August 29th: A Tale of Two Cemeteries

In my recently acquired contract job as a photographer of Cincinnati neighborhoods, I have had the opportunity to commune a bit with soldiers past in two small graveyards with headstones that, in some cases, date back to the Revolutionary War. The two are examples of honorable ideas, one maintaining its honor, the other gone bad.

The Clough Baptist Cemetery in Anderson Township sits at the side of a curvy, almost country road. Encircled by a fence, one edge of the grounds is tree lined, while in the other surrounding areas sit homes that are at an ample, respectful distance. While some of the headstones are like people, slightly bent with age, the grounds themselves are well tended. A passerby can lift the heavy black bolt on the white wooden gate and step into a space that feels sacred and awe inspiring.

In sharp contrast to the sylvan setting of the Clough Baptist Cemetery is the LaBoyteaux-Cary Cemetery at the crossing of Galbraith and Hamilton Avenues in North College Hill. This small, pitiful plot of land is bordered by an office building that butts up right against it, giving it a cramped feeling, as if the cemetery was an afterthought, instead of the other way around. The small iron gate balked at opening as if to say “You really don’t want to come in here.” Just outside the gate is a metal plaque giving a brief history of the cemetery that says the plaque was contributed by the North College Hill Education Association. While once part of a much larger cemetery, urbanization has shrunk it to the size of a postage stamp, relatively.

A tale of two cemeteries, both with stones from the same era, one continuing to honor with care and concern, another allowing withered stone to lie flat upon the ground, covered with dried grass, broken monuments to the dead; unkept promises to those who served .

Perhaps it is time to question North College Hill’s stewardship of their oldest landmark.

Perhaps it is time to give those resting there a proper place, in a quiet, honorable setting.

An obelisk can be raised in memory of all those buried there, without graves being ignored, gravestones broken, and general disrepair being the rule instead of the exception.

Then those once buried there can be placed in honorable, peaceful setting, perhaps through an unprecedented piece of community cooperation with their counterparts in Anderson.