Desecration Of The Deceased

      As I arose this morning getting ready for another busy day, I hopped and bopped about the house in preparation to do my monthly shopping expedition to several stores.  I was set to get some groceries and a few items for my upcoming Easter celebration.  Being in a very good mood, even without my first cup of coffee of the day yet, I settled in to do a little Gathering with the area news on the television.  As I sat pondering what topic to touch on with a bit of humor, the news anchor began reviewing the top story of the day...and my heart fell out of sadness.

      The report centered around a small town in western New York located about one half hour south of the city of Rochester.  The hamlet is named Nunda (pronounced Nun-day') established in 1808; an Iroquois Indian word meaning "hilly".  It's a tiny hamlet with a population of less than 1,300 and really has no claim to fame.  But here it was, in the spotlight; not because of something good that took place there; but the subject of something horrible that happened to part of the burg's history. 

      One of the town's tiny cemetaries had been the target of vandals.  It seems some rapscallions had gone on a rampage toppling and breaking to pieces 87 of the tombstones marking the final resting place of those who had given their blood, sweat and tears to help build the small village into the "booming" metropolis it is today.  The markers dated from the early 1830's to the 1920's; the last time an internment took place.  With the residents already in the planning stages for their bicentenial celebration next year, the entire hamlet came to a halt with the news of what had occured.  The senseless act stunned the townsfolk in what had happened itself and the emotional damage ran deep.  Some of those who reside in this town have roots that can be traced back to those whose tombstones had been all but been destroyed. 

      Had something like this taken place in a large city, most would hardly notice and go about life with business as usual.  It's quite different in a close-knit community.  The people came together to assess the damage and immediately began to salvage the broken pieces of their history; the lives of their ancestors; with tender, loving care; removing the mounds of markers to a safe location.  Just as quickly, efforts were started by volunteers to raise the money needed to make repairs and place the tombstones back with their rightful owner's final resting spot...their spirit would not be broken by this senseless violation.

      Is it just a sign of the times; young people having no respect for others and finding fun in destroying what some hold sacred?  Don't kids even think any more; not only about the feelings of others, but the consequences of their actions?  Times sure have changed.  When I was younger, I and others at least had the common sense to realize a cemetary was a place to show respect for those who had gone before us.  We had our fun in these places.  They were great for holding a rousing game of Hide and Go Seek; many places to steal away so we didn't get tagged.  They were always a focal spot at Halloween when only the brave would walk through a cemetary on a dare.  Even as we got older, they were sometimes used as a gathering place to have an occassional drinking party by a small group of friends.  But we always respected the property in the regards we would never even think of knocking over headstones, let alone touch flowers that were placed in memory of the dearly departed.  Even when we joined together to have a few beers, we were always careful to clean up any litter we may have left and place it in the trash containers provided.  We realized just where we were and the beauty and rich history it represented.

      I guess it's just a sign of my generation and those before me maturing and getting older; the values we possess just haven't sunk into the heads of those younger than us.  Not all have no regard and don't know better.  But it seems like more and more simply don't care; don't care about others and maybe not even themselves.  It's a sad state of affairs to know some of these people will be the leaders of tomorrow.  I sure hope they make some realizations in their life before the take over the reigns of the future or we're all in trouble if they're only really out for themselves with no regards for the rest of us.

      I've always kidded around when asked what I want done once I finally pass on to the great beyond...burial, cremation, masoleum.  I would always say I wanted to be sent to a taxidermist; preserved and stuffed.  Let's have a party!  Don't mourn my death; celebrate my life.  Just prop me up in the corner somewhere with a cocktail in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  Decorate me with flowers and brightly colored streamers.  Don't cry over me.  Smile and laugh over the happiness and joy I brought into other's lives.  The more I think about it; I'm almost convinced that's the way I want to go; how I want to be remembered.  It's not really the end; just the next step on my journey through eternity.  I don't know what's going to happen once I take that final breath, but I'm sure it's not over.  Many people have different beliefs.  It's just too bad it's such a sad state affairs when even the dead can't rest in peace anymore.