Springtime with the Dead People

Dear Liza,

I hadn’t visited our Lone Fir Cemetery in a while, and was missing the sense of perspective that going there always gives me. I was not disappointed.

Mr. And Mrs. Stephens, the original residents, seen just beyond a toppled stone

The dandelions and tiny belladonna daisies are everywhere, bringing a sense of beauty and renewal to the uneven rows of headstones.

The tall willow by the east entrance towers over the graves, as if sheltering them from too much sun.

Odd things caught my eye, as well. This years-old stump has been decorated with crow feathers and flower petals, and seems to bring some older spirits to the place.

And, as part of the newly installed section marking stones, I get to learn the name of the narrow area of graves along the west fence. Am I crazy, or does “Westside Singles” sound more like a dating website than part of a cemetery?

And there you go. Perspective restored.

Love,

Grandma Judy

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Author: Judy

I am a new transplant to Portland from Salinas, a small city in Central California. This is a blog about my new city.

3 thoughts on “Springtime with the Dead People”

  1. Hello, wanting to keep up on news of lone fir cemetery I found your blogs. My maiden name smith, my siblings and I are dependence of the late Coburn Barrel. Male Dependence prior and future seems in each generation found the shipping industries as a income.. my brother went to kings point on scholarship for merchant marine then worked for tideman tub boat, my father merchant marine holding longest running active sailors log at the time of his death. Also help finance the ship built for captain Greys exp

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  2. His family financed , not him personally. Obviously he hadn’t been born yet. Anyway I have lots of info on lone fir. My family has found thru my grandma’s intriguing love to share our families past before she past, brought so much info and ties to the portland area that I find so interesting. I’m sad to say I only have a few photos left after my house was broke in, that my grandma gave me, of Coburn and Amielia, and others I can’t name for old letters were lost in the break in.

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