From the Hartford Daily Courant, 13 June 1862:
“The cemeteries of Hartford are numerous, and each possesses peculiar features. First in time is the old ground back of the Center Church where the dead of two centuries agone repose undisturbed. Next in time, we suppose, is the burying ground on the New Haven turnpike road, where the southenders were long wont to deposit their dead. Next is the old North Burying Ground. Next is the Zion’s Hill Cemetery, where on top of the hill, us one of the best views a stranger can take of the city of Hartford. Next comes Spring Grove Cemetery, which is filling up with portentons [sic] rapidity. At this season of the year a large number of men are busy cutting the grass and trimming the shrubs, and hedges of the enclosures in these cemeteries, and, as most of them are daily visited by hundreds of our citizens, neglect tells its own story in very palpable language, and unfavorable inferences are liable to be drawn, in many cases no doubt most unjustly, to the prejudice of surviving friends.”
The sites showing neglect are those with no regular visitors. In a city where so many moved up and out, coming back to visit the cemetery only once or twice a year, is it any surprise that neglect opens up opportunities for worse? They said it with nicer words, and were careful not to judge, but it’s not rocket science. It wasn’t in 1862 and it isn’t in 2020.
But was there a time when Zion Hill Cemetery was tidy, with its monuments respected?
A letter to “Mr. Editor” in 1851 painted the “new and beautiful” cemetery with a rosier hue: “Give us a place of retirement. Let the Cemetery ever be a secluded spot, where those meditations which make us wiser and better may be undisturbed by noisy vehicles upon a contiguous thoroughfare, with their accompanying clouds of dust. . . . The selection of this spot as a place of sepulture, is of recent date, but it is I think destined to become one of the most beautiful in New England.” The letter was signed with a simple ‘W.’, and one wonders if this assessment is accurate or a bit overstated. Who was W. and was there anything for him to gain by gushing about a park for the dead?
Thirteen years after that glowing letter receives publication by the Hartford Daily Courant, does the newspaper begin reporting something beyond the general appearance of neglect that comes from those who cease to visit loved one’s graves with any regularity.
Here, the problem is identified as cemeteries — Zion’s Hill and Spring Grove — having “proximity to the center of the city,” though nothing was said of Ancient Burying Ground (circa 1648) or Old South (in use since 1773) in this respect. This writer claimed that being near so many people led to the graveyards “being overrun by the unrestrained intrusion at all hours of such rude and vulgar persons as are too common in all cities, who delight to trample upon and destroy what the refined and tender-hearted have gathered about the sacred ashes of the dead.”
Their solution? Only one was named: add walls and gates.
Alas, the walls and gates — and in modern times, a police substation directly across from the grounds — have done little to thwart those set on an evening of wanton destruction, typically fueled by alcohol.
It is 100% false that Zion’s Hill Cemetery (now Zion Hill Cemetery) has always been well cared for.
In 1870, a fire at the graveyard was attributed to vandalism.
Either negative activity or the reporting of such picked up in the twentieth century, and has not stopped since.
During a Memorial Day event in 1905, a man was arrested for drunkenness and vagrancy following what the Hartford Courant described as “making himself unpleasant during the decorating of veterans’ graves.” While unclear if this unpleasantness involved destruction, loudness, or lewdness, one can not in honesty portray Zion Hill Cemetery as a spot that has been entirely respected.
The following year, the fuss was over flowers being taken off graves. The complaints of this reached city council, who seemed to have little interest in going hard on the offenders. Then, two women, separately, were busted in the act. One described in the paper as “an old woman” used her age to talk her way out of arrest, and was sent on her way after being “severely reprimanded.” The second was also let go without charges, with the Courant writing “It was found the [she] had an industrious, sober husband, who knew nothing of his wife’s misdemeanors, and [said] that if it became known, her home would be broken up.”
A few years later, another chronic plant theft was reported. This time, the flowers were dug up and replaced with cut flowers, described as being a downgrade from those stolen. Here, it was suspected that the ex-wife of the man planting said flowers was the culprit, being bitter about something or other.
A little vegetation theft might seem like nothing when compared to the overturning of headstones, and I would argue that the disregard for the feelings of survivors exists on a continuum.
In 1914, there was a grass fire at the graveyard, followed by a separate incident involving the toppling of a six-foot tall family monument. The latter was described by the Courant as “either an unusual act of vandalism or a piece of mischief on the part of boys”
What stirred up people in 1915 enough that 70 cemetery plot owners signed a petition asking for a fence? The Courant reported that Zion Hill had been a “favorite gathering place for drunken men and of vagabonds of various sorts at night.”
Congregation Ados Israel, which operated its own cemetery within Zion Hill Cemetery — it’s confusing, so more on that later — actually had already installed its own fence by the close of 1881. Somehow, this cemetery-inside-a-cemetery was able to begin construction on a two-story building before the superintendent of parks had any idea about it, which speaks volumes.
Things settled down during the war, but in 1922, a flower thief struck again, taking decorations off soldiers’ graves on Memorial Day.
All was quiet, or at the least, not making its way to the newspapers, until 1950. Negative activity at Frog Hollow’s cemetery has gotten plenty of ink since.
Remember the 1950s, when everything was Leave It To Beaver and dinner around the table and wholesome fun and sock hops? Yeah, well…
Eleven youths ranging from age eleven to seventeen were arrested in October 1950 when 55 glass panes were smashed at Zion Hill. Two years later, four teens — age 15 to 19 — were arrested for overturning nineteen tombstones, several of which were smashed. Empty wine bottles were found at the scene. The vandals were given community service for two hours every day after school (for an unannounced length of time) which consisted of raking leaves, shoveling snow, and taking care of other tasks at the cemetery. It seems that this alone did not reform all those youths, with at least one making headlines for a second arrest just a few years later.
What’s interesting is that the coverage of this major act of vandalism alluded to the knocking over of three headstones not long before, yet that received no news coverage of its own. This suggests that stones, a few at a time, were likely to have been damaged over the years with no attention.
Also in the 1950s, six men were arrested for fighting in the cemetery, and at least one person was irritated enough by the unmown grass on Memorial Day to write a letter to the editor about it.
Was that it? No.
Thirty headstones were toppled at Zion Hill in 1964. Three years later, 130 were counted as being knocked over. The caretaker was quoted in the paper as saying that the situation “was similar to damage found there two years ago after a football game between Trinity and Wesleyan.” Empty beer cans and broken bottles of booze were found among the mess.
In 1973, a woman left her purse on the seat of her car and returned to find it stolen. Later that year, the cemetery would be the site of a rape. A woman accepted a ride home from the bar from a man, and instead of dropping her off, took her to Zion Hill and assaulted her.
The most frequent crime here, though, seems to be vandalism of stones. Over 100 were toppled in 1974. This discovery was made by those visiting during the High Holy Days. Teen males were again blamed. In nearly every case, this type of vandalism was blamed on run-of-the-mill — usually alcohol-fueled — mischief, rather than malice. Even the 2016 vandalism appears to be standard nonsense, rather than driven by antisemitism.
Twenty more stones were pushed over in 1975, and just in time for the bicentennial, an unnamed number of stones were wrecked. Another 22 would be toppled in 1978.
This whole time, by the way, those tasked with maintenance gave several verbal shrugs when asked how this crime could be prevented. They acknowledged that the crime happened at night.
As if wanton destruction were a competition, 200 stones were knocked down in October 1979. The door to a mausoleum was kicked in and those guilty had a party inside, leaving empty bottles and food as evidence. The city employee questioned by the paper essentially admitted that this was all beyond management. Every time one group of stones would be fixed, another would get trashed. Again, he said “it has been a problem right along” and he was unsure what could be done to stop it.
It goes on and on, but by the early 1980s, at least one family was publicly disinterring the remains of several adults and stillborn infants, transferring them to a private cemetery elsewhere.
What is the point?
For one, we have to dispel the notion that there was a time when Zion Hill Cemetery had been respected and pristine. If that time existed, it seems to have been only in the earliest days of operation. At least 342 headstones were reported vandalized in the 1970s. Compare that to the 145 from 2000 through the end of 2019. Knowing this, it is disingenuous for anyone to act like the ongoing (and disgusting) treatment of headstones at Zion Hill is a recent phenomena, even with those cases that are not reported to the papers.
What can be done?
In some cases, those buried in Zion Hill likely have no family members remaining in the area. That is a problem, as noted in 1862. The plots that do not get visited regularly will get shabby, and if something goes awry, might go unnoticed for some time.
But that is also why we have caretakers, to keep a resting place looking dignified when the deceased’s survivors have all moved away or moved on.
The other part of this, though, is the complicated nature of this cemetery. Zion Hill Cemetery, proper, is a city cemetery. But within this footprint operates many others, and it’s not entirely clear even when looking at a map which are independently managed and which fall within the Association of Jewish Cemeteries of Greater Hartford; however, in the mix: Congregation Beth Israel, Congregation Ados Israel, Agudas Achim, All Jews Cemetery, Capital City Lodge, Dreyfus Lodge, Hartford City Lodge, Hartford Hebrew Benevolent, Hartford Sick Benefit, Moses Montefiore, Share Torah, and a potter’s field. The names on the City of Hartford map do not align completely with those listed by the Association of Jewish Cemeteries, which no doubt adds and extra layer of confusion. Then, there is the question of how engaged these entities are, year-round? Are they making weekly or monthly visits? I don’t have the answer for this, but what I can say is that as a neighborhood resident who sometimes walks through the graveyard, I have encountered other people in the cemetery only twice, and one of those two was a guy mowing the lawn. Compare that to how on any given visit to Cedar Hill Cemetery, I will encounter at least a dozen people, excluding maintenance workers.
In 2015 and 2016 there was a momentary Zion Hill Cemetery master plan effort, which seems to have gone nowhere fast.
