Sleepy Hollow Cemetery

Cemeteries are naturally contemplative spaces.  They’re quiet, allow for extended walks and meanders, and they stir up all kinds of profound thoughts.  They’re museums without the admission, without the gift shop, without the herds.  And I have decided that this time of year is Cemetery Season–for me at least, where the dry rustle of passing Autumn marks each step, where the barren trees’ branches extend delicately into the sharp crisp air like beckoning hands.  They beckon me, perhaps how Black Friday sales beckon others on this here Black Friday.

A quick drive north and we were in Tarrytown to see the historical Sleepy Hollow Cemetery on a bright and cold afternoon.  Though this Hudson Valley town is a big deal during October, with the lure of the Washington Irving’s Legend of Sleepy Hollow and, more recently, the Great Jack-o-Lantern Blaze, the area returns to calm after the Halloween hullabaloo.  Even still, there were plenty of visitors spotted as we explored the cemetery grounds.

The cemetery, which used to called Tarrytown Cemetery, was renamed Sleepy Hollow Cemetery to honor Irving after his death in 1859.  Though I saw headstones from the 1700’s, it was officially established in 1849.  Through the years many famous New York notables have entered the grounds, including Andrew Carnegie, William Rockefeller, Walter Chrysler, and The Astors.  Also interred at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, my friend’s Great Aunt (III).  This is her monument! How cool is that!

The cemetery isn’t considered a “rural” cemetery, so its 90 acres are much more packed.  The headstones are plentiful and so characteristic that they look like foam replicas sold in the Halloween Aisle of CVS.  But no witty names, just really interesting ones.  Far better than any baby name book.

I was excited to see the Dibble Monument, resting place of George William Dibble and Susan Hayt “Susie” Parish Dibble. I am not sure who is the little girl depicted in the monument, but she has been hanging on for a long time.

This forlorn woman sits heartbroken at Edwin Lister’s grave.  He used to make fertilizer from cow bones. (source) Good times.  It’s unclear what she is holding in her hand.  It looks a bit thick to be a handkerchief to catch her tears. She is tearless, in stage four of the Seven Stages of Death perhaps?

This angel’s dress was distracting.

I loved how stones next to each other aged and weathered so differently.  

The ladies about the Owen Jones monument felt differently.

Triumph and blue

Inside a mausoleum

A gentle clutch of faith

What an expression, a mixture of strength and sadness.

A bit more indifference from this angle

Short folks with tall headstones

I love the haphazard placement. These were put here by men, not machine. 

Sometimes an angel seems to resent her role.  Like many women in history. And now too.

And she just wants you to leave her alone. No wait, not that alone.

The world in our heads exits through the eyes more than the mouth.

Her flirtatious posture and beautiful patina–there’s always one sexy angel.  Ok, sometimes more than one.

There were so many of these full size Bonsai-looking trees.  Ok, now I want to return in Spring. 

Androgyny.  I thought this was a male…

Then I saw this guy–Cemetery Hot.  Va-va-voom

There are constellations above him.  I suppose they’re above all of us though.  His are sculpted.  He’s got a anvil and hammer, perhaps because this monument is for Henry Villard, a railroad baron.  It is entitled The End of the Day’s Work.

This marble masterpiece was created by the very talented Architectural sculptor Karl Bitter.  Karl Bitter is kind of a big deal; check out his resume.  Now I want to see his other work at Green Mount Cemetery in Montpelier, Vermont and Forest Hills Cemetery, Utica, New York.  I’m pleased that these are totally drivable. 

We headed for a late lunch at Sweet Grass Grill. Our bodies were ca-put from fighting to stay warm in this first of frigid days.  The tempeh helped.  And I devoured my food so quickly I forgot to take a picture of it.  Rookie movie.

Then the sun kissed me in the car ❤️

It was time to head back to Brooklyn. What a lovely way to spend “Black Friday,” though I’d like not to acknowledge this as a thing it is so disgusting to me.

Also, I am officially created a new Category on my dear blog: Cemeteries.  It’s now official.