Those Who Shall Not Be Forgotten
Abandoned Old Letchworth Village Cemetery

Letchworth Village‘s cemetery, like that of many state-run institutions, marks its graves with nothing but a number. No dates, no names. The state policy adopted by the Office of Mental Health is to keep burial records for state mental hospitals confidential.  But this practice is dated and marked with indignity, like many of the practices of care during the times these large state institutions housed the mentally ill–Lunatics, imbeciles, feeble-minded, and other such words to describe those misfortunate enough to require a support and care unavailable at the time of their operation. This was not sitting right with community members who wanted a means to remember those who had endured an identity-less life by the hands of The State. This plaque was erected to give names to those forgotten no longer, as another marble bench notes. I visited to pay my respects to the patients tucked away in a layer of institutionalized madness.

Though admittedly silly, I kept blowing kisses to the grave markers. (I do this sometimes without realizing I am doing so. Skylines, bridges, a flock of birds flying, the Milky Way, etc) I want to retroactively give so much love out, want to soften the jutting sharp edges that made so much pain. If a place like this reminds you of the importance of care, it is powerful. It helped me recover from some of the darkness I felt after wandering about Letchworth Village‘s ruins.