This was 1 of the 1st historic cemeteries I decided to visit, way back when, that was decidedly…read moreoutside my "comfort zone." PA was pretty much "alien territory" to me back then, and not a place I was inclined to make a "road trip" to, but Jayne Mansfield changed that for me.
At the risk of giving out TMI about myself-- when I hit adolescence, and the hormones started kicking in feverishly, there were only so many "girlie" magazines I could shoplift from the local luncheonette. At one point, I stole a book about Jayne from the local public library entitled "Jayne Mansfield and the American 50s" by Martha Saxton, fascinated by her blonde good looks and extremely voluptuous figure. Initially, I was more interested in the photo spread than I was in the text (I don't objectify women, and I'm not sexist or a misogynist, so let me re-iterate again...I was a geeky teen), but I eventually became interested in her story and read the book in spite of myself. The NJ connection in Jayne's past was intriguing although...at that point...I had no idea where Phillipsburg was. But when I went to Hollywood, CA, as a young adult and visited Hollywood Memorial Cemetery (now Hollywood Forever), I found a grave marker for Jayne. However, I was chagrined to learn that she's not actually buried there, that it's a sort of "memorial stone" erected by fans. The actual burial site is in Pen Argyl, PA, which I had never heard of.
Back in NJ, I consulted a map, and learned that it really wasn't all that far from where I lived. So, I filled my tank with gas, grabbed my camera and map, and headed out on Rt 78 W. like the intrepid explorer I imagined myself to be. I passed through Easton (and discovered Quadrant Books, which I recommend), headed up on Rt. 33 through the Lehigh Valley's pastoral and surprisingly affecting beauty (the Lehigh Valley isn't New England or upstate NY...regions which have been my ideal of magnificent natural beauty and spiritual renewal since my childhood days...but...objectively...the Lehigh Valley and the Poconos are beautiful areas). I exited at Wind Gap and followed 512 into Pen Argyl. Unsure of where the cemetery was, I stopped in a Turkey Hill store, and was told to make the next right, continue up the road past the park on the left, and the cemetery would be on my right.
And so it was. A pretty, sedate country cemetery with majestic mountains framing the horizon, and Jayne's enormous white heart-shaped marble tombstone impossible to miss in the approx. center of the relatively small cemetery. Adorned with flowers and souvenirs, emblazoned on the bottom of it were the words, "We Live To Love You More Each Day." With respect, I took my photos, and decided to explore the rest of the cemetery. In one portion under the shelter of some trees were the worn and age-old slate tombstones (the area is known as the "Slate Belt") of Italian immigrants (my assumption would be that they were miners, but I'm really not sure of that; I know the nearby town of Roseto has a large Italian population). Some family names on other tombstones were interesting (there are a lot of "Bonney's"...relatives of Billy the Kid? Probably not...). Most appealing, though, were the mountains that stretched up in the distance. Truly awe inspiring. Fairview is a quietly picturesque, peaceful final resting place for the area's residents, and that goes well beyond the glamour/celebrity allure of Jayne's gravesite.
I came out to visit a few times since that initial sojourn. One time with a friend interested in seeing Jayne's gravesite, and one time when I was in a bad relationship, and just wanted to kind of "space out" in the tranquility of a setting that wasn't all that familiar to me but was relatively close at hand. And it was, suprisingly, a restorative process, although I didn't linger too long (there's a house close by the cemetery, and I didn't want anyone to think I was an obsessed "Jayne fan." I guess you could say I was a fan, but not an obsessed one). Self-reflecting and reflecting in general while lingering on this sacred ground which memorializes those who have lived and died, celebrity and average citizen alike, memorializes those who have passed into that great eternity into which all of us must ultimately pass into, the pettiness of a "bad relationship" becomes pretty petty indeed.
Hopefully, I don't come across as trivializing the overall purpose of cemeteries. For those who have directly suffered loss and tragedy and pain, they're places to mourn, to remember, to appreciate the mystery and majesty of life and death, to hopefully transcend and reach a place of peace with the present and a hope for the future. For others (like me), they're a connection to the past, to history, to the rhythm of life and death that flows on and on like an eternal river, running from the known past into an unknown (but hoped for) future. It encompasses all of us. Death is truly the great equalizer.
I hope to revisit it again someday.