Wildflowers for the dead at Sutherland Springs Cemetery
How did I forget the name Sutherland Springs? While passing through this town of 600 people on my wildflower drive last Thursday, a riotous carpet of flowers caught my eye. I hit the brakes and pulled into Sutherland Springs Cemetery, then got out of my car to bask in the beauty. Jewel-bright wildflowers — bluebonnets, phlox, Indian paintbrush — flowed in broad rivers around the gravestones, symbolic of life and rebirth among the memorials to the dead.
Did someone sow wildflower seeds here last fall — if so, what a stroke of genius — or did the plants colonize the cemetery naturally? I wondered about this as I walked the periphery.
I spotted newer tombstones among hundred-year-old markers, but I didn’t read many of them.
As I drove away I noticed a historic marker and made a mental note to look up the cemetery’s history when I got home.
When I did, I felt a shock of recollection. How could I have forgotten that tiny Sutherland Springs occupied our national consciousness for a few weeks in early November 2017, when yet another mass shooting happened here — this time, even more horrifically, of worshippers with small children attending church service.
My online search turned up a New York Times article about how the cemetery’s caretakers struggled to handle the burials of so many people all at once, following the slaughter of 26 men, women, and children.
It was heartbreaking all over again. The poignant, transitory beauty of wildflowers among the graves makes me weep for the people of Sutherland Springs who must somehow carry on, and for all of us as we bear witness to so many mass shootings that we forget their names when the next one comes along.
I don’t get into politics here, and I’m not going to start now. (Although why gun violence by mostly disaffected young men has become a partisan issue I do not understand.) But I will say there’s something deeply wrong with our fatalistic response to these recurring nightmares, and we need to find the collective will to take action. Let’s try lots of things to see what makes a difference. What could it hurt?
After all, we are all in this together. We are all Sutherland Springs.
All material © 2024 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.
Not only is this an amazing tribute to those who have passed, but it’s also a wonderful environmentally-friendly way to plant a cemetery instead of lawn. Just lovely!
I agree with you. Native Wildflower and fruit tree plantings should be the default treatment for cemeteries.
Beautiful, and very sad. I too had forgotten why the name stood out, and your comments resonate deeply. I hope the beauty of the flowers brings some peace to the citizens of Sutherland Springs as well as their families and friends.
I can only agree with what Cynthia and Maggie C have said. The wildflowers are stunning, almost beautiful enough to wipe out the pain.
poignant and beautiful beyond words: thank you.
Wow, the wildflowers are unbelievable and it’s so sad to revisit the Sutherland Springs history. Thanks for this post.
That’s the most beautiful cemetery I’ve ever seen. The town’s name didn’t spark an immediate recollection from me either but I do remember how that horrific event shook me to the core, even when I was beginning to think I’d become cynically fatalistic about the issue we as a nation have yet to address constructively. Thanks for sharing both your photos and the story, Pam.
What a beautiful, peaceful spot. You captured it and captioned it so well. I always enjoy your emails and Instagram posts, with excellent photography and well-written texts.
Thank you all for your comments!