Pine Creek History Lesson

I’m a member of the local Rotary Club here in Chico, California. For those unfamiliar with Rotary, it is a 1.2 million member international service organization devoted to good works and promoting understanding and peace throughout the world. Most members are business, government, and academic leaders in their communities. About once a year, I am asked to speak about cemeteries at one of our local clubs. Members are used to me now, and look forward to my presentations. That was not always the case.

Some years back, when I was first asked to speak about cemeteries, the announcement of my lecture was greeted by more than a few raised eyebrows. What could cemeteries possibly have to do with peace and understanding and leadership?

My first presentation was based on my book, Going Out in Style: The Architecture of Eternity. I started my lecture with an illustration of the tomb of KIng Mausolus in ancient Halicarnassus and described how that was the origin of the word mausoleum. I then  highlighted a variety of mausoleums, including private family mausoleums and community mausoleums throughout America mostly focusing on the variety of architecture styles that mausoleums represent. The lecture went well, and people were astounded with the wealth of information and sense of community that cemeteries offer.

Afterwards, a phenomenon, that I am now used to, occurred: a number of people came up to me and professed their love for cemeteries. It seems that being interested in cemeteries is something most people keep secret from their associates lest they be labeled weird or freakish, but, given the opportunity, cemetery aficionados are quick to share their passion.

In fact, there are legions of cemetery lovers, so much so that they now have a name: taphophiles. Simply put, the word taphophile means epitaph lover. Taphophiles understand that cemeteries are not just repositories of the dead, they are places rich in art, architecture, history and stories. Cemeteries are repositories of life. And when taphophiles find other taphophiles, they feel like their appreciation for cemeteries is finally validated.

Frequently after one of my presentations, people come up to me and tell me about a local cemetery that I ‘just have to’ visit. My informers speak of the quiet beauty and history their favorite local cemetery has to offer, and implore me to visit often, telling me that they would be more than happy to accompany me.

Following one of my talks, fellow Rotary member George Walker told me about Pine Creek Cemetery telling me it was his favorite local cemetery. “You’ll find lots of local history there.” He said pointing a finger at me.

George continued to point his finger at me for the next six months.

George finally wore me down, and thus, on a chill late December day, I found myself in Pine Creek Cemetery, a scant few miles north of Chico.

Prior to embarking on my excursion, I enlisted the aid of my friend Molly, a fellow enthusiastic taphophile. I scanned Google Earth, found the tidy cemetery, plugged the latitude and longitude coordinates into my GPS, and we made our way to Pine Creek Cemetery. We weren’t disappointed by what we found.

Everywhere we turned seemed to be a name we knew. There were stones for Broyles and Keefer, who had nearby roads named after them. I saw a stone with Roney carved into it, and wondered if it was a friend’s grandparents. Molly wanted to go over to a gravestone that looked like three stones wedded together. She guessed that it might mark the graves of children. Indeed, when we inspected the triple-humped gravestone, we found that it honored Willie O. Lyons who was born in 1882, Clarence Sessions, who was born in 1883, and Nannie Sessions, who was born in 1880. But what was most interesting was that all three children had died on August 5, 1887.

I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. No doubt Clarence and Nannie were brother and sister. But why was Willie buried with them? Was he a relative? A friend? What terrible tragedy befell them? As I write this, 24 hours later, I still don’t know. But because George Walker directed me to Pine Creek Cemetery, there is now a chance of finding out.

That’s what cemeteries do: they preserve lives and history. They arouse curiosity. They connect us. Now I feel a more solid connection to my community and it’s history. I’ll feel even more of a connection when I find out what happened to Willie and Nannie and Clarence over a century ago.

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