By Erik Hare
This Memorial Day, many people will find themselves nervously standing around a boneyard, uncomfortable being on a piece of land that seems to be reserved for the departed. This is a shame, because one of my favorite places in Saint Paul is Oakland Cemetery.
It was founded in 1853, when the expanding city needed a place to handle the growing number of deceased. The city fathers picked 40 acres of wooded hill just outside the limits which all the churches agreed to use communally. It has been carefully preserved ever since, a small nature preserve now well within the city.
It is much more than just a respite from the city, however. The people who are spending eternity on this land make up a tapestry of stories you can read by going from stone to stone in an afternoon of exploring. There is the section of Civil War veterans (pictured), row upon row of those who gave everything to end slavery and keep the Union whole. There are six former governors, including Alexander Ramsey who gave his name to our county. James Goodhue rests here, the founder of the Minnesota Pioneer that lives on today as the Pioneer Press.
One of my favorite stories is on the stone of a more recent resident of Oakland, a Hmong immigrant. The vital statistics that make up his story read:
Jan 13, 1913
USA Feb 12, 1980
Jan 15, 2001
Coming to America was obviously a rebirth worthy of note to all of eternity. It must have been what made him who he was. There is no better way to me to explain what all the sacrifices of veterans just southeast of him were for.
I often come to Oakland to see the Spencer family, who built my home in 1860, the year Lincoln was elected. The Spencers are buried near the people who built all of the homes around my neighborhood. They were neighbors in life, and they are neighbors for all eternity. That was the pioneer experience.
When I visit the Spencers, I often bring a few flowers from their yard. This is the sort of thing that people used to do back in the 1800s, when cemeteries like Oakland were the only large green places in the city. Whole families would come out and tend the graves and have a picnic – a sort of family reunion made large. They typically did this at the start of summer, when the ravages of winter needed tending to and fresh flowers could be planted. That seems to be the origins of Memorial Day, a holiday otherwise shrouded in mystery until the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), the Civil War Veteran’s Association, proclaimed it in 1868.
I will fly my flag of 33 stars and visit Oakland to celebrate this day. To me, it is a Civil War holiday as much as anything. But Oakland Cemetery, there is so much more to enjoy and even celebrate. It’s worth visiting any time of the year.
