New England Oddities

A Potter’s Field In Springfield

Burial grounds in New England boast a wide variety of markers, from traditional stones, to crosses, to flat plaques, benches, raised tables and even obelisks. But what of a graveyard with no visible markers whatsoever?

Bay Path Cemetery in Springfield, Massachusetts is one such “stoneless” yard. Also called the Almshouse Burial Grounds, Bay Path Cemetery is home to nearly a thousand former residents of the town poorfarm and the old Municipal Hospital. Giving every impression of an empty lot, the small cemetery sits on a corner of Blunt Park by Roosevelt Avenue. It is surrounded by a low chain-link fence with locked gates, and contains a solitary stone marker bearing an inscription from Matthew: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Continue reading A Potter’s Field In Springfield…

The Restless Captive

High above, the sun’s rays bombarded the earth with malevolent force. I tried with determination to ignore the heat and concentrate on catching a trout or two, but the beads of sweat streaming down my face served as a grim reminder that today would have been better spent in the confines of our air-conditioned home.

Evidently, the trout had the same idea, as they were unwilling to move from the river’s depths to chase our offerings. Oh, how clear and cool the water looked, but I realized the consequences outweighed the benefits of staying put. Instead I opted to escape the blistering heat under the sheltering limbs and leaves of the woods directly behind us.

Frustrated and beginning to sunburn from the searing heat, I seized a polystyrene cup someone had carelessly discarded on the river bank and walked into the soothing embrace of the wood. After a moment’s appreciation for the shade, I went to the task of turning over laid down timber, hoping to find earthworms for bait. My efforts were rewarded rather quickly, but at the last log I was to raid, a flash of color the size of an adult crossed my view.

I stood up quickly, dropping my container, and scanned the woods in all directions. My heart felt as if it would leap out of my chest. I focused upon the direction in which I thought the the blur had moved, and a short distance away, amongst the trees protruding from the soft soil, stood a stone marker. My eyes flickered in each direction to reassure myself that I was alone, and then, with cautious steps, I proceeded forward.

Continue reading The Restless Captive…