A First

Something I’ve always wanted to do, but never really got the chance, was to visit the Westminster Hall and Burying Ground where Edgar Allan Poe is interred. I’ve passed by the cemetery more times than I can count, but never paid my respects until yesterday, on Poe’s birthday. This was all impromptu.

I read articles year after year of an anonymous visitor, known as the "Poe Toaster" who paid annual tribute to this iconic American author by visiting his grave in the early hours on his birthday. This mysterious person left three roses and a partially filled bottle of French cognac before disappearing like a thief in the night.

It was noon, and after reading yet another article about this special honor to Poe, I immediately stopped what I was doing to get dressed and was out the door in a matter of 10 minutes. There was no second-guessing this endeavor. From home to Westminster Hall, to the Poe House & Museum (which was, unfortunately, closed for renovation) and back home, I hiked through the city for approximately 10 miles.

On my trek to Westminster Hall I utilized alleyways only - dark, dank and dreary as many were, and you would be surprised by what I saw (I’ll leave you guessing). This is not something I would normally do, but I like to change things up a bit now and then, and I was going to visit the great Edgar Allan Poe, thus my interest in adding a bit of mystery, and yes, a tad of creepiness to the mix. This was probably not a wise thing to do, but I do know the city well and its limitations, as well as my own, and I did have a few friends on speed dial in case distress entered my life. Hey! I lived to tell the tale. Didn’t I?!

I can’t believe I overlooked Westminster Hall all these years. What an incredible place of allurement, especially when you consider the history. This sacred burial ground served Presbyterians of the socially and economically elite, and I was impressed by the number of important and influential people laid to rest: politicians, effective merchants, veterans of the American Revolutionary War and that of 1812, statesmen and countless others.

The most intriguing aspect of this experience was the catacombs, which I briefly got to see, but will need to schedule a tour to relish in its grandeur. I’m not sure if you would describe anything as both beautiful and macabre, but this is exactly how I would characterize my brief encounter with this special site.

What I do know is after this somber fascination with reflective splendor, walking the hallowed grounds, learning its history and that of a people from centuries long ago, I could close my eyes and picture what is was like back then, if only for a brief moment. To see the modern world built up around this structure just blows my mind and leaves me speechless. It reinforces what we can’t escape - time, and it stopping for no one.

Much to my surprise, a friend of mine I haven’t seen in years was there too, but for different reasons. He was having some head-shots taken with the backdrop of Poe’s grave for his upcoming new television show, History in the Hood, which explores history in the city that many of us overlook. (Scott, it was wonderful seeing you. I am sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye, but we will definitely get together soon for cocktails and conversation. There is much to talk about, friend.)

My adventure was soon coming to a close, but not before noticing others ushering into the graveyard to visit Poe’s grave. It was nonstop throughout, with many leaving tokens of affection (letters, cards, envelopes, poems, spirits, and roses). I couldn’t help but open one of the envelopes, which revealed several red rose petals and an inscription). This reverence I find remarkably angelic, especially for a man shrouded in mystery.

Poe was remarkable in every sense of the word, and without a doubt a brilliant writer. There are many ways to describe him: woeful, nebulous, intriguing, metaphorical, and troubled, and yet he managed to escape into a world of words that often seem dark but linger in my mind with creative beauty. It’s clear he was definitely plagued by fear and death.

I just pulled his book off the shelf and will read a few of my favorites aloud as I lay in bed. I will ponder their meaning and contemplate the possibilities, and be thankful for the pleasure that is all mine. Here’s to Poe! – paerki

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