St Patrick’s (or Hibernia) Cemetery
Jaysus, this Irish lass had never been to Hibernia, NJ, even though it’s only 15 minutes from her home! She will now stop typing in third-person brogue.
Moving on … Nothing will get me walking through forests of poison ivy wearing only sandals and a dress like a cemetery will. Just like nothing else had brought me to Hibernia. Including, as I saw on the way, the headquarters of Party City. Mind you, the headquarters of Party City looked pretty depressing. But with my faithful companion, Adam McGovern, by my side, we blazed a trail to the cemetery, starting accidentally through someone’s backyard, then up an enormous hill where no one can hear you pant and the GPS doesn’t work.
Yes, death abounds on the way to St Patrick’s Cemetery. Per findagrave.com, “Established in 1869, this cemetery … is near the old Hibernia iron mines and many of the miners are doubtless buried here. It requires a hike up a steep trail from Green Pond Rd and Lower Hibernia Rd. or a hike in from Upper Hibernia Rd. the end of which is closed. The hike up from Green Pond Rd. passes the old mine shaft which is a protected area for bats.”
Adam and I hiked the path which missed the bats which was ok with me because rabies.
This Blair Witch-looking thing let us know we were on the right track, because my iPhone X certainly didn’t. If it had been nighttime I would’ve run home. This is known as a cairn, defined as “a mound of rough stones built as a memorial or landmark, typically on a hilltop or skyline.” Or it’s also “a small terrier of a breed with short legs, a longish body, and a shaggy coat.”
Here’s another one:
We then saw this sign. Again: If nighttime, me running.
Following the sign we turned left and saw what we’d come for. Dare we?
The lettering on the cemetery sign reminded me of something I couldn’t put my finger on until we were leaving:
If you’re old enough to know what this is, you’re old enough.
This deer put me at ease, because if a deer is here, what could go wrong? Thanks for being here, Bambi, now don’t eat my hosta.
This the first grave I saw, which seemed rather opulent given the surroundings. It’s for John Heslin, his wife Catharine, and his second wife, Mary (reminiscent of the two Rebeccas from Vail Memorial Cemetery). The design is in keeping with the Victorian look, yet the IHS on top tells me it’s probably Catholic. IHS is often used as an abbreviation for “Jesus” in Greek - “ΙΗΣΟΥΣ."
What does one have to do with the other? People buried in the Victorian Era who had money tended to be Protestants who wanted to move away from Catholic iconography, including crucifixes (even crosses) and kind of anything Jesus, ironically.
St Patrick’s Cemetery was connected to St Patrick’s Catholic Church, which burned down in 1910 and was never rebuilt. These graves indeed did belong to the miners (and their families), who worked nearby for the New Jersey Iron Mining Company—now the “abandoned mine shaft that’s a protected area for bats.” At first the miners were mostly Irish immigrants, but they were eventually joined by the English and Scots.
But then I saw names like Zeliska …
And Kral …
And Musak! Using the awesome powers of Google Translate, I learned these people were mostly Slovak, specifically Catholic Slovaks who joined the Irish immigrants working in the mines of Hibernia.
Some of the Slovak graves had these kind of adornments.
Some had these.
This tree with poles through it marked one corner of the cemetery. Remember Katherine Helmond’s facelift in Brazil? That’s what it reminded me of. If you’re old enough to know what I mean, you’re old enough.
I don’t know whose resting place is, but the cross is fitting.
Over the years the cemetery has been brutalized and headstones dismantled and stolen. Once a headstone is knocked off its pedestal, it’s tremendously difficult to right it because of its weight. Also, the grounds had become overgrown, threatening to turn this into a forsaken cemetery. An unloved cemetery is a sad thing, indeed.
In 2017 the Friendly Sons of St Patrick of Morris County gathered together to clean things up. Former president Mike Bannon said in the Daily Record that “Hibernia and Mount Hope, were the two main mining centers in Northwestern New Jersey.” [Look at all these Irishmen! I’m probably related to a few. BTW photo courtesy Mike Bannon.] According to Bannon, “That iron ore was one of the richest concentrations of iron in the world. There’s still lots of it in there but it’s so deep and it’s too expensive to dig it out.”
Other organizations (I believe the Boy Scouts?) have placed wooden white crosses at spots where headstones used to be, but even those have been stolen or tossed aside.
“‘The first I was able to find mining that occurred in Hibernia in Morris County was in 1722,’ Bannon said. ‘The mines supplied some munitions for the Continental Army for George Washington …The iron was also used for the Industrial Revolution, bridges and skyscrapers and equipment … In the mid and late 1800s and early 1900s, that iron was used to build the United States.’”
As of August 2020, the grounds were becoming overgrown again. For someone who gets hideous cases of poison ivy (last year’s even scared the Minute Clinic guy at CVS) this was a bridge too far. I still have a heck of a time figuring out what it looks like —I know the whole leaves of three thing, but dammit they ALL look like leaves of three. So it was time to turn back.
As we left I remarked that during a pandemic, a cemetery is one of the safer places to be. I hope that St Patrick’s Cemetery does not get lost again and that the wide open spaces will allow for enough social distancing to maintain the grounds. Maybe I should call Mike Bannon?
Also we raced back (well, walked quickly, there was quite a slope and again, sandals) to make sure our car wasn’t towed. By the luck of the Irish it was still there.