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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

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Can’t Say No (At Christmas)

CS one-shot set in the future. Hope is three and Emma and Killian are still very much in the throws of a happily ever after, but Killian wants to do something special for Emma for Christmas. With the help of their family and the town, he manages to fulfill a Christmas wish for his wife in exactly the kind of over-the-top fluffy and sweet way you’d expect from me. Includes holiday surprises, Christmas cheer, and a healthy dash of true love. Rated T. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! I really did not know if I was going to be able to get this drabble done, but I am so happy to say that I did and to share it with you all tonight. I know that this Christmas is going to be so different for so many of us, and that it has been a hard year of uncertainty and stress. My gift to our little fandom is this story, focused on Emma and Killian a few years after we got to see them in the show. It’s inspired by the spirit of Christmas, the cheesiness that only Hallmark movies can provide, and the song ‘No Problem’ by Dylan Schneider. I love the idea that Killian cannot deny Emma anything, and that at Christmas he has to make Emma’s wishes come true. I hate to spoil any more of this, but I will just say thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know how the hell you pulled this off, mate, but I got to hand it to you, this is really something special.”

The words David uttered from the bottom of the ladder were high praise, despite the dig at Killian’s favorite endearment. Tonight though, Killian would let the jab slide. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to argue with Emma’s father. Instead he hustled down the rungs and back to solid ground beside his friend. He took stock of the room once more, running his hand through his hair and tracing each corner of the barn with his gaze. There was very little about the place that was recognizable. It had been sufficiently transformed, from an old, dusty tomb of farm equipment, to a space fit for the evening ahead.

“It pays to be a good guy in the end,” Killian joked. Playing up the early days of their knowing each other when Killian was anything but a hero. “Turns out I’ve helped quite a lot of people these past few years. They were eager to return the favor.”

“That’s true enough, but I think the fact that you did this all for Emma plays a big part too.”

There was no doubt about that, and the mere reminder of his wife brought a smile to his lips. She was going to be surprised by this, and there was nothing that he loved more than surprising his Swan. Killian could hardly wait for the look of excitement that would spread across her face, and the light that would appear in her jade colored eyes. Her cheeks would flush from realization, and her hands would move unbiddenly, as if she couldn’t quite contain the excitement or suspense. Emma was always the most beautiful of women, and a miracle to be sure, but when treated to a gift that was truly worthy of her, she was transcendent, his own personal star and tempting taste of heaven.

“Any word from Snow?” Killian asked, checking his watch and seeing they had made good time, despite the hecticness of the day. He had enough time to catch a shower and prepare himself, but he needed to be sure that Emma and Hope were sufficiently occupied in the meantime.

“Better – she sent a video while you were hanging the last of the garland.”

David offered his phone and Killian laughed at the sight. Snow and Emma had taken Neal and Hope out of town to a nearby ski resort that was hosting all sorts of winter activities for kids. In the video Emma, Hope, and Neal were all making snow angels, until Neal gave the signal and he and Hope pivoted to throwing snowballs at Emma. The only problem was Hope was far too little and bundled up in snow gear to be effective. She was having the time of her life though, and at the end of the video, Emma scooped their daughter up and nuzzled her close, bestowing a kiss on her curly brown hair, which had escaped its winter cap. Hope was a dazzling blend of him and Emma, but her goodness and ability to inspire love was totally her mother’s doing.

“Perfect. You good here for the time being?” David nodded, pivoting from his assistant role to commander in chief with the quickness of one-time prince. Content that his tasks were in good hands, Killian headed out, eager to put the next parts of his plan in place.

Things moved quickly from there. He showered and readied himself for the kind of night his Emma had imagined, ignoring the strangeness of his reflection as he did. He would never feel quite right in these damn tuxedos, but Emma’s wish was specific and it included the blasted suit. It also included a number of gifts for Emma and for Hope, which he pulled from the one place in the house Emma never ventured to – the garage. From the back of the storage space there, he grabbed a number of boxes that he’d stuffed away last week, and brought them all inside. After checking the contents were free from any water or dirt, he was convinced things were as they should be, and he left the gifts underneath the Christmas tree.

The only thing left to craft was the note for Emma that would set her surprise in motion. He hadn’t dared to write it out before, wanting to save it for this moment. It felt right to speak from the heart and to put in words exactly how he felt tonight. Still, it took time to get the letter exactly right, and he must admit he grew a bit sentimental when crafting it. A time or two he fell into recent and more distant memories of their lives together, feeling the warmth in his soul that could only ever come from the truest love. Luckily, he had enough of his wits about him and time was on his side. Soon he heard the sound of a car pulling up the drive just as he closed the envelope with Emma’s name and placed it on the tree, and with the stealth accrued in his past life, he slipped out the back door just before his girls came in.

“Mama, look! Santa came early,” he heard Hope say as he quietly rounded the side of the house. For a moment he was truly tempted to steal a look and watch this scene play out, but he reminded himself that there was still more to be done, and instead headed down the street to where a not so patiently waiting Snow was parked.

“Killian, thank God! I thought you’d never get here!” she exclaimed as he opened the door, but before he could reply, young Neal let his own thoughts be known.

“Mom, it’s been like sixty seconds. Literally. Look, I timed it on the stopwatch Henry gave me. 63 seconds.

“No, has it only been a minute? I’m so excited I can’t tell. It feels like forever. I was waiting for this all day. It was so hard not to spill the beans.”

“But you didn’t, right?” Killian checked, pivoting to Neal for the truth. When the boy gave him a thumbs up, he let out a breath. “Good. But it all might be for not if we don’t get a move on.”

“Oh, right. We’ve got to go. We’ve got a Christmas miracle to deliver.” Neal groaned at the words and Killian remained quiet prompting Snow to ask the question, “Sorry, too cheesy?”

“For tonight? No, strangely it’s just right.”

And with that, they pulled away from the curb, headed back towards the barn and the long-awaited surprise.

……………….

“Mama, look! Santa came! Santa came!”

At first Emma didn’t understand the words from her daughter. She was just trying to get her bearings after peeling the snow clothes off of Hope and discarding her own jacket on the hook by the door. Her boots were barely off and her scarf was still wound around her neck. She couldn’t imagine how Hope still had so much energy, but then she remembered – three year olds were like comic book characters, with a super power of endless energy.

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow, honey,” Emma said, righting her clothes and letting go of a big breath, before walking towards the living room. “Two more sleeps until Santa.”

“But look, Mama, pwesents!”

Emma followed her daughters pointing finger across the way, and low and behold there were gifts under the tree that had not been there this morning. Her curiosity was peaked, but when she saw the white envelope secured in the branches of their evergreen tree, she had an inkling of what was happening.

“Killian,” she murmured walking forward, and running her fingertips across the delicate paper.

“Daddy?” Hope asked excitedly, and Emma nodded as she opened the envelope, only to fight off tears of love when she read the letter.

My Dearest Emma,

There are no gifts that I could ever give you that compare to all you’ve given me. I know and accept that, but this time of year is different. It’s a season predicated on love, light, and yes, even a bit of magic. So I had to try, for your sake and for mine.

Christmas is about showing the people you love what they mean to you. It’s about giving love and feeling love, and knowing that even in the dark of a winter night, there is hope and light ahead. It’s about reminding loved ones that you care, that you’re rooting for them, and that their dreams are your dreams too. You taught me that, you and Hope and Henry, and I swear to you that all I could ever want is to make you happy, and to grant the wishes you carry in your heart.

“Ooo, pwetty,” Hope said, dragging Emma’s eyes down to where her daughter had already begun opening the parcels below. Inside the white garment box was a gorgeous crimson colored dress, breathtaking in its elegant design. The satin and the beading were exquisite, and the color was to die for, and like something from a dream. Hope offered the box to her, knowing even at age three that it wasn’t the right size for her. “For you, Mama.”

“Thank you, princess,” Emma said, taking the box in hand, wanting to look at it in full, but knowing the letter was still more important.

You are everything to me, Emma. Everything and so much more. You and our children hold my whole universe in your hands. Tonight, I hope to take your hand in mine, and remind you that in life, all you really need is the perfect partner.

“He didn’t,” Emma whispered, looking down from the letter which had been signed with love by her pirate. Then she looked at the other presents Hope was opening. A beautiful pair of heels, a white fur muff, and a necklace that sparkled, along with all the same things for Hope that were more their daughter’s style and perfect for her size. The last gift was another envelope, with a card. On the top in cursive script it read ‘Selected Suitors for Emma Jones’ and the only name was Killian’s. “Oh my god, he did. It’s a dance. He planned a Christmas dance for me.”

“Dance?” Hope asked and Emma crouched down to help her daughter really open her own garment box, where a beautiful princess-style dress was waiting for her. As soon as she saw it Hope let out a sound of pure delight, clapping her hands together at a hastened clip. At that moment, the front door opened, and Emma looked, expecting to see Killian but instead seeing her son, dressed up in a tuxedo and looking downright dashing. It would have been a shock either way, but this year, when she’d been bracing herself for her son being away for the holiday, it felt like an even greater gift.

“Henry?” she asked, as Hope bolted for her brother. Instinctively, Henry scooped her up, accepting all her hugs and kisses before turning his eyes back to Emma.

“Surprise! Well, part of it anyway. But we’ve got to get a move on, or we’ll be late.”

“Where are we going?” Hope asked. Henry responded by whispering in her ear, low enough that Emma couldn’t hear. Whatever he said made Hope gasp. “Really? We’re going there?”

“Sure are. But we have to get ready. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got Hope. You do what you need to do.”

Emma was spurred into motion, grabbing the gifts marked for her and heading upstairs. In thirty minutes, she and Hope were both ready for whatever awaited them, and though Emma had her suspicions, she was in no way prepared when they arrived at the old McDonald farm. Pulling around back to the barn, there were dozens of people milling around. Everyone in town was here tonight, dressed up and partaking in merriment, but when they left the car and walked inside, Emma was truly stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” she said aloud, taking in the gorgeous decorations. The space was totally transformed, a perfect blend of rustic refinement. The colors were vivid and vibrant, the air was warm and filled with the scent of cinnamon and honey, and the joy here was palpable. There was a buzzing electricity that crackled in the air. This was what all those Christmas movies strove to recreate but could never quite capture, and Emma took it all in knowing that her husband had made this just for her.

Scanning the room for him, Emma was first greeted with the sight of her Mom and Dad and brother. They came forward immediately, hugging her and Hope and Henry and extending their thoughts.

“Oh, honey, you look spectacular!” her mother exclaimed with tears in her eyes, holding her hands and looking at her red dress. It was a truly wonderous design, that hugged every one of Emma’s curves just right while still feeling of the season. It was classic and timeless and more than a little sexy, but it was appropriate for the night, when everyone was dressed to the nines.

“So do you guys,” Emma said honestly, taking in her mom’s sapphire ball gown, and her Dad and brother’s tuxes.

“I’m a princess, Grandpa,” Hope said happily and Emma’s father immediately agreed as the band began to play a slower melody.

“There’s no denying that. Care to dance with me, Princess Hope?” He asked, bowing to her daughter. Hope giggled but took Emma’s hand instinctively, looking at her for permission and clarity.

“What about you, Mama?”

“Don’t worry, sprout,” Henry said nodding across the room and using his favorite nickname for his sister. “Dad’s got her taken care of.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Killian, as if this was a first date and not years into their marriage. She couldn’t help the butterflies swarming within her, and then, like magic the crowd of people parted, and there, across the room was her man. It should have come as no surprise how handsome he would look. Emma was well versed in how roguishly hot her pirate could be, but in a tux it was a whole other story. Maybe it was the rarity of seeing him like this, or maybe Killian was just one of those men who was born to wear a tux, but either way she was struck by him. Everything seemed to stop around her, and all she could sense was the man who completely owned her heart.

A few moments later they were together again. Emma hadn’t even realize she’d been walking towards him, and him to her, but when he took her hand she felt her blood hum in anticipation. She was caught in his eyes, sensing the mixture of love and desire that was so intoxicating, and waiting for him to speak, because words in this moment truly failed her.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he said to her, the gravel of his tone washing over her and sending a shiver down her spine in that delicious kind of way. “The fantasies I’d conjured in my mind’s eye could never do you justice.”

“So you were fantasizing about this, huh?” she asked, her voice thready as she turned, purposefully taunting him with a view of all her best angles. This time he let out a low growl that spiked her desire to tease him. God damn, there were people around! How could she be this hot and bothered? Oh right, she was married to a sinfully attractive and impossibly romantic man. This was par for the course.

“Aye, love, and I promise those musings will prove more than satisfactory when we get home.” His voice dipped low and she swallowed hard, trying to tamp down her own building need. Then something shifted in his eyes, and she knew before he said a word that something immensely thoughtful was about to be shared. “I hope it’s everything that you wanted, love. Those blasted ‘Hallmark towns’ have a lot more built-in Christmas cheer than Storybrooke, but all it took was a hint that this was what you wanted, and everyone came together.”

It dawned on her that the wish he was referring to was one that she’d made a few weekends ago when they were laying in bed watching TV. She usually skipped the Hallmark Christmas extravaganza, but this year she was feeling sentimental. Maybe it was the fact that Hope was finally hitting an age where she was starting to understand the season, or more likely it was the pregnancy hormones from their little one on the way. She was only twelve weeks along, and wasn’t even showing yet, but her self-coined pregnancy induced crazy brain was in full swing, and had been from the start. The only thing getting her through most days was Killian, and then he went and did something like this… it was too much for her, she couldn’t take it.

“I love you,” she confessed, blurting it out like it was some big secret instead of established fact. “Like a lot. A lot a lot.”

“A lot a lot,” Killian parroted with a grin, pulling her with him out to the dance floor before taking her in his arms. She melded into his muscled physique, trying not to swoon as the melody carried them away.

“You know I’m not as good at the whole poetic declarations thing as you are.”

“Few can be, love,” he joked. She raised her brow at him in quiet consternation, and he only laughed before turning her into a low dip on the dance floor and reminding her that he was in total control of himself out here. “But where words might fail you, action is your strong suit. You show me every day how much you love me, Emma. And every day I thank my lucky stars to have that love.”

He made a fair point. Emma was, after all, a woman of action, and so she decided to take some now. Though they were dancing, she stalled their moment to pull him in for a kiss, giving them both a taste of what was to come when the night drew to a close. The sparks between them ignited instantly, and without looking, Emma knew some of her magic was radiating from within. When they pulled apart she was almost dizzy from the delight, but Killian was even more effected. He had that boyish grin of his in full display, and that tiny hint of bashfulness that came when he’d done something really well. Only when she heard the oohing and aahing of the people around them did she realize their magic had created stars along the ceiling of the barn, making it appear that they were all dancing under an inky black sky bursting with constellations.

From a distance, Emma heard her daughter ask if it was ‘magic time’ now, but before she and Killian needed to step in, Regina told her ‘Not tonight, kid,’ and Henry whisked her off for her another dance. This gave Emma and Killian time, time to enjoy the fruits of all he’d done, and to revel in this moment for as long as they could.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. You’ve made it so perfect, I never want it to end.”

“What is it they say in those movies, love? Oh right – every day is Christmas when we’re together.”

And even though it was horribly corny, and she should have rolled her eyes at such a lame joke, Emma found that she couldn’t. She was simply too happy and grateful to feign otherwise. Instead she savored every moment of their Christmas dance, and the night they shared thereafter, knowing this would be one of the best days she’d ever had, and that somehow, some way, her pirate would find other means of making the future just as bright.

……………………

Girl I got a no problem Yeah, it's a bad habit, the way I gotta have it With or without you around All ya gotta do is call me, and tell me that you're lonely You're always stringing me out Yeah, they say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, so here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Girl, I should know better, yeah, I should know never To let you in just to leave If it's just two letters, then why can't I ever Find a way to piece 'em together Let's say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, I'm admitting it, here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Yeah, you already know if you're asking me What the answer's always gonna be It's gonna be, yeah Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Can't say no to you Yeah, you already know if you're asking me Girl, I got a no problem That the answer's always gonna be 'Cause I can't say no to you Girl, I got a no problem 'Cause I can't say no to you

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed this little dose of holiday cuteness and none of this is offensive in any way or to any story line. Most of you know I never watched the last season of the show, so I don’t know what they say happened to Henry and everybody. I only knew Emma and Killian did eventually have a baby girl named Hope. Anyway, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and healthy holiday season. I am grateful for you all, from the ride or die readers who comment on every post, to the people passing by who just wanted a little bit of Christmas cheer. You are such a force for good in my world, whoever you are, and I thank you for your light and kindness in these trying time. I wish you all the best this Christmas and in the New Year, and more than anything I wish you love! Sending my best vibes your way now and always, xE.

The Captain Swan Mixtape oneshot series:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195

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placesiwannagoto · 3 years

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devil's hole

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nature view park

earl w brydges artpark state park

heritage trail

falkner park

upper whirlpool trail

lower falls park

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four mile creek state park

bruce trail southern terminus cairn

lewiston town park

whirlpool state park

two mile creek greenway trail

fort niagara boat launch

de veaux woods state park

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two mile creek conservation area

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porter on the lake town park

niagara falls north/lewiston KOA journey

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artpark

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conesus lake marine park

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franklin gulf

dansville veterans memorial

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james e schwarzenbach memorial

jellystone

east otto state forest

niagara falls/ grand island koa holiday

beaver meadow

hobuck flats

buttermilk falls

boyd & parker park and groveland ambuscade

hamburg beach

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eternal flame

bridal falls

grand island bridge lookout

motor island wildlife management area

veterans park grand island

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richard p outhouse memorial park

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sonnenberg park

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telyea park

atwaters meadow park

northeast park canadaigua

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raisincookieswrites · 5 years

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Podsnezhnik

Warnings: None

Relationship: Bucky Barnes & OFC

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Original Female Character

Tags/Additional Warnings: Fluff

Summary: A secret Hydra bunker existed with a number of other chemically manufactured weapons after the success of the Fist of Hydra. Most were caught and only one remained missing - a trained killer and a daughter of one of the first super-soldiers

It was a frigid evening in mid-December; the drizzling rain of Portland, Oregon hung like a perpetual vail in the air and gave the world a theatrically ethereal glow. Twinkling fairy lights from decorations which festooned the outside of shops and cafes blurred as they draped themselves festively through the severed branches of Norwegian Pines and bulky red bows which now hung heavy and saturated. The wet sidewalks reflected the light and prisms of white and silver lit up the darkness.

Once-upon-a-time the cold wouldn’t have bothered him, a long time ago it had seeped deeply into his bones and trickled through his veins like gelatinous blood. The coldness slowly became his normal until he didn’t consider being anything else. His winters in Germany and Russia, followed by cryofreeze, had done that to him; removed any familiar feelings of warmth until the coldness had become a state of being.

The last few years he had become pampered and far less poetic compared to his time as the Winter Soldier. Tony Stark had joked that he had become a princess and every so often, during one of these ribbings, Bucky would allow a small smile to tug at his lips. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps these days he preferred a scalding bath whenever the memories of the cold would clawingly return to him; and perhaps he liked the feeling of cashmere against his skin when the familiar scent of heavy leather invaded his nostrils and the tinkling of icy buckles rang in his ears.

His heavy boots moved silently as he tailed his mark, ghosting through puddles and slushy mounds of snow cleared from doorways. He didn’t have to be so silent, but it was a force of habit. Cars still swept the street, their lights creating elongated shadows of pedestrians as they glided by; back to their warm suburban homes or on to an evening out. The windows of restaurant were a buzz of activity, bathed in golden light as patrons laughed heartily over their glasses of Merlot and speared pieces of over-priced steak on dainty silver forks.

He skulked in the darkened doorway of a closed toy store as his mark stopped to survey the restaurant scene. He angled his body so he could continue his surveillance; he paid fleeting attention to the carved wooden toys being displayed but he couldn’t help but wonder if people still bought these types of things for their children. Now-a-days was it not all plastic tat and videogames? He didn’t think that anyone cared these days about the carved wooden music box in the corner with the intricately engraved snowdrop flowers, or the varnished trainset which was so much fancier than anything Bucky could have wished for as a child.

They moved on again. Meandering up the street until the din of loud music could be heard in the air; a printed sign held up with ropes against the railings proclaimed a high school winter formal and somewhere beyond that was the excited chatter and laughter of young teenage voices. The mark scaled a low wall and crept along until a suitable vantage point was found; concealed partially by the thick branches of an evergreen and far enough away that the streetlights didn’t completely illuminate her.

She was beautiful, he thought to himself. She looked like his mother had when she was younger; her nose rounded, her cheeks, her chin. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail which curled and frizzed with the dampness around them. She reached into her jacket pocket, a jacket much to thin to ward away the chill of the winter night, and pulled out a protein bar; the wrapper rustled as she tore it open with her gloveless fingers, she broke off the end and nibbled at it savouringly.

~~~~

The cold was something she was used to; it wasn’t something which she ever really thought about but she had learned quickly that not complying with the status quo would get you noticed. So she tugged on her dark green jacket and zipped it all the way up. She had copied her outfit from a girl she saw in the street one day; clumpy ankle boots, tight jeans and her dark green jacket. It made her blend in more than her old black leather pants and jacket ever did; she no longer noticed the annoyed stares from women and the coy smiles from men. Most evenings she would wonder the streets, passing her time by watching people and observing what they were doing; tonight, she didn’t have the luxury of time, she had plans. She dropped by a small bottega, there were a half dozen other customers and when she slipped a few peanut butter protein bars into her pocket it went wholly unnoticed. She left again quietly and carried on her way.

She took her favourite route, up past the restaurants and shops; the little twinkling lights strung around her like stars in the sky and she didn’t think there would ever be a place as magical as Portland. Where she lived in Russia now seemed so barren and desolate; before it had been home, regardless of its concrete walls and rusting metal doors which creaked shrilly with every turn of a lock or a handle or a hinge. The Portland street was still busy, she preferred it this way, it made her feel less alone. Silly really when the reason why she was alone now was because she had chosen to be.

She still wasn't sure how she had managed to earn her freedom, somewhere in the dismantling of Hydra the bunker she was being trained in had become long forgotten. A small group of six assassins had found their way free, her being one of them. The others had been irrational, angry and unpredictable and it hadn’t taken long for her to realise that her only chance of survival was to distance herself from them entirely and to get as far away from Russia as possible. She had never really been like them, she had been a science project gone wrong, instead of an injection of serum she had been a biological experiment created from Hydra's first super soldier.

She had never been as strong or as fast as them or as easily controlled as them, but Hydra had tried to train and control her regardless. The others had all been human beings in their own right, they each had a past and they each had a family; she had been bred in captivity.

She stopped, watching from across the street as a family of four ate dinner in of the restaurants; the mother tucking a crisp white napkin into the collar of a child’s dress. She idly wondered if they had a dog at home; they seemed so perfect. She didn’t have time for this, not tonight, she needed to be somewhere, so she carried on. She had walked this route many times and her feet knew where to take her; she found this building weeks ago and it was teaming with people her age. She had watched from across the street as they all filed in in organised chaos, books clutched under their arms and backpacks slung over their shoulders; she had surveyed them curiously as they all scattered at the ringing of a bell. She visited here every day since.

Tonight they were having a party. She stuck to the shadows, pulling herself onto a low wall and crawled along it on her hands and knees until she could hide behind a bushy tree still covered in green. Her palms were muddy from the grit and the knees of her jeans soaked but she didn’t really notice or care. She could hear the music, the voice of a female singer, and the beat of bass which she could feel reverberate through the wall. Her stomach grumbled noisily and she tore open one of her peanut butter bars; she didn’t have much so she ate it slowly, enjoying the salty sweetness as it danced along her tongue.

She watched in awe, the corners of her mouth twitch upwards in a sad smile, their dresses long and glittery and coming in a rainbow of colours; they wobbled precariously in sandals with heels to high and too strappy to be either comfortable or practical. They shrieked with giggles and threw their arms around their friends in delight. Their hair had been coiffed, curled and hairsprayed and their faces made up with bold lips and smoky eyes, their jewellery over the top and glitzy.

She watched one girl with dark hair and dark eyes; she wore a floor length emerald dress and high gold shoes and a fluffy black jacket she looked like she’d wrestled an emu for. Her parents helped her from the back of their car and she smiled widely as she posed for picture after picture; eventually she whined that she was missing the dance. She wondered what it would be like to trade places with the girl in the green dress; to have parents bother her with so many pictures that she couldn’t get to her dance. Would she be whiny and moan at them too, or would she humour them and bask for as long as she could in their seemingly never-ending attention?

She wondered what it would be like to put on that dress and have her mother stand behind her and curl her hair. To have her parents wrap their arms around her and give her a peck on the cheek and wish her a lovely night.

She shivered in the cold, a dull ache filled her chest and a stray tear bloomed from the corner of her eye.

She would never be the girl in the emerald dress

Eventually they all disappeared inside, their parents calling at them to have fun and be careful and before she knew it the parking lot was empty and she was alone again.

She slipped down from the wall and headed home; through the park she playfully wobbled along a low wooden fence as she used it as a balance beam. The wind whipped at her damp hair and nipped her face as she took a brief shot on the swings; the seat of her jeans now as wet as her knees. She flopped back and let her hair drag along the murky ground and watched the world from upside down. Eventually she moved on, clambering up the fire escape until she reached the rooftop with its abandoned greenhouse; a roof terrace long forgotten. Rotten wood and peeling paint and dirty glass which let in the sunlight whenever it dared to not rain. This was the oasis in the middle of Portland which she had called home.

~~~~

He should have taken her at the school, nobody had been around and the music would have been too loud had there been a struggle; nobody would of heard them. Regardless, he could have easily overpowered her; Steve was here too, lurking somewhere out of sight.

The park was in darkness, the sign at the entrance proclaimed it was past their closing hours but he watched her play; it had almost been carefree but after the glistening of her tears under the streetlight he knew differently. But, she was a child soldier, trained to kill, a far cry from the teenager who was winding her legs around the ropes of the swing so she could dangle upside down. He had read her file and he knew who she was and what she was; a genetic experiment which didn’t quite work but also sort of did. She wasn’t as strong as those injected with the serum; she would never win in hand-to-hand combat so she had made a wise choice when she had left the others.

The others had been rogue, they had committed violent crimes and drew attention to themselves; they had to be hunted down and stopped, some had died in the fighting whilst others they had managed to wrangle in to custody. The girl was the only one left; she had evaded them for months and somehow managed to make it to the States, a fleeting glance at a CCTV camera had eventually tracked her down.

He watched her patiently as she knelt on the floor of the greenhouse her head lowered as she carefully ripped the image of a snowdrop from the glossy pages of a magazine. He would wait until she realised she was not alone; the time had come to bring her in and he let out a quiet sigh.

She stilled, the ripping of paper halted in the stillness of the evening; even the rain had, for a brief interlude, stopped pattering down on the glass roof. She spun on the ground and looked up at him in fright.

Those eyes. She had inherited those straight from him and they penetrated deep into his soul.

She didn’t speak but she swallowed thickly.

“Hey,” he murmured gravely.

She blinked, “have you come to kill me?” she asked softly. It was the first time he had heard her speak and the lilting Russian accent made him smile; it was a far cry from the rest of the Barnes’ Brooklyn drawl.

“I’ve not come to kill you,” he clarified; he meant it. It would not be his intention, but he also knew that if she turned out to be as homicidal as the others he may be left with little choice. “May I come in?” he asked.

She slowly rose to her feet and gave him an uncertain nod as she backed away; her snowdrop picture crumpling slightly in her nervous hands. He noted how young she looked, she was still a child really and yet here she was, cast out into the world with nothing and nobody. She had tried to make the greenhouse comfortable; she had festooned the rusting nails which protruded from the woodwork with lots of strands of twinkling fairy lights which cast a warm golden glow and reflected against the glass. She had started a collage of flower images and stuck them overlapping along the wooden frame; it wasn’t finished yet if the white floral picture in her hands was anything to go by.

A couple of pallets made up the base of her bed; they were topped with a thick layer of spongy foam and a few blankets and scatter cushions. Above her bed she had tacked more pictures cut from magazines adverts; he recognised a couple of them. One was for vitamins and showed a family laughing as they ran over a grassy lawn with a gold retriever; another was for taco meal kit which illustrated a family enjoying dinner around the table. He stopped looking after that; his chest ached, these were the images she looked at before she closed her eyes at night. It made sense, the family in the restaurant and the girl in the green dress. A life she had never known but somehow longed for it above everything else.

His fingers brushed the security tag of one of her blankets and he toyed with it silently.

“I couldn’t get this off,” she told him nervously, her gentle voice quivering.

He tapped it with the tip of his finger, “I think the people at the cash desk are meant to remove them once you pay for them.”

It was a subtle reprimand on his part and he watched as her cheeks heated and she looked away, scolded. He instantly felt bad.

“I like all the lights,” he offered, trying to change the subject.

Her eyes light up and she looked up at them fondly, “I did it myself,” she told him. A hint of pride evident in her voice.

“They’re very pretty,” he told her as he smiled at her. “We should go soon though; would you like to take them with you?”

Her soft smile faded and her eyes welled with tears; the snowdrops crushed in her hands and she gave a small shake of her head.

“They should stay here,” she told him quietly, “for the next person who needs them.”

She paused, “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” her voice tearful, “if you want me to do that, can you kill me now, please?”

“I don’t want you to hurt anyone,” he murmured. “You won’t hurt anyone, and nobody will hurt you. Not anymore.”

#podsnezhnik #bucky barnes #original female character #fluff

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elevatephoto · 6 years

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Gina + Jake | The Barn at Evergreen Memorial Park Wedding Photos

It was sunset and the moon was huge as the sky turned soft pinks, oranges and blue. Gina asked me what makes my favorite weddings. Is it the people, the location, the style, the plan of the day? I told her it is a mix of all of those but the people always come first and where that is the case her and Jake were winning. In reality, this wedding was awesome. It had everything. It all starts with the people. Gina and Jake are one of a kind. They are snarky and funny, they are real and raw, they are sweet and lovable. They have it all. I feel comfortable around them and happy. I believe in love when I am with them.

When I see Gina and Jake together I see two incredible individuals who are different yet share the same heart, world and dreams. Over the last 6 years they have forged a bond that is unstoppable. Their sense of humor will take them through all the hard times. Their real and grounded outlook on life will keep them growing with each other, sharing their vulnerabilities and loves each day. Their sweetness will keep the romance alive. This is the kind of love we all strive for. It is well rounded and still exciting. In fact, I am pretty sure it gets more exciting every day. These two people are the couple that will live the saying “Let this day [your wedding day] be the day you love each other the least.”.

So you take that and add in a beautiful and unique location, good food, music, people who want to dance and party and an ice cream bar and you pretty much have magic. Yes, The Barn at Evergreen Memorial Park itself is pretty phenomenal. The unique rustic two story barn filled with stunning stained glass and market lights as if it needed added ambiance. Jim ‘N Nicks’ Bar-B-Q hit it out of the park with their mac and cheese and collard greens. Then the cherry on top was literal with Little Man Ice Cream. YUM!

The events filled in the rest of the space that made is so great. Everyone had their own unique song down the aisle. Jake came in to Kenny Chesney’s “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” and Gina and her dad danced their way down the aisle. We wandered the property with the most perfect day. It was slightly crisp but sunny and warm. The sunset was out of this world with what looked like a big glowing harvest moon. Their were bets on who would get more cake in their face. Jake lost, of course. The line dancing started with Jake and Gina’s perfectly choreographed first dance.

Yes, folks. It had everything to make it one of my favorite weddings. Now, do I pick favorites… of course not! But lets just say this one will make me smile for a long, long time!

Congrats Jake and Gina. You deserved the best wedding ever and well, your marriage is going to mirror it for sure!

–Katie

A shout out to all the incredible vendors who made the day possible:

Venue // The Barn at Evergreen Memorial Park

Catering // Jim ‘N Nicks Bar-B-Q

Hair // Shear Elegance by Tawny

Dress // Luv Bridal

Make-up // Magnifica Bella, Elite Beauty

Dessert // Little Man Ice Cream

Photography // Elevate Photography

DJ // A Music Plus

Starting the day with beautiful stained glass at The Barn at Evergreen Memorial Park.

Both bride and groom had their own suites to get ready in.

Lacing up the bride Gina’s sweetheart cut strapless beaded wedding gown.

Gina made all the flowers. They were wooden boutonnieres and bouquets.

Groom waiting for his bride amongst the rustic wagon wheels.

First look in the trees outside the barn.

Full wedding party in raspberry and gray.

The groom and groomsmen had a rustic wedding chic with their vests and jeans.

Beautiful bride at The Barn at Evergreen.

Custom made art for their unity ceremony of tying the knot.

The bride danced down the aisle with her dad and had the whole crowd giggling.

Ceremony site at The Barn at Evergreen Memorial Park.

Wedding vows.

Photos including the beautiful barn, trees and rustic space around the property.

View of barn from afar.

Our hipster wedding photos with the rustic wagon wheels.

Every brides dream is to spin in her wedding dress.

Overlooking the lake and the mountains in Evergreen.

Cornhole as a wedding guest book

There were bets on who was going to get more cake in their face.

Line dancing inside the barn.

Gina + Jake | The Barn at Evergreen Memorial Park Wedding Photos was originally published on Denver Wedding Photographers - Elevate Blog

#colorado mountain wedding #colorado wedding #Colorado Wedding Photographer #Colorado Wedding Photos #Cowboy boots #Denver Wedding Photographer #Evergreen Wedding Photographer #Mountain wedding #mountain wedding photographer #Raspberry bridesmaids #red #Rustic Chic #rustic wedding #The Barn at Evergreen Memorial Park #wooden flowers

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theycallmebecca · 6 years

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Drabble: Chris & Ellie - January 2018

Ok, so last week I had a brilliant idea to do a 2018 in Review for Chris and Ellie. I’ve spent the last few days writing rough drafts and now I’m going back and fixing them up. So I’ll be posting a drabble a day between now and New Years Eve!

Shout out to @heather-lynn who made me the AWESOME banner for this tag! It’s sooooo beautiful and I love it!!!!!

This first one is longer than the others will be... but y’all know how I am with my drabbles haha. Hope you guys like it!

Title: Chris & Ellie: 2018 in Review - January

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC (Ellie Spencer-Evans)

Rating: PG

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

JANUARY 2018

Excitement grew in the pit of Ellie's stomach as Chris drove past her parents farm and continued down the highway towards the road that led to the farm that was now theirs.

Twenty four hours ago, she and Chris had been in New York City finding an apartment for them to live in while he was starring on Broadway. They'd signed the rental papers and then had rushed to the airport to catch a flight back to Oregon so they could close on the sale of their dream home.

Two miles past her parents house, Chris turned off the highway and onto the country road that their farm was on. Within a few minutes, the gate that marked the entrance to their property came into sight and Chris turned off the paved road and onto the start of the long gravel driveway.

Since the gate was locked, Ellie climbed out of the car and used the gate key to unlock it. Then she pushed it back so Chris could drive the car onto the property. Once he was past her, she let the gate go, letting it close itself, before she hurried back to the warm car.

"We are so getting a powered gate," she told Chris as she rubbed her hands together.

Chris chuckled as he drove the car slowly down the gravel driveway. The house was screened from the road by large evergreen and deciduous trees and sat about half a mile down the driveway. A very bumpy half a mile.

"Add a paved driveway to our list," Chris muttered as the car hit a rut in the gravel.

"Already on the list," Ellie replied, glancing up from her cell phone where she and Chris were keeping a list of the things they wanted to change about the house. She opened her mouth to say something else, but forgot what it was when the beautiful, 90-year-old, white-washed farmhouse came into view.

Having grown up "around the corner", she'd been to the house for Christmas parties during her youth and had always loved visiting it, but she'd never dreamed that she'd one day own it. It was common, in this area, for houses to be passed onto the next generation of the family, but the children of the previous owners hadn't wanted to farm.

It had been while Chris and Ellie had been in Oregon last month for Christmas that they'd learned the house was on the market. They'd been looking for a house in the area during the last year, but hadn't found anything they'd both loved. This house had been different though, Ellie had already loved the place (based purely on her memories of it) and Chris had fallen in love with it within seconds of seeing it himself.

As they neared the house, Chris decided to park near the house instead of continuing up to the detached garage. Turning off the engine, he glanced at Ellie and asked, "You ready?"

"I've been ready since we left New York last night," Ellie replied, shooting him a quick smile before she opened her door and got out of the car.

Once they'd learned that their offer on the house had been accepted, they'd reached out to Ellie's uncle and cousin, who ran a construction company in the area, and hired them to do the remodeling project. The four of them had had phone conversations about ideas they had for the house, since her uncle and cousin were both familiar with it, but they had an official appointment tomorrow to go over all the ideas and take measurements.

While Chris unlocked the door to the house, Ellie bounced on the balls of her feet, excited to go in and see the house again. The house was nearly perfect for them, though stuck in the 1970s (when the last remodel had happened) and missing a few important parts, but there was room to add the missing pieces.

The front door opened to a hallway that had a staircase, to the second floor, as well as doorways to the living room, kitchen and dining room. Each room was a decent size, but Chris and Ellie wanted to open up the walls, if possible, to make it one large living area. They also wanted to close in the outdoor breezeway that led to the detached garage to provide a space for a family room off the kitchen and a small bathroom.

The second floor had three average sized bedrooms, a family bathroom and a slightly larger bedroom that was meant to be a master bedroom. As they were currently, the rooms were the perfect size for kids, but none of them were large enough for the master suite that they had envisioned or the upstairs laundry room they wanted. With the enclosed breezeway, however, there would be enough for both.

"Are you ready for this?" Chris asked Ellie as he came to where she was standing and looking out of a bedroom window with a view of the backyard. They both knew they were in for a rough few months, but they'd be on the other side of the country.

"Yes," Ellie replied. "So ready, I wish it was done already and we could move in."

Chris chuckled. "I'm just glad we're not going to be living here during construction," he said. "Though, it would have been fun to knock down a couple walls."

"This is just phase one," Ellie reminded him as her eyes found the barn.

During one of their talks about the farm, they'd agreed that they weren't interested in having farm animals, which left them with a barn and nothing to do with it. Until Ellie had come up with the idea of making the loft area into an office and making the main floor into a place to watch movies, play games and just hang out. That was phase two of their remodel project that would take place once they were living in the house.

For phase three, they wanted to build three or four small cabins for extended family and friends to stay when they came to visit. They were still working out the logistics of the project and seeing if they could even get the permits to do it, but it wasn't as vital as the first two phases of the project.

Before leaving the house, Ellie convinced Chris to take a selfie with her as they stood on their front steps wanting to remember the beginning of their new project.

#theycallmebecca #beccaheartschrisevans #becca writes drabbles #chris evans #chris evans x ofc #chris and ellie #chris and ellie 2018 #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #cande drabbles

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thefamilyineverknew · 6 years

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Turning 47: pt. XV

“Ch-ch-ch-changes”

26 May 2018

“You know, in Sweden they make these perfectly shaped butter knives. They’re just ideal for spreading butter on pancakes,” I say as I wolf down a hot stack. It’s a bright Sunday morning in Evergreen, Colorado at Benny & Kathleen’s. Thankfully, they were home last night and were willing to put me up for the night (kicking their middle child out of his room for me...extra thanks to him). I woke to a family of deer peering in my window from the surrounding forest and the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen upstairs. How did I deserve all of this? Again, I am overcome by the generosity and warm hospitality of people who I haven’t seen in forever.

“So, how did the meeting at Barnes & Noble go?,” they ask with baited breath. “Well, wow...,” I reply, and proceed to reiterate the details of the story that I have laid down in the previous parts of this tale, showing them the photo of Arla and me in the park. “Oh wow! It’s really undeniable,” they marvel. I am here and present, but also in a bit of a daze. That just happened, and here I am in the home of old college friends on a Sunday morning, eating breakfast before they go off to church. Time is playing ALL KINDS of tricks. Now is then is now is then. Waxing and waning. Kathleen is buzzing around the kitchen, whipping up pancakes in her Sunday best, while Benny and I commisurate over coffee. It’s as if I walked through a wormhole from 1993 to 2018. I feel the same way in their presence as I did when I was 22.

“So, are you going to the reunion?,” Kathleen asks, effervescently as she does. ”I think I have to, seeing as I was professoring there this last term. If I can cobble the funds together; definitely,” I say, and we commence to listing all of our old classmates who we should pester to be there. “Do you think Dan Rauter would come?,” zips Kathleen. ”I’m not sure. I’d love to see him. Just the whole gang. That was one of the best things about being back at Wheaton, being able to see so many people who I hadn’t in so long. It was crazy. Yes, I really need to be there,” I say. Declarations are made, and names dropped. It’s so good. So bizarre. It was crazy to see so many people over the Spring term, slipping in from a faded memory to LIVE, flesh and blood reality, just like sitting here at Kathleen & Benny’s dinner table.

The house is bustling with activity as Kathleen and the kids are bolting out the door to make it to the Episcopal church. Benny and I are engrossed in a light theological conversation, and he asks Kathy to save him a seat as he will catch up soon. Benny has already been to one early morning service this morning, a Catholic mass, and he is explaining to me his slow conversion to Catholicism.

Unbeknownst to me, Benny had grown up in the Evangelical Free Church (a merger of the Norwegian and Swedish Free Churches in America from 1950), just as I had. It turns out we were both at the same Youth National Conference in Denver in 1988. “Did you know Big John?,” he asks. “Wow....there’s someone who I haven’t thought of in decades. Yeah, I even drew a cartoon picture of him,” I confirmed. Neither of us knew much of who Big John was or where he came from, but he was definitely memorable; a man in his 50’s or 60’s, who must have been on the spectrum. Who or which group was he connected with? If it raised any eyebrows at the time, I didn’t hear of it, nor did I hear anything ever happening. Today, I don’t think his presence would be acceptable, just cause, well, you know. But again, it didn’t cross my mind then and there was nothing untoward that happened to my knowledge.

Going to the National Conference was the hilt of summers for me back in high school; 2500 teenagers converging in one place for a week. Half of those were girls, and my hormones were racing around like atoms in the particle accelarator at FermiLab. It was a perfect stage on which to try out all my extroverted show off tricks; breakdancing, skateboarding, or just being able to make people laugh. It was heaven, and the fact that all of these kids were coming from a similar place in the church community meant that I didn’t have to feel awkward or edgy about being a pastor’s kid. And I remember, there was this one person at this very National Conference in Denver who left a massive and lasting impact on me, one which solidified the course I’ve been on to this day. His name was Fred.

Fred was a part of the youth group that came down from Rochester, Minnesota, and, in my opinion, that group was THE coolest bunch of kids I’d ever met in person. They were punk and New Wave, and while I had dabbled in the style a bit, this was the first time I had ever been around people actually like that. I mean, I had seen that style in John Hughes films and on MTV, but never in real life. Where we came from on the Eastside of Des Moines, it was all Classic Rock (when it was just known as Rock); feathered hair, Van Halen, combs in back pockets, and muscle cars. These kids from Rochester were all laid back skaters. There were so many firsts I witnessed coming from that group. I just wanted to hang with them. And in right there in the middle of all of them was this guy Fred.

The thing about Fred that blew me away was that he was plain, and at least physically, NOT cool, but every one of the other cooler-than-Alaska kids deferred to him with respect. Fred was fairly overweight, which where I came from was an instant social death sentence, but if it was something that he ever felt insecure about, it didn’t show. No, he was solid, sitting in their midst like a Buddha, normal as could be; the sun in a solar system set-up. And I thought....if this guy, who by all appearances should be a cast aside (in my limited, teenaged prejudiced opinion), is able to just be, cool with himself as he is and command the respect he does...then...why should I ever give a second thought to what other people think about me? And that set a tone for me, going forward. My early leanings toward non-conformity were absolutely crystalized meeting Fred. I think I may have written him once after that conference, but there was never a correspondence kept up. I don’t even remember his last name, but I do remember the impact he had on me. Thank you, Fred.

So, Benny comes out of the same soil that I did, which is just wild to me. Wilder still, is that his train has switched tracks toward Catholicism. As he explains it to me, it all comes down to doctrine. The Catholic church is less emphasis on one’s individual personal responsibility in attaining and keeping up one’s salvation. It’s already a done deal. Its all in the doctrine and the sacraments , allowing him to just go and worship, without having to strain and stretch to try to receive God’s favor. It’s already been done, he just needs to be present. Kinda like Fred, just being there, content in this space. He makes an appealing argument, and I am very far from being dogmatic about the different flavors of Christendom. “Do you think it’s the Protestant appointment to continually fracture into smaller and smaller shards of belief until it stops meaning anything?;” I ask. How many denominations can there be, each one believing their way and vision is the RIGHT way? Benny says this is part of why he started investigating Catholicism.

I remember back when I was in undergrad at Wheaton, one of the best parts was trying out these different flavors of Christian worship. There was the hippie church, Jesus People (JPUSA), in Chicago. Then there was the generic, big box non-denominational variety, like Wheaton Bible or College Church. And the Presbyterian churches. And the Episcopal churches, like Church of the Resurrection and St. Mark’s (where I had my first communion with REAL wine, not Welch’s Grape Juice). It was a blizzard of experimentation, investigation, and research into the style, views, and formats. Now, at Wheaton, being a college firmly rooted in evangelicalism, going to church was basically expected, which meant that Sunday lunch in the cafeteria was a natural place for assessments on whether or not others had gone to church, based on the clothing people wore. I am more than certain that several stressed out about this to the point where they would dress up for lunch if they hadn’t made it to church. I couldn’t be bothered with that. If there were ever a snide comment like, “Where’d you go to church, Kurt?”, I’d just say I had spent some time in The Word. Not only did it cut the snark, it was 100% true. I called my bed “The Word”, with a big sign on it stating its name. This became a problem for at least one of the underclassmen on my floor when I was an RA, borderline heretical. I do remember, Brendan. 😉

It is easy for me to listen to Benny describe his journey and thinking. We come out of the same place, and I can understand transformation and maturation far more than I can stagnation and samey-sameness. I live in Sweden now, have been for 16 years. True belief in Jesus, or any deity, is highly out of place and foreign; viewed with eye-narrowing suspicion. While Christianity is solidly a part of Sweden’s history and heritage, it has also always been lock and step with the government. For hundreds of years, it was mandatory for the people of Sweden to attend church. The church was in charge of keeping people in line, as well as for the country’s census and population control. It was not optional. Therefore, church in Sweden is not viewed as a place to receive any kind of true belief, but an institutional organism where tradition is upheld; in infant baptism, weddings, and funerals. This underlines my conviction that church and state should always remain separate. Belief should always be a choice, not compusory.

So, I don’t blame Swedes for being narrow-eyed, at all (I half-expect my Swedish friends to be reading this side-eyed, all this church talk, but I’m cool with that. This is my story, this is my song). Moving here was a cultural womp on a multitude of levels, including spiritually. I share this with the Hindus, Jains, Buddhists, Muslims, Jews and anyone else I’ve encountered who has moved here with a spiritual belief system from outside. It is a spiritual desert, with a fixation on the sensory and material here-and-now. Belief is dead wood, relegated to tradition or the sole domain of the sciences. But it is good to know, life still does thrive in the desert (if you’ve ever watched David Attenborough), it just looks and behaves differently than, say, a jungle or forest. I have adapted and I feel good about where I am, and I feel good about the people around me. I reject “us vs. them”. It’s just us. If I am viewed as a “them”, whether it’s true or not, so be it.

Benny and I wrap up. I go downstairs to pack, and do a couple “idiot checks” to make sure I am not leaving anything behind. And then we’re out the door, headed to our cars. “Benny! It’s so great to see you. Send me your address. I will send you some Swedish butter knives. You’ll see,” I bark in parting. And we head out, up the drive and onto the winding roads of Evergreen; Benny to join his family at the Episcopal church, and I, through the soaring cathedral of the Rockies and up to Boulder to see if I can meet up with Jolly Northrup.

I text Jolly... “Jolly!”

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the-never-ending-story · 4 years

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My memories come rushing to me so many times through scents and smells I pass by. These hold such power to make me see something long gone. In these moments everything is so wonderfully alive, and my body is still, but myself is somewhere far in a stolen moment to relive time past. I remember this moment clearly even as I am sitting here writing my thoughts. Beautiful moment it was to feel the slow and peaceful space I once had when little. We used to spend the summer at the farm of my maternal grandparents. It was my moment to escape the big world and find my own. Many times, I took my blanket out to the backside of the main farmhouse, with the white, rough walls. I loved that spot, as the sun hit the house during the day and at the back the walls reflected shade onto the grass. I always took a book to read and leave my head on the sun and my body in the shade. The lines of the book would at times disappear and I would fall asleep dreaming of worlds yet to discover. The farm was big, and there was everything you could imagine. You entered through a big wooden gate leading down on a rocky path, opening like a bubble for cars to park. On both sides, along the path shrubs and bushes of berries. I remember picking them and could barely be patient enough to wait until they were ripe. On the right-side a swing and other wooden toys to play with. Through a wooden arch, you arrived to lines of sown plants and seeds. There were tomatoes, zucchini, squash, greens and herbs to pick. My grandmother worked from day to night, I never saw her rest. Along the sides of the farm huge evergreen bushes grew, all the way up towards the hills. On the left side from the path leading to the main house apple and fruit trees. I walked under them many times looking for ones that have fallen off the branches. If I walked further down in the left down corner there were chickens, turkey and other winged animals in a carefully built beautiful home. It had a big patio looking up to the sky and a roofed edge for them to hide under when the storm hit through the skies. Along the fence there were more bushes of raspberries and blackberries. To the right a stone hut where my grandmother kept her cheese. She was talented in many ways and every morning went to milk the cow, that she later carefully crafted in her hands. The cheese cellar was carved out of stone and it was naturally cold inside. The cheeses were sitting on wood planks, wrapped in white cotton. You had to lean forward when entering through the small door, but I was so little for me the door was up the roof. Out on the path, turning into a bubble at the end, on the left side there was a huge, high ceiling workspace. It looked like a barn, with wooden beams running above your head. This was my grandfathers’ space. He kept his car in here, and many bags of oat and hay for the horses. There was a big wooden worktable with a vice-bench. I was told many times to never play with it, my finger could get hurt if it were to get stuck between the pieces of metal. There were horseshoes and picture frames of horses and races hanging on the white walls, dust in the air from moving bags of hay around and a ladder leading up to a small attic, with straw on the floor. A hiding space. I could sit on the top of the ladder and look down as my grandfather was working and fixing saddles, bridles and treads. There was an old western saddle hanging from the wall on a wooden pole, little did I know I will be living in the area from where my grandfather received it once. Outside from the barn, up on a concrete path you passed by the guest house where my grandparents hosted families throughout the year. My grandmother every morning prepared their breakfast from fresh and handpicked vegetables, homemade cheese and meat, bread, eggs and milk. It was a beautiful guesthouse, with that typical Hungarian touch of the countryside. Whitewashed, sturdy, thick walls, triangle rooftops made of wood and big windows with palettes to shut in the evening, beams running across to keep some light in and some out. The house was built like the main house, to where you followed the concrete path and walked up a few steps, on both sides, big evergreen bushes grew. The steps led up to an elevated porch, to one side a sitting area with an outside table and chairs, and to the other rose garden and grass, in-between a stone pathway leading down the side. The main house was magical, with a tall whitewashed stone arch, hidden by the vining trumpet flowers, blooming in orange end of each summer. On two sides grapes grew and made the walls covered with their paws attaching to the small crevices. The house was long, from the entrance you could see both ends, it was horizontally built along the lifted porch. At the far-left end of the house there was a big dining room, with at least twelve chairs to sit down and invite big families to eat. During the colder months, my grandmother served the food in this hall, on the beautiful plates all collected in a big, standing cupboard, with glass windows to see through. The kitchen was right before the main hall. I loved how the entire house was one long line, connecting each room with double winged or single doors. The kitchen was where you could see my grandmother most of the time, except for the outdoors. She baked, cooked and prepared so many homemade foods. Everything was made with heart, love and care. Her cheesecloth was hanging from a small hook, dripping the whey into a big kettle. You could hear every drip clanking the base. My grandfather would slice the fresh bread with a big knife, take out butter and slices of salami and mustard to spread. My brother and I could not wait to take a big bite before starting a new day. There were many days when I had to study, so I would sit by the wooden round table, my grandmother strolling in the kitchen, my grandfather coming to check how I am doing. He is passionate about math and we sometimes spent hours on various tasks. My favorite corner in the house was the long corridor leading to the bathroom with collections of books. My mum when she was little was collecting a series of tales and all these were there covered with colored cotton fronts. They had these pastel colors and their title carved in with golden letters, short descriptions on the back. I loved reading and when I was not riding or working outside with the animals, playing around the gardens, I would pick one of these books and take a chair to the front porch or to the back of the house, to that favorite spot. We were not allowed to watch television, only a short story in the evening. It was coming on every night about a little bear getting ready for bed. Me and my brother would curl up under the big blankets, with big cushions behind our backs and sit there together with my grandparents until our eyes turned heavy and our mouth opened for a yawn. My grandmother would tuck us into our beds and give us each a kiss on our forehead. When we woke to the next day you could hear the cows early in the morning, even before the sunrise. My grandmother walking out to the back in her long boots, saying good morning to all the little animals. Mackomuki, our big German Shepherd, following her every step. Around the house, down from the front porch, through the rose garden on the stone steps, you found to your right a huge fenced in area for horse riding that my grandfather built. To your left a grass patch behind the house, and the stone path leading up to a small wooden gate to the back yard. Entering through the gate to your right still the horse pound, on your left a barn, stalls and stables for the donkey, one for cows with a newborn bairn and two for horses when we brought them up to ride in the pound. In the barn, the ceiling was made of wooden beams and under it my grandparents store more hay and bags of food for the animals. Further down on your left another big open patch fenced in for ducks, geese and hens running around. To your right at the end of the horse pound a new wooden fence circling around a big area leading up on a hill. Cows were in here and if you walked up the hill a small hut for sheep and goats and a big land of grass for them to feed on. The farm was at the end of this small town in the calm and peaceful countryside of Hungary. People lived and talked differently here, you could hear the dialects of old times. The farm was surrounded by lands and hills, forests and vineyards. The hills had beautiful trails where we went to ride horses for several hours a day. My grandfather owned the land across from the main gate to the farm, on the other side of the one town road. The land was huge and spread all the way from the farm to the next town. My grandfather spent years building a wooden fence along his land. This magical land was all for his horses. A little walk away from the farm, down on the main road, he built on his land a huge open barn, with a section that was covered with wooden beamed ceilings and fully enclosed sides for the horses to warm up during winter. The open sides had huge wood carved feeders to pour fresh water and oats into. We had fifteen horses and they all lived freely on this huge land leading down to the other town. This side of the land was different to the one up by the side of the farm. Instead of being a big, open, grass and flower covered field, it turned into a forest that to me seemed magical. Bushes, moss, small creek running between rocks and soil. Birds chirping and some trees with their branches covering the path, having to lift them up and carefully pass by. There is so much more that I could tell, how we jumped on straw bales, creating fairytales, my horse Kucorka and our long rides up to glades, the sun hitting down, eating plums we picked on the way. There are also those memories I could never put into words and they will live inside me, and perhaps I can make others feel them too, but words would never be enough to describe. Sadly, our land is gone. My grandparents divorced and my grandpa moved to our capital. My grandmother, though we really tried to convince her otherwise, sold my horse, all the horses, all the animals, became a nurse and eventually sold the big farm too. This is another story to tell, how my grandmother was so sad she cut all her connection to us all for years to come. She has only seen me three times since and my mother only once. I can never forget the tears running on my mum’s face, finally being in the arms of her mum again. They have not seen each other after that again. My grandmother is still hurt after so many years and does not make much contact with any of us from her family. She is now working in Germany for a family, taking care of an old lady as a nurse. She owns a small house not far from the farm, but the farm as it was is not there anymore. I am hoping maybe one day, I will drive down to the small town to remember the places, the sounds, the smells and finally to visit our old farm. I am scared to go, who knows what and how it is now. Is the magic all gone, with us departing from that land, that space, those places? I am hoping that in my memories none of it will be lost and upon returning, the images will appear in front of my eyes, walking through the land and the house.

‘Fragrances. When a scent hits you and flies you back in time. Today as I was preparing the rose garden and cleaning off the dead branches and leaves of peonies, grabbing for the mulch to lay a fresh ground, the smell was as if I stood on the ground of the old farm that belonged to my grandparents. There are moments when time stops, and those moments are worth every second to be present in.’

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elderperfect · 5 years

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2020 Best Nursing Homes - Ohio

ElderPerfect a leading publisher on senior healthcare across the United States, today announced the recipients of the Best Nursing Homes in Ohio for 2020. These awards are designed to recognize providers based on their ability to consistently deliver excellence in the areas of Health Inspections, Quality of Residence Care, Penalties and Staffing. We’ve evaluated over 961 facilities, of which 192 (20%) met our top rating. This report marks the Gold Standard in terms of care for seniors. 0 Ranked Best Facilities  5/5

US Standard vs. Best Facilities

Average Number of Beds: 106 vs 95 Average Occupancy: 81% vs 83% Average Health Inspection Rating: 2.82 / 5.00 vs. 3.90 / 5.00 Average Government Rating: 3.01 / 5.00 vs. 4.49 / 5.00

Rating Methodology

Health Inspections Every year, the government assigns inspectors to conduct a formal review of nursing homes for regulatory purposes to meet the mandates outlined for Medicare and Medicaid, this aims to measure and improve the safety of residents across providers. Facilities may also be inspected when complaints are submitted or based on a reported incident. When noncompliance is identified, the facility is served a citation that indicates which regulation that was identified, along with the severity of the incident. Nursing homes are subsequently required to execute a program of resolution in order to meet compliance. Some scenarios require enforcement actions to be applied, such as a civil monetary penalty or withholding of payment(s), to incentivize resolution in a timely manner. Penalties Facilities are applied 2 types of penalties due to non-compliance / accumulation of incidents. Civil penalties are monetary fines that may be applied to a facility based on citations / infractions identified during a review. The severity of a penalty is defined primarily by the size and frequency of the infraction. Quality of Residence Care There are 3 types of resident care ratings, but for this exercise, we primarily focused on the overall quality measure rating. The quality measures (QMs) include 17 data points that are derived from clinical information reported by the respective nursing home and also from Medicare claims data submitted for payment. Ratings are calculated for the QM domain using the 4 most recent quarters for which data are available. A nursing home receives points contingent on performance on each measure (weighting distribution is not equal). Staffing Staffing research is submitted regularly by the facility and is adjusted for the requirement of the facilities residents. For each of registered nurse staff and total staffing, a 1 - 5 rating is applied according to definitions established for each category. These ratings are subsequently combined to assign an overall staffing rating. As an example, to get an overall staffing rating of 5 stars, nursing homes must earn a rating of 5 stars for both registered nurses and total staffing. Nursing homes could also be assigned a 1 star rating should they not have a registered nurse on-site daily, and do not submit staffing data, or which the data cannot be verified.

Best Nursing Homes in Ohio

HILLSIDE PLAZA CEDARWOOD PLAZA ANNA MARIA OF AURORA PLEASANTVIEW CARE CENTER MENORAH PARK CENTER FOR SENIOR HERITAGE MANOR JEWISH HM FOR SCHOENBRUNN HEALTHCARE VAN WERT MANOR LAURELS OF WORTHINGTON, THE O'NEILL HEALTHCARE BAY VILLAGE O'NEILL HEALTHCARE LAKEWOOD ALTERCARE OF WADSWORTH OHIO LIVING PARK VISTA ALTERCARE OF CUYAHOGA FALLS CTR FOR REHAB & NURSIN ALTERCARE POST-ACUTE REHAB CENTER MADISON HEALTH CARE SHELBY POINTE, INC ST CATHERINE'S MANOR OF FINDLAY BRIARWOOD VILLAGE OHIO LIVING MOUNT PLEASANT GREEN HILLS CENTER FRANKLIN PLAZA EXTENDED CARE ALTERCARE OF ALLIANCE CTR FOR REHAB & NC INC PLEASANT VIEW HEALTH CARE CENTER MEADOWS OF KALIDA MAYFAIR VILLAGE NURSING CARE C COMMUNITY SKILLED HEALTH CARE MOUNT WASHINGTON CARE CENTER LOVELAND HEALTH CARE CENTER GREENEWOOD MANOR GRAND RIVER HEALTH & REHAB CENTER BETHANY VILLAGE CHAPEL HILL COMMUNITY EVERGREEN HEALTHCARE CENTER OTTAWA CO RIVERVIEW NURSING HO PINNACLE POINTE NURSING & REHABILITATION CENTER JOSHUA TREE CARE CENTER FRIENDS EXTENDED CARE CENTER O'BRIEN MEMORIAL HEALTH CARE C PICKAWAY MANOR CARE CENTER FRIENDSHIP VILLAGE OF DUBLIN OTTERBEIN PORTAGE VALLEY SHEPHERD OF THE VALLEY-BOARDMAN VILLA CAMILLUS THE S.E.M. HAVEN HEALTH CARE CENTER COUNTRY CLUB RET CENTER I I I AUSTINWOODS REHAB HEALTH CARE LAURELS OF NEW LONDON THE MEADOW WIND HEALTH CARE CTR INC NORWALK MEMORIAL HOME WORTHINGTON CHRISTIAN VILLAGE ARBORS AT MINERVA HICKORY CREEK AT HICKSVILLE SALEM REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER-SNF O'NEILL HEALTHCARE NORTH RIDGEVILLE WESTERN HILLS RETIREMENT VILLAGE PLEASANT LAKE VILLA ST MARY'S ALZHEIMER'S CENTER DRAKE CENTER INC TRINITY SKILLED CARE CENTER PEBBLE CREEK ST MARGARET HALL INC NATIONAL CHURCH RESIDENCES BRISTOL VILLAGE BROADVIEW MULTI CARE CENTER HEALTH CENTER AT THE RENAISSAN VISTA CENTER OF BOARDMAN WILLOWS AT WILLARD THE COPLEY HEALTH CENTER EASTGATE HEALTH CARE CENTER HEALTHCARE CENTER AT THE FORUM COUNTRY VIEW OF SUNBURY COMMUNITY CARE CENTER ASSUMPTION VILLAGE THE WASHINGTON SQUARE HEALTHCARE CENTER WILLOWOOD CARE CENTER OF BRUNSWICK ELISABETH SEV PRENTISS CTR FOR CROWN CENTER AT LAUREL LAKE COURTYARD AT SEASONS MARJORIE P LEE RETIREMENT COMMUNITY TRANSITIONAL CARE UNIT NORTHWESTERN CENTER VILLA SPRINGFIELD REHABILITATION AND HEALTHCARE CE VALLEY VIEW HEALTH CAMPUS RAE ANN SUBURBAN INDEPENDENCE HOUSE JUDSON PARK OAK CREEK TERRACE INC SAINT JOSEPH CARE CENTER REGINA HEALTH CENTER CROWN POINTE CARE CENTER CRESTWOOD RIDGE SKILLED NURSING AND REHAB AUTUMN AEGIS NURSING HOME EUCLID SUBACUTE CARE CENTER OHMAN FAMILY LIVING AT HOLLY KENDAL AT OBERLIN MH-LIMA SKILLED NURSING UNIT QUAKER HEIGHTS NURSING HOME

PROVIDENCE CARE CENTER CALCUTTA HEALTH CARE CENTER WILLOW BROOK CHRISTIAN HOME ADDISON HEALTHCARE CENTER OHIO LIVING SWAN CREEK COUNTRY MEADOW REHABILITATION AND NURSING CENTER MILL MANOR CARE CENTER CARLISLE MANOR HEALTH CARE INC ASHTABULA COUNTY MEDICAL CENTE HANNA HOUSE SKILLED NURSING CE GABLES CARE CENTER INC BERKELEY SQUARE RETIREMENT CEN AULTMAN TRANSITIONAL CARE CENTER CHESTERWOOD VILLAGE PARKVIEW CARE CENTER VANCREST HEALTH CARE CENTER OF EATON LEGENDS CARE REHABILITATION AND NURSING CENTER VISTA CENTER, THE ST FRANCIS SENIOR MINISTRIES SALEM NORTH HEALTHCARE CENTER WOODLAND COUNTRY MANOR INC BROWN MEMORIAL HOME INC BLOSSOM HILL CARE CENTER WOODLANDS HEALTH AND REHAB CENTER MOHUN HEALTH CARE CENTER ALTERCARE ADENA INC. ADAMS COUNTY MANOR SUNSET HOUSE LIFE CARE CENTER OF ELYRIA HILLSPRING HEALTH CARE & REHAB HUMILITY HOUSE MINERVA ELDERCARE CENTER BENNINGTON GLEN NURSING & REHA HENNIS CARE CENTRE OF BOLIVAR SARAH JANE LIVING CENTER CANTERBURY VILLA OF ALLIANCE LANFAIR CENTER FOR REHAB & NSG CARE INC MASON HEALTH CARE CENTER FALLS VILLAGE RETIREMENT COMMUNITY MOUNT NOTRE DAME HEALTH CENTER PARKSIDE VILLA WESTOVER RETIREMENT COMMUNITY MORRIS NURSING HOME WESTERN RESERVE MASONIC COMM SUNSET VILLAGE FOREST GLEN HEALTH CAMPUS CHERITH CARE CENTER AT WILLOW BROOK APOSTOLIC CHRISTIAN HOME INC SHEPHERD OF THE VALLEY HOWLAND CLAYMONT NURSING & REHABILITATION CENTER ALTERCARE OF MAYFIELD VILLAGE, INC WALNUT HILLS NURSING HOME NORTHFIELD VILLAGE RETIREMENT COMMUNITY FAIRLAWN HAVEN ASTORIA HEALTH & REHAB CENTER URSULINE CENTER CEDARS OF LEBANON CARE CENTER ALTERCARE OF NOBLES POND, INC KENDAL AT GRANVILLE PROMEDICA GOERLICH CENTER TWIN LAKES SHAWNEESPRING HEALTH CARE CENTER BETHANY NURSING HOME, INC SELECT SPECIALTY HOSPITAL-CLEVELAND OHIO LIVING LAKE VISTA HARDING POINTE ST MARY OF THE WOODS OTTERBEIN NORTH SHORE HUNTINGTON WOODS CARE & REHAB CENTER PINE GROVE HEALTHCARE CENTER ALTERCARE OF CANAL WINCHESTER POST-ACUTE RC KEYSTONE POINTE HEALTH AND REHABILITATION REHAB PAVILION AT THE WEILS SAYBROOK LANDING DEUPREE COTTAGES STONESPRING OF VANDALIA WILLOW RIDGE OF MENNONITE HOME COMMUNITIES OF OHIO WOOSTER COMMUNITY HOSPITAL SNF AVENUE AT MEDINA ATLANTES THE KINGSTON REHABILITATION OF PERRYSBURG ROBERT A BARNES CENTER MOUNT VERNON HEALTH AND REHABILITATION CENTER ELMWOOD ASSISTED LIVING & SKILLED NURSING OF FREMO AVENUE AT AURORA ALTERCARE TRANSITIONAL CARE OF THE WESTERN RESERVE TIFFIN REHABILITATION CENTER CENTER FOR REHABILITATION AT HAMPTON WOODS THE CONCORD VILLAGE SKILLED NURSING & REHABILITATION MONROE COUNTY CARE CENTER JAMESTOWNE REHABILITATION SHEPHERD OF THE VALLEY POLAND MENTOR RIDGE HEALTH AND REHABILITATION BRUNSWICK POINTE TRANSITIONAL CARE CANFIELD ACRES LLC DBA WINDSOR HOUSE AT CANFIELD

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americafuneral10-blog · 6 years

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Memorable Cemeteries in Every State

Going to cemeteries suck. It’s never for a joyous occasion. They are one of the few places that humans face their mortality, which tends to make a lot of people uncomfortable. Pop culture has done a wonderful job of making cemeteries the focal point of horror films. From ghosts, to zombies, to vampires, odds are something bad is going down if there’s a cemetery scene in a movie. It’s about time we highlight cemeteries for something other than being the setting of a zombie apocalypse.

We decided to scour the internet to find the most memorable cemetery in every state. Every cemetery is unique, but these 50 stood out from the rest. Whether it be the architecture, the people buried there, or the history around the plot of land, each of these cemeteries has a cool story. Check out the list to see if you’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting any of these cemeteries.

Alabama

The biggest cemetery in Alabama is also the oldest cemetery in the state. Covering close to 100 acres, Maple Hill Cemetery is the final resting place of more than 80,000 people. Many U.S. congressmen and military figures are buried here. Maple Hill Cemetery is located in Huntsville, Alabama.

Alaska

In Eklutna, Alaska, there is a cemetery outside of the St. Nicholas Orthodox Church. Here, Russian and native Alaskan traditions merged, and out of the blend came what is called “spirit houses.” Families lay their loved ones to rest, then build a spirit house on top of the grave. It’s believed that the house brings comfort to the spirit.

Arizona

Tombstone, Arizona is considered, by some, to be the most haunted place in the state. In the mid 1800s, the town mined more than $80 million in silver bullion. Many residents suffered gruesome deaths and they were all buried in the Boothill Graveyard of Tombstone. Tombstone has been featured on Travel Channel’s “Ghost Adventures” and the Syfy series “Ghost Hunters.”

Arkansas

Evergreen Cemetery in Fayetteville is one of the largest historical cemeteries in Arkansas. Evergreen was originally a family cemetery on the Thomas family farm. It has now grown to cover over ten acres and holds more than 3,000 bodies. One exceptionally interesting story of this Arkansas cemetery is that of Adeline Blakeley. Blakeley was a former slave who chose to stay with the family that enslaved her even after the Civil War ended. She continued to work for the family, but was considered to be a family member. When Blakeley died at 95, the family wanted her to be buried at the family plot in Evergreen, but at the time it was a white-only cemetery. There are two stories about how she was accepted as the first African American to be buried in the cemetery. One is that Blakeley was so well-liked by the entire community that they allowed her to be laid to rest with her family. The other is that the family kept the casket closed and told everyone it was their aunt they were burying. Either way, this is a phenomenal story.

California

So many celebrities are buried in Hollywood. Forest Lawn Memorial in Glendale particularly sticks out because it’s the oldest cemetery in Tinseltown. Celebrities including Nat King Cole, Jimmy Stewart, Gracie Allen, Sam Cooke, Theodore Dreiser, Clark Gable and Michael Jackson are all buried in Forest Lawn Cemetery.

Colorado

Riverside Cemetery opened in 1876 in Denver. It was designed to be such a beautiful cemetery that families would spend the day enjoying the scenery while visiting their loved ones. Unfortunately, Denver took a different turn and industrialized much of the surrounding area, turning the countryside into highways. Many people exhumed the bodies of their family members and took them to a more peaceful location.

Connecticut

Cedar Hill Cemetery in Hartford, Connecticut is known for its incredible sculptures and monuments throughout the grounds. There’s an 18-foot pink-granite pyramid and a lifesize statue of an angel erected in memory of Mark and Angelina Howard. A monument commemorating Cynthia Talcott, who passed away at age two, has her face beautifully engraved in stone. One notable burial at Cedar Hill is Horace Wells, the discoverer of anesthesia.

Delaware

Coffee Run Cemetery not only has a pretty unique name, but it also stands out because it is the burial ground of the first Catholic church in Delaware. This is a very small cemetery with only 50 graves, 12 of them being unmarked. The cemetery has been plagued with arson that destroyed the keeper’s house and barn.

Florida

The first Key West Cemetery in Florida was destroyed by hurricane in 1846. Bodies resurfaced and high winds and water scattered the bodies throughout the area. The new cemetery was established one year later. To keep this tragedy from happening again, many bodies are buried in above ground vaults and there is a high water table.

Georgia

Savannah is an awesome city, so it’s only fitting that there are incredible cemeteries. Bonaventure Cemetery, just east of Savannah, became famous when it was featured in Clint Eastwood’s film “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.” John Muir, “The Father of Natural Parks”, stayed in Bonaventure for six days and nights during his travels to Florida.

Hawaii

The National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, also known as the Punchbowl Cemetery, is located in Honolulu. It was created to honor the men and women who have served in the United States Armed Forces. Before the cemetery opened, the remains of veterans from Guam, Wake Island and Japanese Internment Camps were transported to Punchbowl to serve as their final resting place.

Idaho

Morris Hill Cemetery is in Boise, Idaho. The burial ground was purchased by the city’s mayor in 1882. The causes of death among those first buried at Morris are quite different than what’s common today. It’s noted that some of these people died from falling rocks and trees, snow slides, softening of the brain, and constipation. One lady buried here particularly sticks out: Annie “Peg Leg” Monroe. During the time of the Gold Rush, Monroe was a brothel owner. Apparently, she got stuck in a snowstorm, caught frostbite, and had to have both of her legs amputated. The park is open for self-guided walking tours.

Illinois

Woodlawn Cemetery is located in Forest Park, Illinois. One section of the cemetery is called Showmen’s Rest. On June 22, 1918 a train traveling from Detroit to Chicago plowed into the Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus train. The train’s engineer, the only passenger, allegedly fell asleep. Around 60 circus members were killed and were all buried in Showmen’s Rest because it was purchased specifically for members of the The Showmen’s League of America. Many of those that were killed were never identified. A majority of the markers read “unidentified male” and “unidentified female.” Apparently, members of circuses still choose to be buried there to this day.

Indiana

Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis is the third largest non-governmental cemetery in the nation. The burial grounds covers 555 acres and there are over 200,000 people buried there. In the 1800s it became a popular location for recreational activities including picnics and walks through the park. Visitors enjoy beautiful views of the city from the grounds.

Iowa

Vegors Cemetery in Lehigh, Iowa was originally used by Native Americans as a burial ground. When white settlers came into the area, many battles ensued. The settlers eventually won and took control of the sacred burial ground. They removed the Native American remains, destroyed the burial mounds, and began to use it as their own cemetery. Years later, Native American remains were returned to the cemetery and a monument was dedicated in their honor.

Kansas

Stull Cemetery, located in Lecompton, Kansas, was listed on CBS News’ list of most haunted places in America. The University of Kansas student newspaper wrote an article about Stull Cemetery claiming that the devil visits the cemetery twice a year, on Halloween and the Spring Equinox. Four years after the article was published, on March 20, 1978 over 150 people came to the cemetery to wait for the devil’s arrival. There were no reports of any sightings that night.

Kentucky

Pikeville Cemetery in Pikeville, Kentucky is known for a chilling story. In 1891, Octavia and James Hatcher welcomed their first child. Unfortunately, the baby soon passed away and Octavia grew ill and fell into a coma. Shortly thereafter, doctors pronounced her dead. Since it was a hot day, James buried her immediately. Other community members began falling into comas, but they survived. James realized that maybe Octavia was still alive when she was buried. They exhumed her body and saw scratch marks on the roof of the casket and Octavia had bloody fingers. Yikes.

Louisiana

Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1 is one of the famous cemeteries in New Orleans. Marie Laveau, the notorious voodoo practitioner, is buried in her husband’s family tomb in this cemetery. Legend says that Marie Laveau will grant you a wish if you mark three x’s on the tomb, turn around three times and yell out your wish. If it comes true, you must come back and mark a circle around the x’s. To prevent vandalism, the public is no longer allowed to visit the cemetery without a tour guide.

Maine

Mount Hope Cemetery in Bangor, Maine is one of the locations Stephen King used to shoot the horror film “Pet Sematary.” Mount Hope is 184 years old and was America’s second garden cemetery.

Maryland

Green Mount Cemetery is located in Baltimore. The cemetery was dedicated in 1839 and is the final resting place of important historical figures, like John Wilkes Booth. Visitors ironically leave pennies on his grave, because it has Abraham Lincoln’s face on it. There are intricate statues and monuments throughout the cemetery. Tourists can schedule a walking tour of the grounds.

Massachusetts

Charter Street Cemetery in Salem, founded in 1637, is the oldest cemetery in the town. Important members of the early community are buried in this cemetery. Directly behind the cemetery is the Salem Witch Trial Memorial. Both are open to the public from dawn to dusk.

Michigan

Elmwood Cemetery in Detroit has been awarded a wide array of certifications. It’s the oldest continuously running, non-denominational cemetery in the state. Since there are so many abolitionists buried in Elmwood, the cemetery’s foundation decided to fulfill the requirements to become a significant site for the National Underground Railroad Network to Freedom by the National Park Service of the United States Department of the Interior.

Minnesota

Oakland Cemetery in St. Pauls is the oldest public cemetery in Minnesota. It was founded five years before Minnesota became a state, in 1853. The first plots sold for just $3.15. In 1870, survivors of the Civil War organized Decoration Day, what is now known as Memorial Day, at Oakland Cemetery. More than 1,500 veterans are buried at this cemetery.

Mississippi

There are many interesting tombstones and monuments in Natchez City Cemetery in Natchez, Mississippi, but one tomb stands out from the rest. Florence Ford was only ten when she died from yellow fever in 1871. Apparently, Florence was always scared of storms. In order to comfort her in the afterlife, her mother had Florence’s casket built with clear glass at the head and steps that went down to the level of the casket. Overhead, the doors closed to protect her mother from the storm. The contraption is still visible today, but the glass was covered with cement to prevent vandalism.

Missouri

Mineral Creek Cemetery in St. Louis Prairie has an interesting origin story. A couple was traveling West with their young children. Unfortunately, one of the children passed away while they were passing through this small town. Much of the area is covered with tall prairie grass, but the town was constructing a new church, so that area was clear. The couple gained permission from the church to bury their child on the property. From there on, people began to bury their loved ones at the church and the congregation took take of the cemetery until it grew too large for them to continue to do so.

Montana

On June 8, 1917, 168 men were killed in the Spectacular Mine disaster in Butte, Montana. A fire was ignited by a carbide lamp. Most of the men died of asphyxiation, but some survived for a couple days in the tunnels. A few lucky men were rescued after being stuck underground for 55 hours. The remains of the men were buried in Mountain View Cemetery where there is a memorial to the victims of the disaster.

Nebraska

Ball Cemetery in Springfield, Nebraska is said to be guarded by William “Rattlesnake Pete” Liddiard. One small catch: Rattlesnake Pete is dead. He was a United States Marshal who left his hometown to join the famous “Buffalo Bill” on the road. Although he died along the West Coast, his body was returned to Springfield. According to local legend, he now he patrols the perimeter of the cemetery and appears to unwanted visitors as a dark shadow.

Nevada

Goldfield Historic Cemetery in Goldfield, Nevada is one of the many ghost town cemeteries located in the state. Although visitors would never guess it today, Goldfield was one of the largest mining towns in the country. It’s known as “The Last Great Gold Camp.” Many of the headstones describe how the person died: “Gunshot By Deputy Sheriff”, “Man Died Eating Library Paste.”

New Hampshire

The two victims of the Smuttynose Island murders are buried in South Cemetery of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Three immigrant women were left alone on the island off the coast of New Hampshire. One woman got away from the attacker and she was able to identify him and the man was later hanged for his crimes.

New Jersey

The Old Tennent Cemetery in Manalapan, New Jersey was established in 1731. It’s said that a Revolutionary War battle occurred in 1778 on the cemetery grounds, and the church was used as a makeshift hospital. The battle was called the Battle of Monmouth after the county Manalapan is in.

New Mexico

Fairview Cemetery in Santa Fe, New Mexico has become overrun by a prairie dog colony. These rodents sought refuge in the cemetery after construction drove them out of their original habitat. The prairie dogs have created a series of tunnels, which has resulted in the resurfacing of remains of the people buried there. The groundskeeper has taken matters into his own hands by using poisonous gas and a pellet gun to kill off the rodents.

New York

Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Sleepy Hollow is the cemetery and town that inspired Washington Irving’s “Sleepy Hollow.” The town was originally known as North Tarrytown, but was changed in 1996 to honor Irving. Along with Elizabeth Arden, the makeup entrepreneur, and Walter Chrysler, the founder of the car company, Irving is also buried here.

North Carolina

Salem Moravian Graveyard, located in Salem, North Carolina is also known as God’s Acre. Every Moravian cemetery takes on this nickname. What sets this cemetery apart from others is that, following Moravian tradition, every headstone is exactly the same: a flat white plaque. This is because this Protestant sect believes that everyone has the same level of importance in God’s eyes; in death, all are equal. Over its course of 250 years in existence, over 7,000 people have been buried in God’s Acre of Salem.

North Dakota

Riverside Cemetery in Fargo, North Dakota is the oldest in the area. The first burial took place in 1878 and the cemetery was established in 1879. The original owners of the hallowed ground were respected members of the Fargo community.

Ohio

The Athens Lunatic Asylum, now known as The Ridges in Athens, Ohio, has three on-site cemeteries. When patients would die while admitted to the hospital, families were able to make their own arrangements, but if the family could not be contacted or if they refused to come, the patient would be buried on hospital grounds. The headstones given to the deceased have no names or dates, only the patient’s hospital number. There are 1,930 men and women buried at The Ridges.

Oklahoma

Violet Springs Cemetery in Konawa, Oklahoma is the final resting place of a woman named Katherine Cross. According to her headstone, she was 18 when she died and she was “murdered by human wolves.” That’s a pretty cryptic message, but historians say that Cross actually died from a botched abortion, not werewolves.

Oregon

Lone Fir Cemetery in Portland, Oregon is the city’s oldest and largest cemetery. The land was originally owned by James and Elizabeth Stephens; James’ father was buried on the property. The Stephens sold their farm to Colburn Barrel, who owned a steamboat. Years after, Barrel’s steamboat exploded, killing his business partner and many others. Barrel buried the victims alongside James’ father and thus began the Lone Fir Cemetery. It has grown to span over 30 acres and there are over 250,000 people buried in this Portland cemetery.

Pennsylvania

Hankey Church Cemetery in Murrysville, Pennsylvania is supposedly where a pastor of the Hankey Church was hanged for adultery in the 19th century.

Rhode Island

Mercy Brown is a pivotal figure in the New England Vampire Panic. In the 19th century, tuberculosis was spreading like wildfire. The people of New England began to believe that when a family member died from tuberculosis, they drained the rest of their family with the sickness in order to hang on to life, thus being a vampire. The only way to prevent the rest of the family from suffering the disease was to exhume the “vampire’s” body. If they still had blood in their organs or they were still in the early stages of decomposition, although they had been dead for a while, they were considered to be a vampire. From there, the body’s organs were removed and burned, and occasionally decapitated. In Brown’s case, her body was burnt, her remains were mixed with water, and given to her brother to drink to keep the sickness from attacking his body. It obviously didn’t work.

South Carolina

The St. Philip’s Cemetery in Charleston, South Carolina was created for the first congregation in the state, the St. Philip’s Episcopal Church. One interesting story about the property is that in the 18th century, the church suffered a fire. A slave extinguished the fire before the entire church was engulfed. For this heroic act, the slave was awarded his freedom.

South Dakota

Mount Moriah Cemetery is found in Deadwood, South Dakota. It was created to suit the growing population during the Gold Rush. There are many divisions of the cemetery that is built into the side of a mountain. There’s a section specifically for the Jewish community, a mass grave site for victims of a mining fire, veterans, and unfortunately a portion just for children.

Tennessee

Old Gray Cemetery in downtown Knoxville, Tennessee was designed to last for centuries. Founded in 1850, the cemetery reflects the history of Knoxville. The cemetery is the final resting place to people of all walks of life, which can be seen in the diverse monuments, mausoleums and unmarked graves.

Texas

Baby Head Cemetery is located in what is now known as Llano, Texas. The cemetery and town, that was also formerly known as Baby Head, were named after Baby Head Mountain. According to local legend, Native Americans abducted a small child from the town and left her remains at the base of the mountain, thus Baby Head Mountain. The first person to be buried in Baby Head Cemetery was, yet another, young girl named Jodie McKneely in 1884.

Utah

Ogden City Cemetery in Ogden, Utah stands out because of its breathtaking scenery. This is a place anyone could rest eternally for the beautiful views alone. The cemetery was established in 1851.

Vermont

Evergreen Cemetery in New Haven, Vermont is a pretty standard cemetery, aside from Dr. Timothy Clark’s tomb. Dr. Clark lived in fear of being buried alive. To prevent his worst nightmare from coming true, he installed an underground staircase that leads to the surface of his grave. He was buried with a breathing tube and a bell. At the surface level of his grave, he had a clear window installed so he could be checked in on. He died in 1893 and apparently he really was dead because he didn’t use his escape route.

Virginia

The Alexandria National Cemetery in Alexandria, Virginia was one of the country’s first national cemeteries. It mainly serves as burial grounds for Union soldiers. It’s lack of vacancy during, and after, the Civil War is what led to the opening of the Arlington National Cemetery.

Washington

Black Diamond Cemetery was established in Black Diamond, Washington in 1886. That’s three years before Washington even became a state. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2000. The cemetery is made up of coal miners and their families.

West Virginia

Soule Chapel Methodist Cemetery in Meadow Bluff, West Virginia is the final resting place of a woman named Zona Heaster Shue. According to local legend, shortly after her mysterious death, Zona’s ghost appeared to her mother and recounted that she had been brutally murdered by her husband. Zona’s mother went to the police and they exhumed her body. Due to the details Zona’s told her mother, the police were able to convict Zona’s husband of murdering her.

Wisconsin

Forest Home Cemetery in Milwaukee was established in 1847. It was later discovered that this land was also a Paleo Indian burial ground. The cemetery has over 60 earthworks, or mounds that hold the bodies of early Native Americans. This cemetery is so rich in history, holding the bodies of famous politicians and mayors as well as Jacob Best, the founder of Pabst Brewing Company.

Wyoming

Sacajawea’s Cemetery on the Wind River Indian Reservation in Fort Washakie is the final resting place of one of the most famous women in American history: Sacajawea. This Native American woman guided famous explorers Lewis and Clark on their expedition across America. Six years after their journey, Sacagawea died after giving birth to her daughter. One little known fact is that eight years after Sacagawea died, Lewis adopted both of her children.

Every cemetery deserves recognition, but what is the most memorable cemetery you have been in and what made it so unforgettable? Let us know in the comments below!

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