The Life in My Years

An anthology of life

The American West had a mind to be heartless; a place, a time and a life that didn’t discriminate when it came to the taking of life.

In life they lived hard and in death they repose in the hard land.

Once you step through the gates of the cemetery you enter a different world. It’s a stark place populated with monuments colored in doleful shades of gray, many cracked, broken and in varying stages of disrepair.

In the midst of the gaiety of Quebec City’s Rue St. Jean sits a historic old cemetery in the shadow of an old Anglican Church.

The shaggy rocker Rod Stewart told us in song that “every picture tells a story.” There are a myriad of stories to be found in Lafayette Cemetery but the pictures only tell a part of the story, just enough to wet the appetite. So, unlike the last post about Lafayette Cemetery which was mostly photos, we’re …

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A stark place where the monuments, in varying doleful shades of gray, some in disrepair showing, the age of more than a century, contrast with the fresh green hues of vegetation.

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