Tag Archives: mausoleum


Drove through the expansive South Hill Cemetery tonight.  I was surprised to see a mausoleum there, akin to something you’d see in a New Orleans cemetery.  I didn’t think people in smaller cities would go the mausoleum way, but there you have it.

I had to get out to see it.  I was fascinated. It has iron doors and a gate in front of the doors.  The door has a handle, and I confess I considered reaching through the gate to turn it and see what would happen.  What a strange thing to be buried but not lie six feet underground.  I was fascinated in a fearful, creepy sort of way by the notion of this building—this one-room building—with a body inside it accessible in the same way as any other room in the world is accessible: by a (locked) door.  I stared at the handle for a while, but the combination of uneasiness and good sense won the day and I walked away.  But I felt the pull of that place even as we drove off—it seems so mysterious to me.