Tonight I visited Hope Cemetery, in Barre. Since Barre quarries so much granite, there are lots of impressive memorials there. It's a beautiful cemetery. One thing that struck me is how many Italians are buried there--old stonecutters who came over from Europe to make a go of it in the wilds of Vermont. And another that always strikes me about old cemeteries is how many kids are buried there--lots who didn't make it a full year, and others like Earl, who was just 14. Hard life.
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