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Last night we ventured to the San Jacinto Battleground to witness the grounds being softly illuminated by over 21,500 luminarias.
Each candle represented a Texan lost in battle from the Texas Revolution through the war in Afghanistan.
In the Texas Revolution alone, 1,700 Texans perished.
Over 100 volunteers laid the luminarias out along a three-mile-long trail and grounds. Photos simply can’t capture how beautiful, moving and humbling the experience was.
Simply stunning.
Welcome to Terlingua Cemetery, in Terlingua Texas.
To those who are more accustomed to manicured cemeteries with vast green lawns, this place appears to be abandoned, but Terlingua cemetery is still in use today.
It’s one of the most photographed graveyards in the state of Texas, which should come as no surprise.
I’ve wanted to visit this amazing burial ground since I was a child, so to have the opportunity to roam through it – left alone with my thoughts and wonder about those who rest here – was a true privilege. There are the well-known, the unknown and the surprise of finding the grave of someone I knew personally in college. It was an astounding experience.
Terlingua was one of the most remote areas in North America at the time it was founded. It still remains set apart from more populated areas.
The cemetery encompasses one acre in the Terlingua Ghost Town – which isn’t really a ghost town at all. True . . . the town used to be the site of a quicksilver mining camp and place where desert folk called home beginning in the 1880s, but it’s now more of an artist community and a low key tourist base for visiting Big Bend National Park.
Marked graves date back to 1903, but burials began back when the dangerous process of mercury mining began here. Mine collapses, mercury poisoning and later influeza and tuberculosis epidemics populated the cemetery.
Conservative estimates say that there are about 400 burials in the cemetery: Men, women, and children. Miners, goat herders, artists, housewives, ranch hands, cooks, bootleggers, day laborers, war veterans, clergy, even murder victims. About 90 percent of those who rest here are of Hispanic heritage.
Those that were victims of mining accidents were sometimes laid to rest in coffins made by the companies they worked for.
Many of the gravesites have lost their markers, or they have simply become illegible over time. Some have all but vanished due to relentless weather and relic hunters.
Others reflect the character and sometimes humor of those who they remember. A Hobbit hole, a metal T-Rex, and epitaph of “Another good man done gone.” They all lure visitors into slowing down to take in the silent stories of the cemetery.
The Mining town was abandoned in the 1940s. That’s when Terlingua became a true ghost town . . . years before it became home to artists and others who tired of life in overcrowded communities . . . and eventually the visits of countless curious tourists on their way to Big Bend.
Visitors are fascinated by the variety of burial markers and folk art memorials, and of course – the stunning View of Chisos Mountains and Sierra del Carmens as a backdrop.
Each year an elaborate celebration takes place here to mark Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead, giving the living a chance to honor and remember the departed.
Walking into Terlingua cemetery is like walking into a time warp. If a visit to this fascinating place doesn’t make a person stop and reflect . . . I’m not sure what would.
Join me for a stroll through the grounds of this historic cemetery in my Youtube video of the cemetery HERE.
