Friday, May 29, 2009
I keep going back to River Valley Cemetery. (See previous entry -River Valley Cemetery.) I've there six times in the last month or so. I am both saddened and attracted to the place. Which pretty much summarizes my whole approach to life. The ground is always soggy with some kind of, (no doubt) nuclear leakage from the LG&E plant and the sludge covered hills that separates the cemetery from the plant. The area is littered with discarded wooden crosses, hand painted memorials and sunken graves. While I was at the cemetery the other day I came across a head stone, (which is pretty good, because a lot of people here don't even get a headstone.) there was an old style cameo picture, above the dates of his birth and death. He was Vietnamese. Actually the first thing that caught my eye on the headstone was the word "Vietman." It took a second for it to register, Vietman? Is that a guy who went to Vietnam? I kept looking at it make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. Yep, it says "Vietman." Then I took a look at the rest of the headstone and saw the date, the picture and the guy's name and I thought, oh no, is this a typo? (or worse, a slur?) This poor guy, who either donated his body to the medical school for a free burial or was indigent, has to spend the rest of eternity with a typo on his headstone. A typo! Hasn't he given up enough? What's next? "Blackman."