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Dear Bohemian National Cemetery,
By briantologist | April 9, 2008
So I’ll admit I was a little concerned when, toward the end of our visit, we discovered the gates had been locked. But when Erin called the number on the office and a friendly man picked up and gave us directions to the service expert, the only black mark on our experience vanished.
Beyond that, our visit was terrific, and mind-boggling. Nearly every grave in the place was from before 1946, and there were fewer vowels on the headstones than I’d have ever thought possible in a place that size, and nearly half the headstones had tiny cameo pictures of the departed on them, and they were all of severe-looking women built like refrigerators, with the occasional nattily dressed husband thrown in for good measure.
And then there was the dead rooster. (Click for detail.)
See, it’s not just that I don’t usually encounter dead roosters, even though I don’t. It’s more that roosters are not nearly as likely to happen in as urban a setting as we live, with the possible exception of the Halal meat place on Western that sells ‘n’ kills poultry for you on site. Moreover, it’s the fact that dead roosters don’t just happen to end up on top of 4-1/2-foot gravestones. It’s not like this rooster was flying along and just happened to have a massive tiny heart attack and just happened to drop, stone dead, onto Rod. Vlazny’s giant chunk of granite. You find a dead rooster in a place like that, in a city like this, and what I’m telling you is that someone put it there on purpose. Anybody can see that.
The flies had started to go at it, and the dead cock had started to get gamey, and neither of those things were the most disconcerting thing about the whole scenario.
All of which is to say that, as cemetery experiences go, there are serious doubts in our household as to whether this one can ever be topped. Good job, Bohemians!
your pal,
the living Brian
Topics: Baffled Mutterings, Fucking Awesome, NaBloPoMo | 6 Comments »
April 9th, 2008 at 10:43 pm
There was this one time where I blundered into the Bohemian section of a graveyard… there were crows in EVERY tree. And the pictures of the people looked like their eyes followed you a la Haunted Mansion.
Eesh. But nothing tops the dead rooster. That’s some freaky shit.
April 10th, 2008 at 5:33 am
I hope you both crossed yourselves and threw salt over your shoulders. Or whatever you do when you’re witnessing a voodoo curse.
April 10th, 2008 at 6:43 am
ok, I’m totally in the dark on this one. Bohemian section of a graveyard? Expound, please.
April 10th, 2008 at 7:26 am
Erika, it’s *totally* some secret Polish Santeria sect voodoo mojo.
April 14th, 2008 at 10:19 am
Please mark your flacid cock photos NSFW.
June 11th, 2008 at 9:40 am
I think it was a creepy ritual sacrifice. Ever see Angel Heart?