Holly Grove Cemetery Visit a Cemetery at Night? My Mother's Grave

Holly Grove Cemetery

Haywood County, Tennessee 2006

We'd been two and a half weeks in Tennessee and I hadn't had a chance to stop by the cemetery to see my mom. We were planning on stopping on our way out. Saying goodbye to everyone had taken us much longer than we had expected, though.

We were sitting in Alamo, in the dollar store parking lot, trying to figure out how to get to the cemetery. It was cold and rainy and it was dark. Alex didn't want to stop there. It would be different, if it were in town. But this cemetery was located just before Brownsville, on a remote country road. I'd only been there twice before and that was during the day. I didn't see the road on the map, so I wasn't even sure I could find it.

As we discussed it, Alex kept reminding me that it was dark. He didn't want to go to a cemetery in the dark. He said he really felt bad for me, but it was dark. Reluctantly, I gave up on the idea of going. It was a huge disappointment, but at least we would be driving near it. Alex couldn't have been more relieved.

When we got near where I thought the road might be, I asked Alex to help me watch out for the sign. That would be the point where I would be closest to my mom. It was really hard to see. We passed a sign, but couldn't tell what it said, so I made my next left to turn around.

We ended up on a really dark scary road. Luckily, there was a long dirt driveway that I could use to back up and turn around. Both the road and driveway were very narrow and there were huge ditches on either side, plus a hill blocking us from the view of any oncoming traffic. There was no light anywhere and my reverse lights were too dim to help. It was real tense for a few moments. After successfully manuevering it, I was so glad to be pointed back toward the main road.

I decided I wouldn't go back to check the sign. About that time, Alex told me it would be okay with him if I wanted to go to the cemetery. So we talked about it on the way back to the highway and he said it couldn't be much scarier than where we had just been. "You're right," I said, "Let's go."

But he was wrong!

The road to the cemetery was dark and lonely and seemed to go on endlessly. The closer we got to our destination, the more I asked myself if I could really do this. My mom's grave was closer to the edge of the cemetery, but still, this was a cemetery and it was pitch black out here.

Out loud, I told Alex the story of the Holly Grove Cemetery and how my mom came to be buried here. The land had been donated to the Holly Grove Church by my great great great uncle Jeremiah Fletcher Castellaw and his wife Mary, and nearly everyone buried there was a member of our family. We had no reason at all to be afraid.

Until my mother's death in 1992, I had no idea we had "family." She died in Dallas and we were not sure where she would be buried. We had all been raised in Chicago and barely saw our Tennessee relatives. They contacted my brother and told him there was a place for her in the original Castellaw family portion.

And so she returned home to her birthplace to be buried. Her parents and grandparents are buried here, too. The more I thought about it and talked about it, the less I feared it. Aunts, uncles, cousins, great grandparents--people that would have loved us if they had known us--that's who we were coming to see.

We pulled up into the church parking lot and prepared to get out. We were under a tree, parked almost parallel to the road. There was no gate to the cemetery. It was just there, next to the church. Suddenly I felt like I was glued to my seat. All that talk about how safe we were, and now I was scared. Really, really scared. But I had told Alex I wanted this and he had been so generous in setting aside his fears. How could I back out now?

It was way too dark. I told Alex we needed light, so I backed up and pointed the headlights toward the cemetery. And there they were. Headstones! Row after row of headstones. I knew there was no way I could get out of the truck and walk out there among them. No way!

I searched for my mom's stone. I didn't see it. I thought I'd remembered exactly where it was, but it didn't seem to be there. That scared me even more. How could it be gone? It was a huge stone. How could I not see it? I pulled up a little closer, almost in the cemetery now, but still couldn't see it. I was going to have to get out if I wanted to find it.

Then Alex asked me if we could just stay in the truck. "Yes. Yes, we can," I told him. Even though I couldn't see the stone, or have a little talk with my mother, I felt like she knew we were there. In fact, that was a big part of the problem. I felt like they all knew we were there. I could almost see them--waiting and hoping and whispering, "Please...please have the nerve to walk out here."

"We can even leave now, if you want," I told Alex. He wanted. We left very quickly and I never had to admit how scared I was. Of course he'll find out now, once he reads this.

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