yesterday we shot on location right up the street from my house at that graveyard I love.
me and one of the grips found ourselves standing on this family, the Clarks and we were intrigued about the story of these people.
I thought that the father drowned as well but when I looked at it just now I realized that it was the sons who had passed away by drowning (so sad) but on separate dates. how did this happen? what are the crazy chances of that? and the Mrs. Clark survived her husband by another thirty or so years!
ahh the unwritten stories of graveyards.
I find them so interesting.
somehow by reading the headstones I feel that we remember those long gone, even though they are strangers. i don’t find cemeteries morbid or scary. I find them peaceful.
