Oakland Cemetery | Andokides' Porch

Historic Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta describes itself, in part, as an “outstanding example of a Victorian garden cemetery. It is also a magnificent sculpture garden, botanical garden, flourishing wildlife habitat, public park and picturesque setting for quiet reflection.” Founded in 1850, Oakland Cemetery is the final resting place for such luminaries as Bobby Jones (the golfer), almost thirty Atlanta mayors, and Margaret Mitchell.

Oakland Cemetery is fascinating for its integration. Within the cemetery, different groups are segregated in their separate sections—Confederate soldiers and Union soldiers, blacks and whites, Christians and Jews—but they’re all there in the same cemetery, highly unusual, especially for a cemetery with its origins in the nineteenth century.

Perhaps the most impressive thing about Oakland Cemetery is how it functions. A place for burying the dead, Oakland is an unexpectedly lively place. In the late 19th century, according to the Oakland Cemetery Foundation, Oakland was "a popular destination for Sunday carriage rides and picnics." As is common in Europe, Oakland today serves as a park, as a place to jog or walk the dog, a place to sit and read; there are concerts in the cemetery (“Tunes from the Tombs”); there are special Halloween tours. It’s a repository of beautiful cemetery sculpture and the cemetery is a gorgeously landscaped garden. It’s a wonderful meditative spot in the middle of Atlanta.

On May 16, my friend André, who had driven from Oklahoma to take care of me following surgery, and I were given our own private tour of Oakland--my first tour, though I’ve been in the cemetery many times—by a friend of mine from high school who had recently been certified as a docent and was eager to give a practice tour before giving her first official, paid tours on the coming weekend.

For more photos of our walk through Oakland, click here.

Andokides' Porch

When the people sat around on the porch and passed around the pictures of their thoughts for the others to look at and see, it was nice. The fact that the thought pictures were always crayon enlargements of life made it even nicer to listen to. -- Zora Neale Hurston