Setting Things Right

Last week, I told you with great sadness about the senseless acts of destruction that occurred at one of the old cemeteries in Boalsburg. On a Saturday night, vandals pushed over and broke more than 50 grave stones and monuments. Boalsburg's main claim to fame is that it is the birthplace of Memorial Day, and the acts were especially despicable considering that the town has been gearing up for the 150th anniversary of that event at the end of this month. It's a very big deal.

I had a dentist appointment in Boalsburg scheduled for this morning - I somehow broke a crown and never even noticed it - and this morning was to be the first of two visits for the repair. I anticipated a long and grueling session at the dentist, and I wasn't looking forward to it. But I thought that if I left a little early, I might mollify myself by getting fifteen minutes or so with my camera at the Boalsburg cemetery to check on the progress of the restoration work.

When I arrived at the cemetery, I first walked through the area with very old stones near the church. A number of them had already been repaired, and some were works in progress. And as I moved through the cemetery from there, I was startled to discover that - save that one spot near the church - almost all of the other stones had already been repaired!

I noted indentations in the grass, spots where fallen stones had lain, bits of fresh earth in places where there hadn't been before around the repaired stones. Beyond that, you could barely tell the vandalism had ever occurred! It was encouraging news, and my steps grew light with a hopeful feeling I hadn't had before.

The stones and monuments in this cemetery are maintained by Mayes Memorials in nearby Lemont, and very shortly, some of the workers who had been doing the repair work showed up in a large red truck, parked it by the church (you can sort of see the top of their red truck above some of those grave markers near the church), and resumed their efforts.

At first there were just two men there working - they would soon be joined by several more - and I couldn't resist walking over to them and telling them what a fantastic job they were doing. "It looks like you're almost all done!" I said, "It really looks amazing!" "Making some progress," the one man replied humbly; and then, "Thanks," with a smile.

I had arrived in the cemetery in a light drizzle that ended shortly and gave way to peeks of sun. Just before I left the graveyard, I walked back to this, one of my favorite monuments in the whole place - it was featured, in its fallen state, in last week's Blip - and photographed it standing tall against the light, as it was meant to be.

And I thought how much it would mean to these people, to this town, to have the restoration work completed in time for their big celebration. I was pleased and strangely even a bit proud to have had the opportunity to bear witness to both the damage and the process of setting things right.

And for one last, long second, I stood in the shadow of the cross and felt oddly peaceful and comforted, looking out over the cemetery: at the fresh earth, at green grass peppered with tiny purple violets, at the repaired stones, at the men, strong and cheerful in their work. And I smiled to myself and thought again, as I often do, that while darkness may sometimes briefly look like it's winning, it really cannot vanquish the light. At least, not as long as we refuse to let it . . .

The soundtrack is a song by Passenger, Scare Away the Dark.

Well, sing, sing at the top of your voice,
Love without fear in your heart.
Feel, feel like you still have a choice
If we all light up, we can scare away the dark