I find forsaken cemeteries a tonic to modern ills. Whenever I spend time in untended graveyards I discover sentiments and farewells mourners hoped someone would read. I come away a better man. Down a state highway into countryside I drove, then down an old road, and then a dirt road. There it was, the Ware Cemetery. Seashells covered two of its graves. I’ve seen solitary shells upon tombstones plenty of times. Here, I came upon two graves with mounds encased in scallop shells, a protective cover, like a shingled roof. This custom took place in the South during Reconstruction. African Americans placed shells on graves as a symbol. The sea brought them to America and when they died shells symbolized the next great crossing to the Promised Land.
An eloquent and beautiful tribute to those who have passed and lie under these beautiful shells. Thank you forwriting this.