I don’t know why I am drawn to cemeteries. Maybe it is because death has danced all around us, putting his hands on the waists of our loved ones. His footwork, rhythm and how he chooses his next partner leaves me with curiosity: “How did this person end up here? What is their story?”

My family and I decided to make a quick getaway to Idaho Springs, Colorado a few years ago. I never visited the municipality in Clear Creek County before, but as soon as we arrived, I became fascinated by the old town. A gust of dry winds whistled through the streets of a worn down down. Much like the setting in an old western movie, the buildings on each side of the street made up Main Street. Shopping boutiques, tourist traps, libraries and grocery stores occupied each building. Weak in their structures, rotting wood and rusty doors welcomed you. Just up the street a sign with faded letters read, “Idaho Springs Old Cemetery". Suddenly, the shops weren’t so interesting. I was lured in.

A neglected cemetery occupied the side of the mountains. As I traveled uphill, the most recent headstones were left behind with pink and yellow flowers, an American flag or some religious artifact. The others were decorated with decaying leaves and dirt. The smell of moss tickled my nose and as I walked alongside each headstone, the moist grass left a slight impression of my shoes.

My morbid curiosity spellbound me into finding the oldest headstone. I stopped at every marbled, granite, and wooden grave marker searching for names and dates that would give each soul who laid beneath me an identity. Date of birth and date of death ranged from the 1800’s to the 1900’s, to present time. Chilling memorial quotes read, “here lies son of…. Who left too soon.” Simultaneously, I found myself captivated and disturbed.

Although there is a long-standing assumption, among most people, that cemeteries are creepy and depressing, the environment is far more compelling than it is made out to be. In that moment, my trance led me to believe that I had become a taphophile, one who has a love for cemeteries, are driven by seeking their family roots, history and the unknown.

We will never know the secrets of the underground history book, but what is offered to us is a look into the past. That is the thing about cemeteries: whether we are left knowing or not, all of our lives end up finding their resting place in the Earth somehow. Visiting cemeteries focuses our attention on what really matters: that knowledge isn’t only acquired from our six feet above ground, but the six feet below us too.