The Best Grave in the Place
IT WAS A QUIET COUNTRY PARISH, THE BIG GREY CHURCH STOOD ON THE HILL SIDE, WITHIN THE STONE BOUNDARY WALL OF THE CHURCH WAS SITUATED THE CEMETERY. A COLD PLACE WHEN THE NORTH OR EAST WIND WAS BLOWING AS OFTEN WAS THE CASE WHEN A BURIAL WAS TAKING PLACE. THERE WERE NOT MANY GRAVE STONES ON THE PLOTS, A SHORT ROW OF ALMOST IDENTICAL CELTIC CROSSES MARKED THE LAST RESTING PLACES OF FORMER PARISH PRIESTS.
IN ITS EARLY YEARS IT WAS A POOR PARISH YOU SEE, MANY OF THE DEAD LAY UNDER THE SOD UNMARKED. THERE WAS NO PLOT MAPS FOR THE GRAVEYARD. WHEN THE PEOPLE DIED, ALWAYS THEIR FAMILIES CAME TO OLD TOM’S HOUSE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL AND BROUGHT HIM TO THE CHURCH YARD WITH THEM TO POINT OUT THE FAMILY GRAVE. TOM WOULD TALK WITH THEM AND GLORIFIED IN HIS INFALLIBILITY REGARDING HIS KNOWLEDGE OF THE GRAVEYARD. IT WOULD NOT BE TRUE, ALTOGETHER, TO SAY THAT HE WAS GLAD WHEN A DEATH IN THE PARISH BROUGHT THE GRAVE SEELKER TO HIS DOOR, BUT HE WAS GLAD NEVERTHELESS TO DROP WHAT HE WAS DOING AND PUT ON HIS COAT AND CAP AND GO OUT AT ANY TIME TO POINT OUT THE REQUIRED LAST RESTING PLACE WHERE THE GRAVE SHOULD BE DUG.
OLD TOM WOULD GET OUT OF THE CAR AT THE CHURCH YARD GATE AND WALK STRIAGHT AS A DIE TO THE FAMILY PLOT NO MATTER WHERE IT WAS. HE HIMSELF WAS NO LONGER YOUNG, HIS BRAIN HAD MARKED THE BURIALS FOR OVER A HALF A CENTUARY, ALWAYS WITHOUT ERROR..
“YOUR GRAVE IS HERE”, HE WOULD TELL THE FAMILY AND HE WOULD GOUGE THE SOD WITH HIS HEEL. “JUST AT THIS SPOT HERE, THE GAVIGANS ARE ON THIS SIDE. THE O’NEILL’S ARE HERE. PAT JONES FAMILY IS OVER THERE AND OLD MULDOON AND THE WIFE ARE OVER HERE.” HE KNEW EVERY GRAVE AND THE DATES OF THE LAST BURIAL IN THE PLOT, AND ANYTHING UNUSUAL ABOUT THE FUNERAL. THE YANKEE O’DONNELL WAS PUT DOWN THERE IN 1950. “DO YOU REMEMBER HIM? HE WAS SIX FEET TALL BAR AN INCH AND THEY HAD TO GET A SPECIAL COFFIN FROM BELFAST FOR HIM. PINE IT WAS AND IT TOOK SIX MEN TO CARRY HIM. HE WAS A GREAT SIZE AND NEAR ENOUGH THE LAST OF HIS BREED”.
IF A NEW PLOT WAS NEEDED FOR A FAMILY THAT HAD MOVED INTO THE PARISH, TOM WOULD TAKE THEM TO ONE OF THE VACENT SPACES IN THE GRAVEYARD AND HELP TO CHOOSE A PLOT FOR THE BEREAVED SON WHO WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE FUNERAL. WHEN THE CHOICE WAS FINALISED, TOM WOULD SAY EVERY TIME WITHOUT FAIL, “YOU HAVE GOT THE BEST PLOT IN THE GRAVEYARD.” HE WOULD ADVISE ON WHICH NEIGHBOURS WOULD BE THE PROPER MEN TO DIG THE GRAVE. HE KNEW THE LENGTH IT SHOULD BE, HOW DEEP IT SHOULD BE AND HOW MANY GRAVES THAT THE PLOT SHOULD HOLD.
HE WOULD POINT TO THE TREE THAT STOOD IN THE LOWER CORNER OF THE GRAVEYARD SAYING, “ DO YOU KNOW WHO IS UNDER THAT TREE? THAT IS WHERE THE YOUNG VOLUNTEER THAT WAS FOUND LYING DEAD IN THE SHOUGH IN 1922 IS BURIED, YOU KNOW, NO COFFIN AT ALL. A WILD NIGHT IT WAS. THEY DIDN’T WANT TO TELL ANYBODY ABOUT IT AND THEY NEVER KNEW WHO HE WAS, BUT THEY THOUGHT IT BETTER TO BURY HIM HERE IN THE HOLY GROUND RATHER THAN HAVE THE TANS KICKING HIS CORPSE AROUND THE ROAD.”
HE AWLAYS TALKED ABOUT THE VOLUNTEER. “I WAS THERE MYSELF FOR THE BURYING. WE ONLY HAD TWO CARBIDE LAMPS AND THERE WERE LOOKOUTS ALL OVER THE PLACE. WE COULDN’T LEAVE ANY SIGN OF A GRAVE EITHER, SO WE LIFTED THE SOD IN ONE PIECE AND LEFT IT BACK THE SAME WAY AND EVERY MAN THERE BROUGHT A BIG BAG OF CLAY AWAY WITH HIM AND SCATTERED IT ALONG THE WAY ON HIS JOURNEY HOME. WE NEVER FOUND OUT WHO HE WAS THOUGH OR WHERE HE CAME FROM, THE POOR LAD, HE GOT THE BEST GRAVE IN THE PLACE, DRY AND SHELTERED WITH THE TREE OVER IT.”
IF A STRANGER DIED IN THE DISTRICT, NO MATTER WHERE HE CAME FROM TOM WOULD FIND A PLACE FOR HIM IN THE GRAVEYARD. THE PARISH TOOK OLD TOM’S KNOWLEDGE FOR GRANTED. DIDN’T THINK TOO MUCH ABOUT IT. HE ALWAYS GOT A DRINK OR TWO FROM THE BEREAVED FAMILY OF COURSE, AND WAS PROFOUNDLY THANKED FOR HIS AID. IT WAS ALL HE WANTED. HE DIED HIMSELF LAST THURSDAY NIGHT, VERY SUDDENLY. HIS NIECE CAME ACROSS FROM BELFAST, SHE WAS THE NEAREST FAMILY THAT HE HAD AND SHE ASKED WHERE HE WOULD BE BURIED. NOBODY KNEW. HIS FRIENDS SEARCHED ALL AROUND THE GRAVEYARD NOT SURE WHAT THEY WERE LOOKING FOR. THERE WERE SERIOUS DISCUSSIONS WITH THE CANON, BUT THERE WAS NO PLOT MAN FOR THE GRAVEYARD. IT HAD ALL BEEN INSIDE OLD TOM’S HEAD, WITH HIM GONE THERE WAS NOBODY WITH THE KNOWLEDGE NOW.
IN THE END THEY DID THE BEST THEY COULD. THEY BURIED HIM IN WHAT HE HAD ALWAYS DESCRIBED AS THE BEST GRAVE IN THE PLACE, DRY AND SHELTERED AND WITH A TREE OVER IT. THEY BURIED HIM WITH THE VOLUNTEER WITH NO NAME. IT SEEMED THE BEST THING TO DO. DURING THE FUNERAL THE WIND BLEW FROM THE EAST AND THE DEAD BELL PEALED ITS LAST MESSAGE FOR OLD TOM BUT WHAT WILL THEY DO NEXT TIME WHEN ANOTHER PERSON DIES?