Start: Louisville, Kentucky
End: Memphis, Tennessee
States: Kentucky, Tennessee
Time Zone: Central
As you recall our trip to Cave Hill Cemetery was abruptly cut short, as they close at the unusually early hour of 4:45 PM. So despite a dismal start to the day, damp and ominous looking with a water aerobics class going on outside out hotel room window in the pool (I'm not kidding, they had floating barbells and everything) the weather rapidly improved to a blindingly sunny day. So after checking out we returned to see Cave Hill properly in all its glory.
Cave Hill is a rural cemetery, which if you don't know all that much about cemeteries has certain distinct features. Garden or rural cemeteries developed in the mid-nineteenth century in response to overcrowded and unsanitary inner city burial grounds. They were large and open, usually on the outskirts of cities or even in the first fringes of the suburbs. They were green park-like spaces full of plants and trees meant to blur the transition between the mundane everyday life and the divine, the land of the living and the land of the dead. Not regimental places their paths meander and curve, with monuments integrated into the landscape. Of course in grand Victorian fashion few monuments actually achieve this, most are grand to the point of ridiculousness. Marble and granite sculpture are common, as a re motifs such as urns and classical colonnades and temples. Usually a grand chapel is a feature of the landscape as well as water (lakes, streams, quarries) and other natural features. Many East Coast cities boast them, the first being built in Cambridge, Mass. If you've seen The Departed, this cemetery Mount Auburn is featured for both funerals in the movie.
Cave Hill is a fascinating example, and we spent a good hour and a half exploring fully. It was murderously hot in the strong sunlight and we were eaten alive by mosquitos, but it was well worth it. There is a fantastic array of statuary, including some very modern pieces in bronze (including good ole Colonel Sanders whose grave features a bronze bust done by his daughter Margaret). We did encounter a funeral, which we steered clear of. It does serve to remind us of course that it is still fully operational and living thing. There are dozens of workers, mowing, trimming, scrubbing, and polishing monuments. Their perpetual care fund climbs into the millions of dollars, and it shows. We did at one point pass a car with its trunk open, and by the car sat a man in a folding chair by a grave, probably his wife's. There was a bunch of flowers on the grave which he must have brought. We couldn't help but want to know his story, had she died recently? Did he come there every day? How long did he stay for? I don't know the answers to any of those questions, but I can say that it was very poignant and extremely beautiful, in a sad sort of way.
Lest I depress anyone too much let me fill you in on the highlight of our visit to Cave Hill Cemetery. The large central administration office overlooks one of the lakes, and on the bank of the lake is the cave for which the cemetery is named, running 246 feet into the hillside. After doing some photography we pulled up outside the office to regroup and examine our map. As I got out to take a few photos of the lake a duck or two wandered up the slope and over my way. Within minutes the entire car was engulfed in ducks, geese, and a pair of swans. Alyssa is sitting inside the car, which is running and I am fifteen feet away trying to remember what they had done in a similar situation in the Hitchcock movie. Ideally the car would be moved, but what if they followed it or jumped in front of the wheels. While not stated in the Cemetery rules and regulations, I'm pretty sure if you run over one of their ducks, they shoot to kill. Clearly Alyssa walled into into the passenger seat by luggage was powerless, so I swept a path through the ducks and entered the car. Okay, that didn't help. I suggested that we throw food away from the car so they would leave us alone, as I reach for a bag of Goldfish Alyssa admonishes me that salty foods are bad for them. Finally we unearthed our Cheerios and I began pitching them out the window, it worked but it was touch and go there for a few minutes.
Leaving Cave Hill we made a few important stops before leaving for Memphis. 1.) Krispy Kreme, where we got half a dozen glazed donuts (I was admonished for not getting half a dozen more for only a dollar) and one of thhe sweet paper hats. Why? Because Krispy Kreme is good for the soul, that's why. 2.) Boarders, Alyssa has been reading to me to keep me awake on long stretches, a sort of human audiobook. The fiction admittedly is not stellar, rather tawdry romance novels but today we finished and were in need of new fodder. I bought two, its a long way to California. 3.) Staples, for CDs because we've listened to all our mix tapes until they got old, and need more.
The trip south was fairly smooth, not bad driving and exciting because we crossed into out first new time zone. Even now several hours later we're both still confused because between the car clock, 2 cell phones, and various other electronic devices only half say the correct time. We also unplugged our hotel alarm clock (which said the proper time) to plug in said devices. I give up on getting the time right, is it really so important? Tonight we stay in comfort, we hope, at the Comfort Inn. We discovered too late (or at least Alyssa did) that in room 210 the toilet doesn't flush. When we called the front desk about it the girl who checked us in actually came up to make sure we were using it properly. Excuse me is there another way to flush a toilet I don't know about? Needless to say, we are all toilet flushing experts now, and the toilet still being broken, are now located in another room.
Dinner was also an experience, in search of Memphis Italian on Google I found a down home neighborhood place called Pete and Sam's in East Memphis. It is apparently quite an institution, and popular, we only got a parking space by pure dumb luck when a couple left. Inside is not glamourous, faux wood paneling and olive green pleather banquets. There was also the wall of celebrities, most of whom had actually eaten there, but a few, like Elvis just ranked a picture. The food and service were good, and it had a very authentic feel. The crowing glory however was the tree of American Glory. Its not actually called that, but it should be. From the floor up to about three and a half feet its a wooden pole, like those you see holding flags at town meetings or in school auditoriums. Above that faux pine branches, presumably from an artificial Christmas tree were drilled into "the trunk". From said limbs hung every form of patriotic paraphernalia you can imagine, flags, garland,banners, bunting, starts, streamers, just to name a few. Now I'm as proud to be an American as any other, however it was just so startlingly incongruous where it was. Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore (or aren't there yet, thats not until next week).
