The
Columbarium:

By
Mary C. McFadden
Superstitious
homeowners in San Francisco's Richmond District might be unnerved
to discover that their homes are built on a graveyard. The still extant
Columbarium on Loraine Court off of Anza was originally the centerpiece
of a 167-acre cemetery and crematorium. The Richmond District was
entirely cemeteries until a 1901 law made burial illegal in San Francisco,
and other laws in the 1930s mandated the removal of the graves to
newly created Colma.
The word "columbarium" comes from the Latin
word "columba," meaning "dovecote," a compartmentalized shelter for
domestic pigeons. Rather than house living, breeding birds, a columbarium
houses the ashes of the deceased in separate niches.
Built in 1897 by British architect Bernard
J. Cahill for the Odd Fellows' cemetery, San Francisco's Columbarium
is the last of its kind still in use in this country. The building
was abandoned in 1934 and lay dormant until 1979 when it was rescued
and restored by the Neptune Society.
According to caretaker Emmitt Watson, when
the Neptune Society purchased the property, raccoons denned in alcoves,
doves and pigeons nested in the eaves. The roof leaked profusely,
allowing fungus, including mushrooms, to grow everywhere. "It was
spooky," he recalled. But Watson was simply "afraid of the ugliness,
not of the dead people."
The
San Francisco Chronicle in June 1939 tells the horror story of
vagrants and thieves who raided the abandoned cemetery vaults, stealing
silver handles from coffins, robbing the dead of dignity as well as
their final possessions:
"Here,
during the cemetery's abandoned years...tramps piled up their pots
and pans, set up their cooking utensils for a macabre type of housekeeping.
Some even say that these dank vaults were hideouts for bootleggers,
during the prohibition years.
"Other
ghouls have wreaked havoc. Bronze and iron-grilled doors of other
ornate marble and granite above-ground vaults have been pried open.
Inside all is shambles. Flower urns have been ripped from wall braces,
coffins hacked open, bones strewn about."
According
to Mr. Watson, the Columbarium has been "about 75% restored." The
amount of Victorian detail is staggering, so restoration and maintenance
take time. The ongoing work is evident in the uppermost of the three
floors where the plaster has cracked and the ornamentation has been
partially replaced. The walls, windows, tiled floors, and metalwork
of the ground floor and first floor have been repaired and are lovingly
maintained.
The
Columbarium is a round building with small, square wings on the sides.
Services are held in the three-story central rotunda. Soft light filters
through a golden web-leaded skylight high overhead. Ancillary rooms
named Zephrus, Olympus, Arktos, Aquilo, Solanus, Eurius, Auster, Notus‹the
Greek winds‹surround the ground floor. The constellations Corona,
Zubanan, Cheiron, Argo, Sothis, Orion, and Perseus look out from the
next level. The less expensive top floor is functional, brightened
by incidental light from stairwells and ornamented solely by the alcoves.
Each
alcove is numbered by floor, section, row, and box. A few typed tags
stick to simple doorways. Red and yellow stickers mark reserved spots.
Cardboard placards behind clear glass announce availability. Only
250 spots are left, so a new building is under construction.
Every
windowed, metal-doored, or draped hollow is secure. Historical San
Francisco names like Page and Haight are written in gold leaf outside
their large alcoves. Some of the spaces are decorated with tributes,
mementos, and photos. Sealed
inside are belt buckles, baseballs, shot glasses, sheet music, doll
furniture, toy cars, keno tickets, bingo cards, crystals, martini
shakers, medals, and jewelry. Outside are real flowers and fabric
flowers, plastic leis, bowls of oranges, origami cranes, birthday
cards, even guestbooks.
Each
niche holds a container for ashes. Containers are elaborate or simple,
whimsical or solemn. Some remains rest in cookie jars or piggy banks,
others in engraved silver, brass, or marble urns. Urns and markers
date from the 1890s to the building's abandonment in 1934 and after
1980.
Signs
of the original owners of the Columbarium are ensconced here in the
several oxidized copper trees of the "Woodsmen of the World," a fraternity
of the Masonic Order. A large number of spaces are occupied by gay
men, single and in couples‹a poignant reminder of the apex of the
AIDS epidemic. The Case Family (1849-1914) has a large alcove. Mrs.
Wolf lies alone.
Memorial
services are held here. So are parties. There have been funerals and
weddings, tears and laughter. Mourning doves still live here, perched
in trees, cooing to visitors. The stuff of life resides even in places
of the dead.
The
Columbarium, located at 1 Loraine Court, is operated by the Neptune
Society. It is open daily. Call (415) 221-1838 for more information.