Today, I found that the second major street up from where I live eventually dead ends into a large cemetery with graves going back to the mid-1800s, including a plot of civil war veterans.
It's perched on the hill, and from the higher graves you can see the port of Oakland.
I felt half reverential and half desecrator, treading among the graves, peering into the old mausoleums, pushing old dirt of the markers laid down a generation before I was born.
2 comments:
thats where my grandparents (along with some other relatives) are buried.
Huh! What a coincidence, I wonder if Adam and I saw the markers.
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