She was a bit distressed when she called, and distressed people are generally routed in my direction.  The message I got wasn’t exactly coherent (and I understood why later), therefore, the first order of business was to obtain clarity.  So, with her husband’s funeral record in hand, I returned her call.

It seems that almost a decade ago we buried him in a rural cemetery in an adjoining state, in a row of graves that had been set aside for his family by the father of the current cemetery committee member with whom I finally spoke.  And now someone else was buried in the spot she’d planned on using for herself when the time came.  And she expected us to fix it.

So I called a funeral home in that county seeking the name of a committee member and a contact phone number (with fingers crossed since many rural cemeteries don’t have committees . . . therefore, no members . . . therefore, no phone numbers), but I was in luck.  Not only was there a committee, but I hung up with the name and phone number of a member.

To make a long story somewhat shorter, contrary to her belief, the cemetery didn’t sell her lot to its current occupant in 1996. It’s first come, first served, so no lots have ever been sold there.  The person occupying “her spot” was another family member who, five years after her husband’s death, had been placed there with the permission of her husband’s family.  To further complicate matters, she had never placed a monument on her husband’s grave . . . like, a double monument that would have acknowledged his presence and reserved her place.  And now, five years after she lost her spot . . . ten years after her husband died . . . I was getting a phone call.

I understood her distress, but we didn’t conduct the second burial; we don’t control the cemetery, and I can’t intervene on her behalf with her husband’s family because, honestly, it’s not any of our business.  This is between her and his family and the cemetery committee.  And based on our initial conversation, I’m pretty sure she isn’t going to understand that.

So why am I telling you this?  Because the entire situation could have been prevented if she’d just bought a monument to mark her husband’s grave and to reserve her own.  It’s a cautionary tale about burying in rural cemeteries and just trusting that your eternal resting place will be there when the time comes.

As I reviewed that last paragraph it occurred to me a caveat might be in order.  Many rural cemeteries do a wonderful job of keeping up with who’s supposed to go where.  However, often the original records were never written down for posterity.  They were stored in the noggin’ of a sole cemetery caretaker or committee member, which can make the difficult task of approving burials even more so, especially when the original keeper of the mental notes has long since taken their leave.  But even with the best of records (and physical evidence on the ground), mistakes can be made.  For example, a few years ago a family that I know quite well called, concerned that, despite having corner markers placed in their cemetery of choice, someone had managed to trespass in to their lots.  Not on to.  Literally, in to.  So what happened?  Grass.  Grass happened.  The markers were flush with the ground, the grass grew over them, and the member of the committee that marked the grave for the family we were serving didn’t see them and therefore, didn’t know the site had already been claimed.

This is the very reason you see iron fences and concrete borders in many of the older cemeteries.  Those proclaim to all the world that a particular area is only to be used by certain people.  No random strangers allowed—and even family members usually require permission. But those fences and borders make grounds maintenance difficult, so most cemeteries are no longer allowing them to be constructed.

So, what’s a person supposed to do if they want to be absolutely certain the final resting places of their family will be available when needed?  Plan A:  Buy a monument.  It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate or huge.  It can be a standard 12 inch by 24 inch flat marker with just your name engraved on it.  It can even be smaller, as long as you make certain the grass doesn’t engulf it.  Just put something there that says “These are taken . . .please go somewhere else.”  Plan B:  If you don’t want to buy a whole monument, buy corner markers.  These are usually six inch by six inch pieces of granite (although they can be almost any size and shape) with the initial of your last name (or anything else that will fit in the available space) etched into the surface.  Generally, these are placed at each corner of your block of lots (hence the name . . . corner markers) although it’s advisable to use them across the head and foot of your spaces as well, if you’re attempting to mark an abundance of graves.  And then keep them from playing hide and seek in the grass.  A good trimming/weed eating once in the spring and once in the fall goes a long way toward helping your corner markers do their job.

I don’t know what’s going to happen with the little lady and her grave predicament (pun intended), but I’m pretty sure there isn’t going to be a happy ending to her story.  It would be nice if I could get my magic wand out of the shop and just make everything better, but I’m pretty sure that won’t happen, either.  So in the meantime, may I suggest we all learn a valuable lesson?  If you make your cemetery reservations in advance, be sure you have something to show for your efforts.  That may be a deed of interment rights issued by the cemetery.  It may be a monument that makes it almost impossible for anyone else to occupy your spot.  Whatever your chosen method of declaring ownership, just be sure it doesn’t rely solely on trust.

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

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