n the middle of Hartford lies The Old Burying Ground. This little cemetery is next to a church. Many of the founding families of Hartford are buried there. The gravestones are old, faded and, in some cases, have fallen over. In the midst of the traffic and noise of a city, this little place of quiet and refuge tells a story.
So many markers are for women who died at the age of 30 or thereabouts. You know they died in childbirth. So many children, taken so young. Oh, it’s heartbreaking to read these stones.
Every stone tells a story. Some are very simple, some are ornate. I don’t know about you, but I like visiting old cemeteries. I’m always quiet, doing my best to honor those who have departed. In a graveyard as old as this one, you really get a sense of what life was like in the mid to late 1700’s. Though there were many stones that told of untimely death, there were also many for people who lived into their 80’s. How must it have felt to be one of the original settlers of a town? How brave they all were.
Just a snapshot from my time on the road.