We live our life in a manner that is similar to our neighbors, yet it is so very personal. We reach a fork in the road where we take a right and our friend takes a left. Careers are varied, thoughts so uncommon. I like chocolate and you like vanilla. But we live together in the same world, in the same country, in the same state, in the same town and perhaps on the same road. Intriguing to think we are alike yet so very different.
It is our life that dictates our death. It is a fateful day that we do not want to talk about because it brings unhappy thoughts. We simply do not want to think about that last day. But it is something that each person experiences, for better or worse. Some embrace heaven and believe in a better place while some do not. I understand and appreciate the opinions of people that wish to decide their demise on their own terms. Yet, sometimes there are thoughts and instructions written and recorded, dictating with strict and precise terms what must happen when one passes away. I speak about that last wish.
We have our wills and we have our testaments. We have our families and we have our friends. We sometimes tell people close to us about our last wish, but sometimes we do not. It is something that is not discussed and it remains a secret until that day comes when we live our last moment here on Earth.
Today I will share with you that unique last wish that three people in Concord desired. They lived at different times in history spanning a century, but their common bond is that last wish. It was a little different and perhaps deemed eccentric, but a wish it was. These three made a choice to have the hours following their deaths depicted in a manner per their strict instructions. These three made a choice to make sure their wishes were honored once they passed.
My first visit brings us to the Blossom Hill Cemetery in the late 1930s. A gentleman with the last name of Abbott had passed away, and upon his death he left a last wish. You see, he lived in fear of being buried alive. A fear that consumed his moments and a fear that he wished to escape with some logical thinking. Mr. Abbott purchased his lot at Blossom Hill Cemetery and designed his burial in graphic detail. A slab was set upon the earth and four stone walls were erected. Atop the four walls, a stone roof was set. Mr. Abbott was to be placed in his coffin and his casket slid into the end of this above-ground structure. Once he was placed within the vault, it was sealed with stone. This in itself would seemed to be a sufficient manner of burial that offered some comfort. But Mr. Abbott decided he must take some additional steps just in case. The seal of stone was thin enough to be broken from within. That last wish asked for a hammer, shovel and pick to be buried in the vault along with one more item — a telephone.
Our next “last wish” brings us to the Old North Cemetery in Concord, which features over 2,000 burials and is the oldest cemetery in the city. It has provided eternal rest for almost three centuries to a president and his family, governors, senators, businessmen, the enslaved, ministers and veterans dating back to the Revolutionary War. It is also home to a very prominent abolitionist named Nathaniel Peabody Rogers. Rogers was a prominent attorney with a passion that brought much sacrifice. He parted with wealth in search of freedom for the oppressed and established the Herald of Freedom anti-slave newspaper, where he served as editor. Rogers was also an activist for other causes that he believed in such as the temperance movement, women’s rights and animal rights.
Rogers lived his life in a manner he deeply desired and his thoughts of death were of a concern. Rogers was born on June 3, 1794, and passed away on Oct. 16, 1846. His last wishes brought attention to his cause, even in death. Rogers left instructions with his wish to be buried in the Old North Cemetery, a simple enough request. But he further requested that no gravestone be erected until the slaves were free. His last wish was respected: His gravestone was not erected until slavery ended. Engraved upon his stone at the Old North Cemetery we find words quite fitting for this respected abolitionist: “Here lies all that could die of Nathaniel Peabody Rogers, patriot, lawyer, journalist, friend of the slave.”
Our third visit and final “last wish” brings us back to Sept. 22, 1942, also in Concord. This last wish was placed by a beloved and respected individual named John W. Storrs. He died on a Saturday night at the age of 83. The people of Concord held much respect for Storrs, so much so that he was elected mayor of Concord for five consecutive terms. Storrs was a gentleman that wished to pass without fanfare and services that would be excessive. He left a last wish that would allow the citizens of Concord some closure but within a limited time.
The mayor requested a band play a concert for just 20 minutes in his memory. Storrs personally contacted Band Director Herbert W. Rainie just before to his death with his last wish. The band played for precisely 20 minutes at the funeral home with immediate family and close friends and sang some selected hymns. The customary eulogy was to be omitted and the mayor also requested no minister preside over his funeral. He wished to be cremated after this brief service and band performance. His family honored his last wish with one exception. The family requested the Reverand J. Wayne Haskell, pastor of the White Memorial Universalist Church, to pronounce the benediction.
As I walk the old cemeteries around Concord, I often stop and read interesting epitaphs. Some are brief while others are long. We read the deeply cut engravings that leave a little history behind. But it is the last wish that remains elusive. As we age and experience life, for better or for worse, we have our opinions relating to our very last moments. Yes, it is our life that dictates our death.