Oregon daily emerald., July 26, 1977, Page 6, Image 6

Grateful dead rest
despite intrusions
of lively tricksters
Spirit of cemetery lingers on
A pair of students stroll hand in hand
down a grassy lane. Bugs buzz, and
daisies stick out. The woman acci
dently walked over Mrs. Ellen Kirby and
laughed.
Most University students take the
Pioneer Cemetery for granted. Somehow, it
seems only natural for a bunch of people to
be lying around dead between the library
and McArthur Court. But over the last 20
years, the cemetery’s presence on campus
has been far from assured.
In 1956, the University purchased rights
to the cemetery from the Odd Fellows Club,
which had been running the cemetery since
1872. “Four times the University tried to
condemn the cemetery as a public nuis
ance,” recalls John Quiner, a member of
the Pioneer Cemetery Lot Owners Associa
tion. "But not once did a resident of this
cemetery ever disturb the University.”
Story by Jock Hatfield
Photos by Eric Boekelheide
In 1969 the University attempted to take
over four sections of the cemetery for a
performing arts center and parking lot. But
the families of cemetery residents and plot
owners, who still legally owned their plots,
contested the move and temporarily won
their point. Three other times the University
made similar bids, and after a fight that
reached the Supreme Court, the University
won only the right to act as Cemetery Au
thority, sending in death certificates for new
cemetery residents.
Decreasing enrollment has caused a
slack in the demand for space, and the Uni
versity now plans to let the cemetery rest in
peace. “We have no plans at present,” says
W.N. McLaughlin, director of University
Business Affairs. “As long as the cemetery
is kept up, it’s fine. But right now it’s been
kept up by a volunteer crew of plot owners,
and those owners are dying off.”
Today the cemetery stretches out over
16 acres of shady, weed infested land, and
houses the last-ditch marble and granite
Page 6
attempts of 4,000 persons to make a name
for themselves. The cemetery is officially
designated as “non-perpetual” because
there is no general upkeep.
Only the old and dedicated, about seven
every year, are still buried on the grounds.
“I’m going to be buried with my parents right
over there,” says Quiner, pointing toward
the library. “Right at the end of this row.”
A $7 yearly fee paid by lot owners allows
the Lot Owners Association to run a mower
down the rows twice a year. But at present
most of the upkeep is carried on by volun
teer lot owners.
Quiner, a wrinkled man of about 60, vol
unteers much of his time to the weeding and
restoring of grave sites. ‘“If I stayed home I
would only be working in my garden any
way,” he says, moving among the graves.
He walked to an obscure portion of the
cemetery and pushed back a sticky weed.
"Here it is,” he says. “She was the first child
to be born in Eugene.” Edith B. Clinton
1856-1929 the tomb stone read in faded
rock. "See that red stone over there in the
Pennington lot? Red granite,” he says
pointing. “We were in the army together."
Quiner recalls with horror the death of a
graveyard in Reno. “They said they were
going to move it,” says Quiner. "But I went
there to watch. They had beautiful, large
stones, and were bulldozing them all into a
corner. The stones that were left over they
put flat out on the desert, on this small
square of land. No one goes near it” Quiner
feels the danger of such happening at the
Pioneer Cemetery is past, at least tem
porarily.
Ruth Homes, another member of the lot
owner’s association agrees. “The cemetery
is ecologically desireabie” she said.
“Botany classes go out there to study, and
other classes go out to do land surveys.”
Yet everything is not coming up roses.
“See the civil war monument?" says Quiner
indicating a 12-foot-high, eight-ton statue of
a Civil-War-looking man. "They tried to
push it over with a jeep. Other tombstones
have been painted with metallic green
paint. The monument of L. Allen used to
have a 200-pound-ball nestled at its apex.
That was before someone painted it black
with an "8” and then stole it entirely. "I can't
understand it,” says Quiner.
Last month 40 to 60 tomb stones were
tipped over in one night. Others have been
destroyed with a sledge hammer. One stu
dent, a woman named Nancy, has followed
the progress of the Hulin Graves. She
indicates a weirdly shaped object attached
to the top of the Hulin Monument. ‘‘That
thing has been all over campus,” she says.
“I’ve found it in all parts of the cemetery,
and once I found it while jogging by McAr
thur court. They finally cemented it on when
they planted that old guy,” she added point
ing to a fresh Hulin grave. Other students
prefer to lie peacefully on the graves and
relax, as did one unidentified student as
leep on top of the dead Mr. Bond.
Still others prefer simply to walk down the
weed-choked paths past occasional rusty
gates and tombs, under the Jefferson pines
and over the corpses that make up the
cemetery. Take a random path beneath the
trees. Weeds converge upon weeds. To the
right lie Woods and Hopei sleeping in
“Peace, perfect peace.” George Millican,
1834 to 1899, “Pioneer of 1852” lies under
your feet. Across the street McArthur Court
proclaims "Buy your Football tickets early.”
Move past the graves of Defoe and Renfro,
past broken off stubs of stones and plastic
flowers in plastic bowls to the cement
squares that cover the tomb of Straub, pro
viding an ironic link between a parking lot
and a grave.
Lie down on the soft grassy spot on top of
Ira L. Campbell. The sky is blue. Bugs buzz,
and daisies stick out. But Ira makes
you nervous. Church bells ring in the dis
tance “Ding, dong, ding dong ... Ding dong
ding dong: Bong, Bong, Bong."
“The lot owners are maintaining the
cemetery right now,” says Quiner, retracing
his steps through the weeds. “But we re
getting old, we re dying off.”
Tuesday. July 26. 1977