822I stumbled upon the cemetery in New Orleans. I had no plans to search one out. I tend to not like the morbid, but once I found one I couldn’t not go in…

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It was creepy, even in broad daylight! It is surrounded by high walls, to keep people out (or in), and has iron gates that lock. The graves are built above ground as the water table in New Orleans is too high and coffins were apt to float away if there was a heavy rain. Nobody wants posthumous grandma making her way back home.

 

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But these were more than graves they were monuments; almost all of them quite a bit taller than me making visibility difficult. There was also a creepy guy wondering the cemetery with me, which just added to the spookiness of the whole experience. We would run into each other periodically and I quickly recognized that I only had one direction that I could run if he decided to give chase. Though I thought his looks quite nefarious he never made a move in my direction and I photographed in peace…relative peace.

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The cemetery dates back to the late 18th century and only good Catholics could be buried on the grounds. As you can tell from the pictures many of the tombs are crumbling ruins, which serves as a reminder that time marches on even when we don’t.

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Is it weird that the “breathing” hole in this tomb freaked me out? Why would the dead have to breathe? What are the holes for? You know what, I really don’t want to know.

There were a surprising number of statues, or maybe I just don’t notice them much in a regular cemetery. Whatever the reason I spent maybe 15 minutes in the cemetery before the world got dim, it was cloudy so the sun was already hiding. The hairs on my head felt like they were trying to stand on in and run from my scalp. I left, leaving the dead the company for the other dead.

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