WARNING: this is a very sarcastic post.
Yesterday afternoon, Juan and I decided to go do some genealogy research at some cemeteries in Philadelphia; my grandmother had sent me some names of ancestors to search for (dating back to the 1800s) and some possible locations of their gravestones. We left around 6:30, hoping to be back home by 8:00 so we could chat with our families via webcam.
After arriving at the first place on our route, we realized it was not going to be that easy.
The church looked
very abandoned and there was no way we were going to be able to get into the lot by driving, so we searched for a back entrance. We lucked out and found the alley that led to the back of the church. When we arrived to what was
supposedly the grounds where my relatives' graves were, we saw nothing but a dense carpet of greenery. It was like a jungle in there. We searched and searched for any signs of graves, but it wasn't long before we knew there would be no way to tell unless we forged through the thick vines on foot. We weren't about to do that because we're not
that adventurous, so we drove around the block until we found someone who looked "old-timey" enough to tell us where the cemetery was. He said that the city relocated a bunch of headstones to a different cemetery when he was a kid, probably about 60 years ago.
Just our luck.
Oh well, we had another cemetery to visit, so we got on our way. This is where the juicy part of the story begins...
We found the cemetery in good time and were surprised at how stately and well-maintained it was. We drove right on through the gates and started our search for the West, Shepherd, and Hudson family headstones. Juan spotted some Hudson and West gravestones pretty quickly and we excitedly copied the information and took pictures of the markers. After another 45 minutes of searching, we decided that it was going to get dark soon and we were hungry for dinner (we had eaten a late lunch.) Juan drove back through the cemetery the way we had entered and pulled up to the gate around 8:00 pm.
The gate was closed and someone had locked us in.
What do you do in a situation like that? Well, we decided there was probably another way out, so we drove around the vast grounds for another 15 minutes, until we realized there was NOT another exit. Next step: call the grounds office, as there was not a soul in sight (ha ha ha... cemetery... soul...!) After doing a Google search for the number on our cell phones (technology is amazing), we called and were answered with a voicemail machine. It was around this point in time that I started thinking that we were going to have to call 911, but Juan kept his cool. We drove back to the gate and spotted an alarm company sign, bearing a faded phone number. Juan called the number, and was told by the nice recorded voice that the line had been disconnected. We drove back to the office (which was closed until 9 the next morning) and found
another alarm company sign with a different phone number. This proved to be more helpful and after Juan was answered by an actual person, we knew that it was a more promising possibility that we would break free from the cemetery
that night. The operator told us that she would contact the curators and tell them the situation. She called back in 10 minutes and told us that they were sending someone right away.
So we waited. Patiently.
30 minutes later, we decided that they weren't coming, so we called the alarm company
again. They tried calling the curator again; after another 10 minutes, they called us back and told us that someone had been sent 15 minutes ago to open the gate. Well, this was 45 minutes after the original phone call, so we were skeptical and getting more and more frustrated.
An hour had passed since the time we had pulled up to the gate, and the Chavez family was not in good spirits. What had started as a quick family search, was turning out to be a slew of sarcastic remarks. Luckily, Siena had remained calm the whole time... which was surprising because she was probably starving. While waiting, we had raided the little tupperware of cereal I keep in my bag for her. She was so kind to share with mami and papi, and she didn't complain when we sneaked another bite.
Eventually, we decided that we should call the Philadelphia Police Department, and after another Google search, we retreived that number (or what we
thought to be that number.) A voice recording of Mayor Nutter's voice came on. No, that was NOT the Philadelphia Police Department's number. So we tried a different phone number. This time, someone answered, but he did
not sound like he was in a big hurry to help. After asking us a lot of details about our story and situation, he told us that he couldn't do anything for us, but that he would transfer us to 911.
After all that, it just took a 911 call from the beginning?
Well, even
that turned out to be fruitless. I was transferred from dispatcher to dispatcher, until the third time when someone finally decided to take on the "cemetery girl" assignment. The funny thing is that the dispatchers whom I had previously spoken with were still on the line, in our conversation. Ten minutes into our phone call, I started showing signs of my frustration over the phone. These two or three women were
gettin' all up in my grill with questions like "Well, why didn't you tell someone you were going there?" (Like
that would have made a difference. We did tell someone... our families... in Utah.) "Who do you think locked you in?" (The boogie man.) "Why would you even
go inside a cemetery?" (And when I used the word 'ancestors', they didn't understand what that meant. When I finally used the word 'relatives', they started to catch on. Come on people, cemeteries are
not just about ghosts and goblins.) "Didn't you see the sign with the Hours of Operation?" (No, there was NOT a sign ANYWHERE telling us that at if we weren't out by 8:00 pm, we would have to spend the night there. No signs, and nobody responsible enough to check to see if anyone was still inside the grounds before they locked the gates.) This was my favorite question: "Well, what are you doing in a cemetery so late at night?" (Uh, it's been an hour and 15 minutes since we went to
leave the place. It wasn't late an hour and 15 minutes ago when they locked us in.) I was still answering ridiculous questions like this when out of nowhere, a man casually
walked up to the gate with a key in his hand and unlocks the gate. No questions, no apologies, no explanations. He just opened the gate, and we drove out without a single exchange of words.
In the meantime, I had told the 911 ladies that I was going to set the whole cemetery on fire so someone would finally come to our rescue. And if that didn't work, I would probably call the local news.
Okay, I didn't
really do that. But it was my next option.