I had to run an errand. And, trying to be courageous in this
round-about-there-is-no-straight-line-between-point-A-and-point-B city of Pittsburgh , I tried a
different route. I’m still amazed that there actually are some hidden treasures
in this city despite the atypical view that it’s a steel city that will never
completely loose that air of non-refinement.
Like many northeastern areas, Pittsburgh has cemeteries hidden everywhere.
All of them are built on hills. (My dad would be pleased to know he could be
put anywhere and have a great view on resurrection day.) This cemetery was just
like that – the gravestones going up and down the hill in no particular order,
a winding road encircling one side of them as it disappeared over the ridge. Since
I was driving down a winding road of my own, I couldn’t look as much as I
wanted. And I really wanted to look.
Not because I find cemeteries fascinating, which I do. I
especially love ones that have crumbling gravestones dating back a few
centuries. This one just had an extremely unique feature I was trying to find
an explanation for. And didn’t.
The feature? Well, planted right near one of the two stone
columns that stood on each side of the entryway was a large, multi-mailbox. You
know, the type that apartment complexes have with several boxes, one for each
apartment. Only…there was no apartment complex that I could see. Only
gravestones in a cemetery.
Puts a whole new spin on “dead letter office”.
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