visited two other large cemeteries on a hot and humid day, I was tempted to call it quits but we pushed on. I knew it would be a long time before I’d have the chance again.

Like most cemeteries, Graceland has a personality all its own and it shines. The landscape has a decided flow to it and the grounds are beautifully kept. There are no rough, weedy edges to Graceland. You can tell they work hard at keeping it neatly trimmed but not to the point of making it look unnatural.

Graceland was established in 1860 when Thomas Bryan, a successful Chicago lawyer, purchased the original 80 acres (located in the Buena Park neighborhood very close to Wrigley Field) and received a perpetual charter from Illinois in 1861. Thomas then chose landscape architect H.W.S. Cleveland to plan the layout.

During my research, I learned that Bryan was duped by the notorious serial killer, H.H. Holmes (who confessed to 27 murders but likely committed many more). Holmes’ story is featured in the best-selling book, The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. Bryan purchased stock in Holmes’ bogus A.B.C. Copier Company and ended up losing over $9,000 in the process. Fortunately, Bryan was only a financial victim of the bloodthirsty Holmes and lived

By the time he was hired, Horace William Shaler Cleveland had already established himself as a landscape architect. A native of Massachussets, he and his partner Robert Morris Copeland designed Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. He later went on to design Minneapolis’ park system.

Swedish landscaper Swain Nelson was also instrumental in the early planning stages of the project. William Le Baron Jenney (who is buried at Graceland) and later Ossian Simonds also had key roles. Simonds said, “The great diversity of tastes, opinions, superstitions and prejudices that must be consulted or controlled make cemetery landscape-gardening the most difficult branch of the art.”

If you were mayor or governor of Chicago, if you were not buried at Rosehill, Graceland was where you ended up. Graceland is the final resting place of department store founder Marshall Field, architects David Adler, Bruce Graham and Louis Sullivan (to name a few), and dancer Ruth Page. Railroad industrialist George Pullman and Jack Johnson, the first African-American heavyweight boxing champion, are also buried there.

One of the more obscure burials at Graceland is Augustus Dickens, brother of acclaimed author Charles Dickens. He died penniless in Chicago in 1866.

While Elvis is nowhere to be found at this Graceland, the place is certainly fit for a king. Or a knight. I’ve never seen one in a cemetery before.

Created by Illinois-born Lorado Taft, “The Crusader” honors the life of Chicago newspaper publisher Victor Lawson, who became manager of  the Chicago Daily News in 1876. At the foot of the monument are the words:

Above All Things Truth Beareth Away The Victory

Lorado Taft is credited with another sculpture at Graceland that instantly grabs your attention when you see it. It’s formal title is “Eternal Silence” but some refer to it as the “Statue of Death”.

My first thought was, “This is who Blue Oyster Cult was singing about.”

The bronze monument was crafted in honor of Dexter Graves (1789-1844), who was one of the earliest settlers in Chicago. According to the inscription on the back of the monument, he “brought the first colony to Chicago, consisting of 13 families, arriving here July 15, 1831 from Ashtabula, Ohio, on the schooner Telegraph.”

Although Graves died in 1844, his son Henry did not have the bronze commissioned until near the end of his own life, 1907. Taft completed the sculpture in 1909. The black granite provides contrast for the bronze statue, which is heavily oxidized because of its age. Some say Taft’s own ideas on death and silence influenced him heavily.

It’s not surprising that “Eternal Silence” gets photographed quite a lot. Pictures of it show on on Facebook pages devoted to cemeteries all the time. But now that I’ve seen it up close, I can totally see why.

Across the way from “The Crusader” is the Charles Hutchinson monument. It’s often thought to be for a different Charles Hutchinson (1854-1924), who is buried in another part of Graceland. That Hutchinson was president of the Corn Exchange National Bank, as well as founding member and first president of the Art Institute of Chicago. This Charles Hutchinson (1828-1893) was a businessman with Sweet, Demster & Co.

The artist who created this monument, Alfeo Faggi (1885-1966) was known for his stylized forms and anti-Classical approach to the figure. In other works, he sculpted outside the conventional norms. The central figure of Christ is shown surrounded by four figures and the Cross, visible in the right corner. Faggi also contributed works in this style to the St. Thomas the Apostle Church in Hyde Park.

One of the most stunning monuments at Graceland is for William Kimball, the piano manufacturer. A native of Maine, Kimball moved to Chicago in 1857 and started the Kimball Piano Company with only four pianos. He sold these at a profit and eventually started selling pianos manufactured in the east then shipped to his store.

The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 destroyed his business and cost him around $100,000. In 1877, Kimball decided to manufacture his own pianos to keep down the costs. He opened his own factory in 1881 and began churning out around 100 pianos and organs every week.

Across the rear are four Corinthian columns, with two more on the sides. Below, an angel kneels, watching over the two graves beneath the floor. The entire monument is of white marble, and was erected in 1907 from a design by the architectural firm of McKim, Mead & White.

Sadly, the face of the angel has worn away but the impression she leaves is still great.

I can’t help but wonder what her face looked like when she was installed in 1907. Photo by Chris Rylands.

Next week, Part II of my trip to Graceland will include the story of the father of the American skyscraper and feature an unusual Egyptian pyramid tomb with an angel guarding the door.

Last week, I shared Part I of my visit to Chicago’s historic Rosehill Cemetery. I featured some of the stunning stained glass in the mausoleums and told the story behind the elegant Horatio May Chapel.

After exploring the outside of the May Chapel and its unique receiving vault, we wandered over to one of the largest mausoleums in the cemetery. The Adam Schaaf Mausoleum is guarded by two distinctive lions. I knew I wanted to find out more about him and his family.

The Schaaf family mausoleum is a commanding presence. Adam, a piano dealer that eventually became a manufacturer, is interred inside along with his wife and at least one of his sons.

Adam Schaaf was born in 1849 in England and made his way to Chicago around 1870. Soon after, he married Karolina Gall, whose sister had married Adam’s distant cousin, John Schaaf. Adam worked for John and his brother (piano manufacturers) but only stayed a few years. Adam eventually began selling pianos out of his own home.

Adam’s success came slowly but it did come. Unlike other dealers, he capitalized on newspaper advertising to bring in business. He opened his own store but went even further in 1893 when he opened his own piano factory. When fire destroyed the showrooms in 1896, he rebuilt and his success only increased.

Adam’s sons, Fred, Harry and Walter, joined him in the business. They were instrumental in expanding its reach and in time, Schaaf pianos were being sold all over the country via agents.

Sadly, Adam’s last years were full of turmoil. With expansion and new factories came labor problems and a number of strikes (some violent) took place. Union demands were lengthy and often contentious. He died in July 1902, leaving the business to his sons to handle.

The stained glass inside was beautiful but I couldn’t get any good photos of it. But the lions were easy to photograph.

There are also lion details on the mausoleum itself.

Unfortunately, the 1930s brought an end to the Schaaf family’s piano business. But the Schaaf mausoleum is a beautiful reminder of the success they once knew. Karolina is buried inside along with their son, Walter.

Another striking mausoleum at Rosehill is located further into the cemetery. The Louis Stumer mausoleum is hard to miss due to the kneeling figure of a young woman that is part of the front door. I did not get a good overall photo of it, so I am borrowing one by Sid Penance on Find a Grave.

Louis M. Stumer’s mausoleum is definitely one of a kind. The young woman on the front was sculpted by Czech-American artist Mario Korbel. Photo by Sid Penance.

Stumer published three literary magazines, The Red Book, The Blue Book and The Green Book. He also owned (or co-owned) a store, Emporium World Millinery, in Chicago. The nature of his magazines seem to have been on the more sensational side than high prose/poetry.

The kneeling figure at the door of the mausoleum is hard to forget. She was sculpted by Czech-American artist Mario Joseph Korbel (1882-1954), a native of Osik, Bohemia (now part of the Czech Republic). His work can be found in a number of cemeteries and art galleries. Stumer died in 1919 so the Art Deco style used by Korbel is in keeping with the time.

As I’ve noted in previous posts, I am continually fascinated by feet in cemetery statuary. Korbel’s work is no exception. But her hands are equally detailed.

You can’t help but linger on her face as well, especially the long lashes against her cheek.

Across the way from the Stumer mausoleum is Rosehill’s huge mausoleum. It’s probably the largest one I’ve seen except for perhaps Westview’s. The building was locked up tight so we could only photograph the outside.

Here’s a side view.

As you can see, if you look at it from the side, the vast size of the place becomes apparent. The front is an impressive Greek Temple style.

The carving above the doorway is in keeping with the Greek theme.

Dedicated in 1914, the Rosehill Mausoleum was designed by architect Sidney Lovell, who is himself entombed within. The interior is almost entirely of marble, with even the floors composed of Italian Carrara marble.

According to Graveyards.com, the Rosehill Mausoleum has two levels, with the lower level partially underground. Some areas, particularly in the west wings, consist mainly of large rooms or corridors lined with crypts. In the eastern side, there are several small private rooms owned by individual families, most with heavy bronze gates. Some have spectacular stained glass windows by Louis Tiffany and other artists.

Notable people interred inside are Chicago Mayors Richard Ogilvie and Dwight Green, A. Montgomery Ward and Richard Warren Sears (both of catalog fame) and John G. Shedd (second president and chairman of Marshall Fields department store). Shedd donated $3 million in 1927 to help found Chicago’s Shedd Aquarium (which we visited during our stay).

Cemetery lore states that the ghost of Richard Sears haunts the mausoleum. Some have said they’ve seen a tall man in a top hat within Sears’ locked room, walking toward the crypt of A. Montgomery Ward. These two giants of the mail order business are interred very near one another so considering they were fierce rivals, I wonder if they have verbal sparring matches.

Fortunately, I was able to get a photo of the front hall through the door so you can get an idea of what it looks like. My apologies for the poor quality of it. The features and proportions are supposed to be modeled after the Parthenon at Athens, where similar columns lead to an enormous statue of the goddess Athena.

Not far from the Mausoleum is a small Jewish section marked with a stone.

I took a few photos of graves and came upon this one. It looked much older than it actually was. You can make out the words “Forever Over The Rainbow” and that got me intrigued. As I learned long ago, some of the smallest graves hold some of the most interesting stories.

An executive for Riverside Graphics in Chicago, Steve was married and had two daughters. After them, his great love was for the movie The Wizard of Oz and the books it was based upon. He was an enthusiastic collector of memorabilia and attended several conventions, where he made a warm and lasting impression on fellow collectors. A tribute page details his life here.

Time was running short so we started making our way back to the entrance when I caught sight of this distinctive monument.

Reclining on a divan is the figure of Mattie Swanson May, a young woman who died at the age of 20. Born to Swedish parents in Michigan in 1873, she married Harry May at the age 16. I don’t think Harry was related to Horatio May (of May Chapel fame).

Naturally, I had to get a picture of her feet!

But I think my favorite feature was her delicate hand touching a book.

The inscription on the base of the monument reads:

In sweet and loving remembrance of my wife Mattie M. May, Born Sept. 5, 1873 – Died July 13, 1893. She was an ideal woman and model wife.

From what little I could find, I learned that Harry May was a baker when he died in 1914 and it doesn’t appear that he remarried after Mattie died. His love for Mattie, despite the brevity of their union, may have been too deep to be replaced by another.

There are so many beautiful and unique monuments at Rosehill that I didn’t have a chance to see, such as the Frances Pearce statue of a young mother and her infant daughter. Or the statue of a little girl, Lulu Fellows. Those will have to wait for another day.

In the meantime, if you have find yourself in the Chicago area and are looking for a beautiful cemetery to get lost in, Rosehill is where you need to go. It sets a high standard for similar big city cemeteries to meet. You won’t regret it.

Next week, I hope you’ll join me for one last Chicago cemetery, Graceland, which is equally spectacular.

Just be aware that Elvis isn’t there. 🙂

When we were planing our visit to Chicago, I was hopeful I would visit at least three cemeteries: Rosehill, Graceland and Bohemian National. On the Sunday after we attended Chris’ cousin’s wedding, we headed north of the city and I got to see all of them! Not knowing my way around at all, I was glad Chris was driving.

We only had a few hours to cover a vast amount of territory, so for those who know the place well, I know I missed some of the more famous and eye-catching graves. Believe me, I wish I’d been able to see all of them.

At 325 acres, Rosehill Cemetery is one of oldest and largest in Chicago, chartered in 1859. The name “Rosehill” was actually a mistake. Because of a city clerk’s error, the area previously called “Roe’s Hill” (named for nearby farmer Hiram Roe) become “Rosehill” instead. Roe is said to have refused to sell his land to the city until it was promised that the cemetery be named in his honor.

My theory is that “Rosehill” just sounded better than “Roe’s Hill Cemetery”

Rosehill is the final resting place of several Chicago mayors (including Long John Wentworth), Civil War generals and soldiers, and Charles Gates Dawes, a U.S. Vice President. Icons such as Oscar Mayer, Montgomery Ward and Richard Sears are buried there, too.

Rosehill is located in the Lincoln Park neighborhood and an elevated Metra train line bridge runs right in front of the Ravenswood Avenue entrance. This impressive gate was designed by William Boyington, who also designed Chicago’s famous Water Tower and many other Chicago buildings. The sign on the gate says it follows the castellated Gothic architecture style.

I did notice that the folks at Rosehill want to make sure you don’t stay past closing time and end up locked in. I saw more than one sign making that clear.

A few days after our visit to Rosehill, I read about a guy dubbed “Creepy Clown” that was filmed a month before hopping the 7-foot gate and hanging out just inside the cemetery after sunset. So maybe they’re just trying to give people fair warning.

Once inside (and properly warned), we headed over to some beautiful crypts that surrounded a pond. Chris took some great pictures of the stained glass inside some of them, much better than my iPhone’s capabilities.

Not far from this area is the Horatio N. May Chapel, designed in 1899 by architect Joseph L. Silsbee. He’s noted for having mentored Frank Lloyd Wright and a number of other Prairie School-style architects. The building and the story behind it fascinated me for a number of reasons.

Who was Horatio N. May and how did he get a chapel built for him? Good question! Thanks to Jim Craig and his delightful blog, Under Every Stone, I was able to find that out so I can share the story.

Born in Canada, Horatio May came to Illinois and eventually became a grocer. But his star didn’t rise until he married Anna Lush Wilson in 1882, daughter of pioneer and newspaper editor John Lush Wilson. When May was appointed a Lincoln Park commissioner in 1886, Anna was very pleased. Even more so in 1891 when he was named Controller of Chicago by new mayor Hempstead Washburne (buried at nearby Graceland Cemetery).

Horatio went to the spa town of Bad Nauheim, Germany in July 1898 in hopes of shaking off the lingering effects of the flu. (known as “la grippe” in those days). Despite initial signs of improvement, he died in October and Anna arranged to have his body sent home to Chicago. Abraham Lincoln’s son, Robert Todd Lincoln, was named an honorary pallbearer.

The Mays were admirers of Joseph Silsbee and had hired him to design their Chicago home on N. Astor Street. So when Anna considered how to honor her husband’s life at Rosehill, she went beyond providing a grave stone. She wanted a chapel built in his name and she asked Silsbee to design it.

You can’t go inside the May Chapel unless you request special permission and we didn’t have time to ask. From what I learned later, you can request to use it for a funeral service. And some weddings have been performed there. We did spend ample time looking around outside as there was plenty to take in.

Probably the most peculiar but fascinating area is the back of the May Chapel where the underground receiving vault is located until the hill. You can climb up it and peer down into it through some very old domed windows. I don’t know what you would call them.

As is the case with most receiving tombs at cemeteries, the Rosehill one stored bodies when the ground was too frozen to dig graves. Another reason was when a family mausoleum being built for the deceased had not been finished yet. It was also used to house bodies when the Rosehill Community Mausoleum was being built.

However, I’ve never seen one built into the hill in the back of a chapel like this. The entry is still intact. I don’t know if it still being used. From the look of it, I would say no. At least not for storing bodies/caskets.

Contrary to some reports, Horatio and Anna are not interred with the chapel. But they are buried to the right side of the entryway, with a small slab to mark the graves.

Silsbee also designed a mausoleum for the family of grain merchant and close friend William Bartlett that is on the grounds of Rosehill. Alas, I didn’t get any pictures of it so I am borrowing one from the excellent blog Searching for Silsbee.

Next week, I’ll share about Rosehill’s grand mausoleum and more stories about some of the people buried at the cemetery. I hope you’ll come back for more.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

— Matthew 11:28

They say death is the great equalizer. But in the cemetery, that hasn’t been the case in centuries past.

More often than not, the people you lived among and worked with were buried around you. This included your religious and ethnic background. The rich were buried with the rich and the poor…? Well, their final home was often a nameless patch of earth.

As I visited a number of cemeteries in Chicago recently, I saw this play out frequently. The grand mausoleums of Graceland and Rose Hill Cemeteries bore the names of wealthy financiers and blue bloods with family wealth. Some of the grandest monuments I’ve ever seen are there.

But it was at Bohemian National Cemetery (BNC) in Chicago’s North Park neighborhood that I saw some of the most fascinating and beautiful gravestones I’ve ever seen. And most of the people buried there were not wealthy at all.

BNC was created as a result of a desire to break down the barriers of class and religion. In 1877, a Catholic priest denied burial in the Bohemian-Polish Catholic cemetery to those he disliked. The refusal to allow the burial of Marie Silhanek was the last straw.

Frantisek “Frank” Zdrubek was editor of the Bohemian daily Svornost and gave lectures under the auspices of the Bohemian Freethinker’s Society. At a mass meeting of the more than 20 Czech benevolent, fraternal, workingman’s, gymnastic, and freethinkers societies on January 7th, 1877, Zdrubek asked all of Chicago societies to come together and create a “free national cemetery, where any Czech could be buried without regard to religion.”

The organization raised funds and obtained a suitable location for the cemetery, which was in the township of Jefferson. The first burial was the child of Charles Brada on July 1, 1877. BNC officially opened on September 2, 1877. Although they started with 50 acres, it expanded over the years and now covers about 124 acres.

One reason I wanted to visit BNC was to see the brand new memorial to the victims of the 1915 Eastland Disaster. Chris’ great-grandmother Minnie, whom I wrote about last week, is not buried there but some of his other relatives are. At 143 people, BNC is the resting place of the largest number of Eastland victims. The cemetery’s newly opened Section 16 was almost sold out after that tragic event.

At the time, it took two men about four hours to dig one grave. Because so many graves had to be dug for Eastland victims, an additional 50 men were hired to work 12-hour days to get the job done.

A number of families and local organizations have purchased memorial bricks at the foot of the new Eastland monument at BNC.

Wandering through Section 16, I could see that the date of July 24, 1915 is inscribed on many of the markers. They run the gamut from individuals to entire families who died that fateful day.

One of the saddest stories is of Emilie Samek and her fiance, William Sherry. According to the Friends of BNC, Emilie’s father was too ill to work so Emilie got a job at Western Electric as a switchboard operator. With her salary, she was able to help support her parents and four siblings.

Theresa Danda also worked for Western Electric and was engaged to George Dobek, a casemaker. On the fateful day, they took Theresa’s little brother, Edward, with them to join the other employees boarding the boat. Theresa’s sister, Frances, was the only one of the group to survive.

There are many other stunning monuments at BNC that kept me wandering from section to section. Unlike many cemeteries, many of the markers at BNC have lovely porcelain discs with photos of the deceased on them. It’s amazing that they’ve remained in such good shape. Just seeing the faces gives you a better idea of what the person who lies beneath the stone was like.

BNC also boasts an impressive collection of monuments of World War I soldiers and sailors. I’ve seen these online but they are very difficult to find in the South. At BNC, these tributes to young men who died in the flower of youth are common.

The Kuchar brothers served in the U.S. military but Charles survived World War I. I believe younger brother John did not but I cannot trace his military records beyond his service in the 72nd Coast Artillery.

Another monument features young sailor Edward Bartizal. He died of influenza at the Great Lakes Naval Hospital in 1918. While he was not killed in action, I am sure his death was no less painful to his parents.

Pvt. Michael Kokoska was 27 when he died. He was a soldier in the the 127th Infantry, Company L. He was killed in action in France. His is one of the few detailed stories I was able to find in my research.

Michael was the son of two Bohemian immigrants, Joseph and Majdalena. After finishing school, he found work as a tailor and later as a truck driver. According to his Find a Grave memorial, he was temporarily buried in Morvillars Military Cemetery in France after his death and word was sent to his parents. The task of getting Michael’s remains sent home to America took time but he was eventually buried at BNC in 1921.

On a lighter note, there’s one section of BNC that is bound to put a smile on a few faces. In 2009, Cubs fan were given a unique opportunity to combine their passion for a beloved baseball team with a fitting final resting place.

Cubs Fans Forever: Beyond the Vines was created as a special place just for Chicago Cubs fans to place their cremated remains. About 288 “skyboxes” are available for urns in a unique interment wall. Loved ones can sit in four seats from Wrigley Field that face the wall or even play catch on a small lawn grown from Wrigley sod.

I could have stayed at Bohemian National Cemetery for the rest of the day and spent another several exploring the place. As is often the case when cemetery hopping, we just didn’t have enough time. BNC has a distinctly rich character that’s reflective of the people buried there. You want to linger over every grave.

Because whether rich or poor, we all need a place to rest.