When Andrew and I drive anywhere together, he’s at the wheel while I’m staring intensely out the window seeking any cairn or roadside gravestone I might’ve previously missed. That’s how one day last summer I noticed this large stone next to Highway 75 heading north into Morris. We still didn’t stop, though, because we were zipping along the highway.
I must have technically “seen” this stone hundreds of times, yet the fact of its existence never registered in my brain until that one day. Every time after that, I couldn’t NOT see it. There it was, taunting me. WHAT DID IT SAY?
Usually when we drive by this spot, we are either in a hurry to get to some kind of West Reserve destination, whether it’s something historic like Neubergthal or something necessary like Boundary Trails Health Centre or to see family or to hike around Lake Minnewasta. OR we’re returning from whatever errand or adventure we’ve been on, and we’re tired and just wanna get home already.
So we’ve never actually stopped here. Until Andrew suddenly just DID. That made me so happy! At last I could read what this stone says!
Turns out it’s the Morris Grace Methodist Church Cemetery… and this cairn has been here since 1967!
Interestingly, if you misread the above plaque, you might interpret it to mean that it’s dedicated to “the early pioneers of 1967″. So look out! Ha.
(You might think I’m making a joke but I can easily imagine a kid misreading this to misunderstand that white Europeans arrived here in 1967 which obviously is super not the case.)
Anyway, what else does it say?
This cemetery was used from 1884 ’til 1920 and the cemetery took up two acres: “It is unknown how many people were buried here.”
I feel like probably much of this cemetery has been under cultivation for many decades already. Guess it’s a good thing those interred here are presumably six feet under.
It was a very cold windy spring day when we stopped here so I ran around taking frantic pictures of each stone. Here they are!
I think these are badger holes. Often you’ll find these holes in cemeteries. For me, it kind of reinforces the fact that yep, this is a cemetery, all right. The badgers know and it seems to be a favourite place for them to dig.
One last look at the cemetery before leaping back into the warm car where Andrew was patiently waiting for me.
Also next to the cemetery: this path. I wonder where it goes.
The only other time I’ve ever written about Morris: