Cemetery Fringe

© Google Maps

© Google Maps



Sometimes he walked along the edge of the cemetery, looking up over the black iron fence. The tombstones entrenched in the hillside looked back like indifferent sentries. Their mute, unchanging presence had a powerful effect on the surrounding streets and the rare passersby.





Another side of Green-Wood bordered a sprawling train yard, contiguous with the Jackie Gleason Bus Depot. That edge was a no-man’s land. One time he walked the road between the two complexes—nearly a mile with no outlet, just tombstones behind one fence and transit gear behind another. He looked askance at the few cars that went by, and felt uneasy just thinking about what it must have been like at night.

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