Gravely done

On Saturday, after I finally dragged my ass out of bed following our very late night at U2, Flattie very kindly took me (and Adam) up the road a ways from Thames to the Tararu Cemetery, where some of my heritage is buried.

Old cemeteries are cool and this one is very cool, built as it is on the side of a hill overlooking the Hauraki Gulf, with graves crammed higgledy-piggledy all over the hillside facing a variety of directions and in a variety of conditions ranging from very good to smashed and broken and beyond identification.









Add the night, some dry ice machines and a few strategically placed halogen lights and you'd have a graveyard fit for a B Grade movie. Or a Peter Jackson film (The Frighteners, anyone?).

But why did I inflict mountain climbing on my tired and frazzled body? I wanted to find the grave of my Great great great grandmother and grandfather, Anne Caroline and Henry Charles Lawlor, who both died in 1894.





And find it I did. It's been tumbled off its marble plinth, which has also been broken in two and lies on its back on top of the grave. There are lots like that in the cemetery, and worse.



Their daughter Elinor was to become my great great grandmother and is buried in our family cemetery at Oropi.



Great fun! On the way out, we met the custodian, whose name escapes me now, who voluntarily takes care of this monumental spot. He was very pleasant and interesting to chat to.

Family images borrowed from Geraldine Dunwoodie's excellent family genealogy site, with thanks.