Today's Mostly True Story: A Walk in a Graveyard

Words and photo by F LoBuono

Cynthia and I got to the restaurant for our family Easter lunch about a half-hour early. It was reasonably mild for an early Spring day so we decided to walk into town to kill the extra time. Having both grown up in the general area, we were somewhat familiar with the place, Dumont, NJ, but not very. I remember playing football and baseball against them when I was in high school but, beyond that, I had no real experience in the village itself. What I did remember was confirmed as soon as we started walking - Dumont is a nice, clean, working class, New Jersey town. However, one thing that did strike me was that it is also very old. In walking towards the town center, we noticed a number of historical signs that explained Dumont was settled in the early part of the 17th Century and was originally named after one its settling Dutch families, Schraalenburg.

The Old North Chruch

At the corner of what appeared to be the heart of town stood an old brick, Dutch Colonial church. Known as the Old North Church, the cornerstone is written in the original Dutch and gives the names of the its founders and the date the congregation first met, 1723. It also indicated that the current church has stood there since 1801. Of course, as is the case with most old churches, a graveyard containing the worldly remains of some of the original congregants was located on the church grounds. We decided to explore it.

There must have been about 50 gravestones, the majority of them showing their advanced age and in extreme disrepair. Most of the markers were dated to the early 19th Century and the earliest days of the church. The latest date that we could find on a stone was 1908. The names were mostly Dutch and English but, surprisingly, some had Eastern European spellings. Some of the names would be familiar to anyone from this part of the Country as they belong to some of the areas earliest settling families like Demarest and Voorhees.

Some people might find exploring graveyards a bit morbid. However, Cynthia and I most certainly do not. They can tell us so much about our past and how people not only died, but how they LIVED. So, we walked excitedly from gravestone to gravestone taking notice of not only the names of the people but when they were born and died. Some died in infancy. Others, much to our surprise, lived to ripe old age. We found one grave marker of a woman who was 99 years-old, certainly a rarity for that era!

We talked excitedly but quietly about what we saw. We had reverence for where we what and what it meant. The stones may have been broken and worn but each one represented a human being and we were well aware of that. We were cognizant of the fact that we were walking on the memories, if not the very bones, of those who were bold enough to pave the way for the rest of us. Instead of "freaking us out", it was kind of comforting to know that. And, the fact that it was Easter Sunday, with its promise of immortality, made the feeling all that more poignant.

After 15-20 minutes or so, it was time to go. We bid our farewells and walked hand-in-hand to the restaurant where it had a wonderful lunch with family. Life continues . . .