Cedar Fort cemetery
Avery, Callie, Lucy and I drove into Cedar Fork, parked at the LDS Church, and walked over the cemetery. I'd heard that Cedar Fort has an old cemetery, and since I hadn't taken the kids to many cemeteries, I thought it would be a good idea. After walking about a mile, we reached the entrance of the cemetery. Cedar Fort seems to be an old town, one that never really saw a thriving day. No house is new, many are run-down, and the general absence of sidewalks and people made it seem as if, on a Sunday afternoon, we were walking through a ghost town.
The cemetery isn't one of those daily-manicured lawns, but is rather more natural. Callie didn't believe that there were dead people buried there. Show me a dead person, she said, and then I'll believe. I explained that they're buried in coffins, six feet below ground. Then show me a coffin, she said. It got to be hilarious.
As we perused the cemetery, looking for old grave sites, we saw a good many epithets. I'm not quite sure what I would write on my grave, but certainly not this:
Cemeteries are always sobering. They whisper carpe diem at every turn, especially to see so many young. But this cemetery didn't make me feel like life was ephemeral. It wasn't overly sad either -- in fact, many grave sites had little dog statues representing deceased pets.
Like tourists, we traveled up and down the cemetery paths, and then back out onto the roads through town. As we were traveling back, we came across the real pioneer cemetery. You almost miss it if you're not paying attention. It contains a single plaque marking a grave area, with dates in the early 1850s. Apparently Indians killed many of the pioneers. You can read it here:
On our way back, we saw a young teenage boy practicing his roping skills on a small manmae steel cafe (basically a hay bale with horns).
This trip to Cedar Fort was our first adventure walk, and it was a success. We proved that new places are all around us, waiting to explore. Something with appeal so basic as a cemetery can light a mind with intrigue. I'm not sure if it's kosher, but Sunday afternoons are perfect for these outings.
About Tom Johnson
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