"An Undying Shame", by Mitch Lipka, Philadelphia Inquirer 6/22/2006

Written by John Ellingsworth

Wednesday, 07 July 2004

The following article was printed in the Philadelphia Inquirer on 6/22/2006. You can read the full text below. An undying shame One of the sadder aspects of this region's history is the handling of old burial grounds many of them long forgotten, badly neglected. By Mitch Lipka Inquirer Staff Writer John Ellingsworth walked past the hulk of a burned-out car surrounded by trash and tick-infested, roof-high weeds, resigned that the mess had been there so long it was now part of the scenery. It was not until he reached the nearby trees that he got mad. That's where someone had erected makeshift kennels for wild dogs. This is a cemetery, and the dogs' homes are between gravestones. One pressed against the final resting place of a Maude Hubbard, who died in 1921. "It's not perpetual care," Ellingsworth said last week at Mount Moriah Cemetery in Southwest Philadelphia. "It's perpetual decline." Ellingsworth, whose mother and several prior generations are buried there, has been waging a thus far losing fight to rehabilitate sections of the massive cemetery at 62d Street and Kingsessing Avenue, where literally dozens of acres of weeds and overgrowth have swallowed the final resting place of thousands. Old cemeteries throughout the region have fallen victim to poor management, a loss of income when burials slow or stop, and a lack of interest as relatives moved and visits waned. Some have been so obscured they are discovered during construction, as was the case when an old Presbyterian graveyard was unearthed while the National Constitution Center was being built. In the Northeast, Cedar Hill, North Cedar Hill, and Knights of Pythias Greenwood Cemetery have all seen far better days. Mount Vernon, at Ridge and Lehigh Avenues, where the ashes of famed actor John Barrymore are buried, also has struggled. An official there blamed the problem on a broken lawn tractor and pledged that the situation was temporary and would be remedied. Tom Keels, author of Philadelphia Graveyards and Cemeteries, said he was saddened by the disintegration of some of the older cemeteries. "The resources go to the living," he said. "Let's face it, unless you have families that are making a big howl because they see their ancestors' graves being neglected, who is it hurting if somebody lets an old cemetery go to pot?" He added: "It is a destruction of a historic asset. These are the remains of people. They deserve to be treated with respect." On a recent visit to Cedar Hill, thick vines protruded through mausoleum doors and weeds wrapped so tightly around grave makers the names were unreadable. Jacqueline Khoshnevissan, office manager at Oakland Cemetery, which manages Cedar Hill and North Cedar Hill, said it had been a struggle to keep appearances up. Khoshnevissan said vandalism - from extensive graffiti to wholesale gravestone toppling - had been overwhelming and frustrating. Placing even a small stone back on its pedestal requires heavy machinery, she said, because the markers can range in weight from about 900 pounds to more than a ton. "It's a shame for the families because they think nothing bad will ever happen in a cemetery," Khoshnevissan said. What had once been rural areas have long since been surrounded by city. Those cemeteries that have suffered the most typically are small ones that once had been in a churchyard or a neighborhood that long ago changed constituencies. In Germantown, an old Presbyterian church cemetery has been overtaken by trees and brush. Such old cemeteries - not peculiar to Philadelphia but seen throughout the region - with no one to look after them and no family around that cares, succumb to the earth. "It's turning back into a forest," Keels said. Those in the death business accept the decay of older cemeteries as virtually inevitable. "If there's no activity, there's no income. You're really stuck," said Kenny Dupree, a veteran Philadelphia funeral director. "Some of these cemeteries were owned by organizations and the organizations have become defunct. What do you with a cemetery that's not functioning? To what extent should government get involved?" In Pennsylvania and New Jersey, the decision thus far is: not at all. Both say their laws give them no responsibility for failed cemeteries. Regulation of the cemeteries, by the Pennsylvania Real Estate Commission, is minimal. Veteran staff members cannot remember a cemetery being sanctioned for failure to maintain its grounds. Some groups have formed to save old cemeteries. The Society of Friends and members of the community restored the Fair Hill Burial Ground on Cambria Street, where abolitionist Lucretia Mott is buried. At the edge of Mount Moriah in an alley behind rowhouses in Southwest Philadelphia, the mid-19th-century B'nai Israel/Hebrew Mutual cemetery was abandoned. The Jewish Federation of Philadelphia got a phone call about a decade ago from a neighbor whose house overlooked the weedy lot of toppled grave markers and told the person who answered that the situation was shameful, recalled Stanley Barer. Officials with the federation and the Board of Rabbis had no idea what they would find when they investigated the call. "When we saw it, we got really upset," said Barer, who has led the effort to restore dignity to the burial ground. "It was just a total dump." It started with Sunday visits by volunteers to do a mitzvah, or good deed. Fund-raising ensued to make a lasting monument to the 400 people buried there. A few months ago, the biggest part of the project was completed. The once-decrepit patch of land is now fenced, and the surviving stones - 184 of the 400 - are set in cement rimming the fence. The idea was to create a memorial park that discouraged vandalism and kept maintenance to a minimum. The group created to save the cemetery, the Association for the Preservation of Abandoned Jewish Cemeteries, still has far to go to pay off a debt to the federation and ensure care there will be perpetual. Unlike many of the decaying cemeteries, Mount Moriah is still a functioning cemetery doing burials regularly. Indeed, one was taking place during Ellingsworth's jaunt into the far reaches of the graveyard. The area around the main cemetery road is generally well-kept, because that's where burials are still done and funeral processions pass. It's also where Ellingsworth's mother is buried. He and others said they have offered help to clean up sections and have been refused. A sign at the gate even notes such work is not welcome. Still, last year a group pulled out more than 80 tires from one small portion. After more than 10 years of trying to help the cemetery or get someone to force it to clean up, Ellingsworth - who helped produce a documentary about the problems - said he is close to giving up. "Everyone has come to a dead end," he said. "I'm just exhausted from the frustration and the lack of recourse." Contact staff writer Mitch Lipka at 215-854-5334 or This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it

Last Updated ( Tuesday, 29 November 2005 )

 

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