For a few years in the 1990s, a reporter named Carl Lazenby worked in the newsroom. He was a sharp, entertaining older guy whose wife Nancy had grown up in McComb. I think they met in Washington, D.C. and then moved down here.
For a while, probably once a month, Carl wrote extensive stories about local cemeteries, with lots of photos. And in the newsroom, all of us younger people would roll our eyes and ask, “Carl, another story about a cemetery?”
But he was on to something, specifically that a lot of older people are interested in cemeteries. They’re close to taking up residence in one. A cemetery is sort of like a genealogy report. And the stories of why things happened usually are interesting.
One time, after one of Carl’s stories, I was on the phone with Thad Leggett, the county court and youth court judge. Before we started talking about whatever I called him about, he effusively praised the latest cemetery story.
He went on and on about how interesting all the local cemeteries are, and I can recall thinking, “If you say so.”
Well, now it’s my turn. I’m older (62) and I have noticed how much more interesting cemeteries have become in the last few years.
This has coincided with a growing interest in my family history. I have found a great-grandfather, an Acadian transplant to Louisiana, who was in the Confederate Army; and in one of the old census reports I learned that a great-grandmother on my mother’s side was the child of parents from Bavaria.
All this ties in with my decision one recent weekend to go to the McComb High School track for some exercise after nearly a year’s absence. I looked forward to seeing the new track surface, put down a few months ago, for the first time.
Sorry, not today. The entrance to the track by the Business & Technology Center parking lot was closed. I guess the school wants to protect its six-figure track. They removed the revolving gate that had been there for decades and replaced it with two tall fence gates that were padlocked.
I seriously thought about climbing the new gates, but decided that’s not how people my age avoid needless and embarrassing injuries.
Not to worry! Whenever the high school track used to be shut down, my backup plan always was nearby Hollywood Cemetery, and I was glad to go there again.
I had not been through the cemetery in a while, so it was fun to stroll around. It would be nice to say that I walked at a brisk, energetic pace. But the truth is that I spent half the time wandering among headstones, looking at names and the years of births and deaths.
For a decade, my favorite part of the cemetery has been the newest section, the hill on the west end near the water tower. That’s surely because I knew so many of the people who are buried there.
This section is filling up quickly. It seemed to have a lot more markers than just a couple of years ago.
My first stop was at the grave of Alice Perkins, the longtime business manager at the newspaper. Alice Earle always was proud of two things: her kids and her job.
She used to remind everybody that we were “the flagship of the company,” and I can put that in quotes because it’s exactly what she used to say.
She retired in 2004 and died in 2011. I miss her, but I’m glad she is not watching the business change so dramatically.
There were a number of others to see as well. Ronnie and Susan Kraft, our next-door neighbors for 30 years. Charlie and Kathy Stringer, who lived across the street from the Krafts. Charlie just passed away a year ago. My wife’s aunt and uncle, Rhoda and Clifton Clark. Norman Gillis Jr. and his wife. And plenty more.
After that, I walked over to one of the cemetery roads and actually got some exercise, stopping every so often to look at something interesting.
There are plenty more stories in that cemetery, and if the high school track stays locked, maybe I’ll find them.
I’m becoming Carl Lazenby! Who would have thought?
