Pausing to Write amid the Graves

Before our visit to Gettysburg and its battlefield, we enjoyed several busy days in Philadelphia, where we took in all the famed historical sites at the center of the old downtown. They were certainly worth seeing -- at times almost thrilling to see. But we also enjoyed just as much our tour of the area called Society Hill just south of the historic district, where there are dozens of church buildings, housing active congreagtions, amid the restored rowhouses that Philly is famous for. Along with all the churches were many adjoining cemeteries, graveyards being of one of our family's common foci during vacations. I have always loved visiting cemeteries, and Logan has become enamored of the practice as well. Even Marsha has long been fascinated by cemeteries. Shown here is a shot of Logan in one of those Philly church cemeteries on Society Hill. He asked us to move on to the next church down Pine Street while he stayed behind and sat on a cement bench. There he took out his notebook and set to work on some piece of writing he had been laboring over during vacation. Upon our return, I found him still there at work. I never found out what he was writing, though. These matters remain pretty private for teenagers, generally speaking.

I have long pondered my interest in cemeteries. Seeing that generations passed on is always of great interest. And seeing a tangible sign of their passing, the sign being the graves, somehow enriches one's understanding of the past, makes it more real, penetrates one's excogitations on history with a striking sense of reality. In this particular cemetery, found in the courtyard of the Old Pine Street Presbyterian Church, were located the graves of several Native American leaders who were among the first Natives to sign a treaty with the newly created (by revolutionary war) United States of America.