When I was ten years old I went to Marcy Open School in SE Minneapolis and we studied graveyards. Open schools are designed with no set curriculum so that students can have the freedom to follow their own passions. At ten my passions were Laura Ingall’s Wilder, pioneer life, and math.
Some kids were passionate about pottery and spent the year in the Pottery Shed making ashtrays and mugs. Some kids were passionate about machinery and spent weeks, or months, with Stan the carpenter in Hammer Hall. I remember one boy was passionate about a square skateboard that he rode unceasingly throughout the entire school, inside, everyday. Ruthie and Lisa were passionate about Marlboro’s and talking about boys. I was passionately scared of Ruthie and Lisa, but I wasn’t scared of graveyards.
We studied why people died and which epidemics went through Minnesota from the 1860’s – 1920’s and then we went out in search of those people whose lives were taken so abruptly. One wild weekend we camped in southern Minnesota in the oldest graveyard in the state looking for diphtheria victims. We found entire families taken out by disease and did rubbings of their gravestones. I didn’t think of it as weird – rather we were collecting stories of people that I wish I could know more about. I often thought, and still think, “Wouldn’t it be cool to have a little screen on the gravestone, push a button and see a video of that person’s life?”
My love of cemeteries traveled with me when I moved to Boston and I found myself spending many hours at Mt Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, MA. Evan and I had a date or two wondering around through the tombs, past the lake looking for birds, and up the tower to look out at the views of Boston across the Charles River. I remember visiting Mount Auburn Cemetery when I was 8 months pregnant scouring the grounds with my aunt and uncle, devoted botanists, in search of the prize winning beech trees.
Needless to say, here in Ketchum, Idaho we had to check out Hemingway’s grave and pay homage. First we stopped by The Community Library to see if we could get some background material on the man. The Community Library is a privately funded library and anyone can get a card. For those of us with no fixed address it is perfect. It also has provided us with a wonderful space for teaching school, has wifi throughout, and helpful librarians. Librarians. What wonderful people.
Side note: I was so proud of Josh when he mentioned his favorite store in Ketchum is The Gold Mine – a thrift store whose proceeds benefit The Community Library. Josh shares my view that the best thrift stores are in rich towns and if you need to buy something – why not buy it at a place that benefits a cause you believe in. Plus, we found a $10 waffle maker there!
In the library we found Sandra, the research librarian who gave an impromptu child friendly lecture on Hemingway in Ketchum. Next thing you know we are hearing about Hemingway’s son Jack who at the age of 8 ran up a $600 tab at the Sun Valley Lodge eating his way through the menu. We discussed famous writers and how just a mere speck of writers can actually make a living off of their passion. We discussed how writers in the 1930’s were as famous as rock stars are today and how Sun Valley, as a marketing ploy, enticed Hemingway to come to Sun Valley Lodge to write in exchange for them taking pictures of him enjoying himself. Room 206 is where he finished For Whom the Bell Tolls.
With books in hand we made our way 1 ½ miles down the road from the library to the graveyard. His grave is very plain. We stumbled on it because it was strewn with empty wine bottles, cigarettes, pens and pennies. We sat on the grave. We read from The Old Man and the Sea and speculated on relationships between old and young people, Cuba and the fishing trade. We added our own coins and wondered about who the people were who made pilgrimages to his grave.
Too bad we didn’t have a flask of whiskey to pour on his grave.
Some kids were passionate about pottery and spent the year in the Pottery Shed making ashtrays and mugs. Some kids were passionate about machinery and spent weeks, or months, with Stan the carpenter in Hammer Hall. I remember one boy was passionate about a square skateboard that he rode unceasingly throughout the entire school, inside, everyday. Ruthie and Lisa were passionate about Marlboro’s and talking about boys. I was passionately scared of Ruthie and Lisa, but I wasn’t scared of graveyards.
We studied why people died and which epidemics went through Minnesota from the 1860’s – 1920’s and then we went out in search of those people whose lives were taken so abruptly. One wild weekend we camped in southern Minnesota in the oldest graveyard in the state looking for diphtheria victims. We found entire families taken out by disease and did rubbings of their gravestones. I didn’t think of it as weird – rather we were collecting stories of people that I wish I could know more about. I often thought, and still think, “Wouldn’t it be cool to have a little screen on the gravestone, push a button and see a video of that person’s life?”
My love of cemeteries traveled with me when I moved to Boston and I found myself spending many hours at Mt Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, MA. Evan and I had a date or two wondering around through the tombs, past the lake looking for birds, and up the tower to look out at the views of Boston across the Charles River. I remember visiting Mount Auburn Cemetery when I was 8 months pregnant scouring the grounds with my aunt and uncle, devoted botanists, in search of the prize winning beech trees.
Needless to say, here in Ketchum, Idaho we had to check out Hemingway’s grave and pay homage. First we stopped by The Community Library to see if we could get some background material on the man. The Community Library is a privately funded library and anyone can get a card. For those of us with no fixed address it is perfect. It also has provided us with a wonderful space for teaching school, has wifi throughout, and helpful librarians. Librarians. What wonderful people.
Side note: I was so proud of Josh when he mentioned his favorite store in Ketchum is The Gold Mine – a thrift store whose proceeds benefit The Community Library. Josh shares my view that the best thrift stores are in rich towns and if you need to buy something – why not buy it at a place that benefits a cause you believe in. Plus, we found a $10 waffle maker there!
In the library we found Sandra, the research librarian who gave an impromptu child friendly lecture on Hemingway in Ketchum. Next thing you know we are hearing about Hemingway’s son Jack who at the age of 8 ran up a $600 tab at the Sun Valley Lodge eating his way through the menu. We discussed famous writers and how just a mere speck of writers can actually make a living off of their passion. We discussed how writers in the 1930’s were as famous as rock stars are today and how Sun Valley, as a marketing ploy, enticed Hemingway to come to Sun Valley Lodge to write in exchange for them taking pictures of him enjoying himself. Room 206 is where he finished For Whom the Bell Tolls.
With books in hand we made our way 1 ½ miles down the road from the library to the graveyard. His grave is very plain. We stumbled on it because it was strewn with empty wine bottles, cigarettes, pens and pennies. We sat on the grave. We read from The Old Man and the Sea and speculated on relationships between old and young people, Cuba and the fishing trade. We added our own coins and wondered about who the people were who made pilgrimages to his grave.
Too bad we didn’t have a flask of whiskey to pour on his grave.
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