's motd Thursday February 3, 2011

[Guest guest]

FOREST LAWN

Thursday, 03 February 2011

Tuesday was a tough day for me.

See, I'm not one who spends a lot of time at

cemeteries. But on Tuesday, I was attending a

memorial service for my dear friend, Jack Lalanne and

it meant a trip to Forest Lawn Cemetery. I'm sure

it's the biggest cemetery in all of Los Angeles. But,

in spite of my hang-ups about cemeteries, it was my

honor to attend Jacks's memorial.

And when did cemeteries become a

problem for me? Well you see, when I was a little kid

back in New Orleans, we lived just a few blocks away

from one of the city's oldest cemeteries. I had to

walk past it on occasion and, I have to tell you,

every time I did, I got a little bit squeamish. There

was just something about that cemetery that always

made me kinda scared.

Well one day, some of the boys from my elementary

school decided to play a little joke on old Dickey.

(Actually, it wasn't so "little".) Their story was

that they wanted to show me this very "special place"

in the French Quarter but, in order to see it, I would

have to wear a blindfold to get there. They assured

me that it would be a lot of fun and, silly me, I fell

for it.

I donned my blindfold, we walked a

couple of blocks together and, oddly enough, I

remember hearing what sound like a big gate opening.

The other boys then announced to me..."We're

here!" Then they all began laughing and yelled

to me..."Have a nice time in the cemetery,

!"

WHAT?! When I removed the blindfold, I

couldn't believe it, I was actually standing

inside that cemetery! I was frightened almost,

well...to death! The other boys were

standing outside the gate now laughing and pointing at

me. They assured me that I'd never be able

to get out. Oh, I was now truly...terrified!

I ran up to the gate and tried my best to open it.

But it was locked tight! By now, a panic attack was

settling in. I got down on my knees and began to pray

on the spot. I got up then tried, again and again, to

get that rickety old cemetery gate open. Every

attempt I made to open the gate failed and then I

began screaming! My parents didn't know where I was

and, of course I couldn't get in touch with them.

Hey, there were no cell phones back then and no

payphone in the cemetery either!

Many of you may not be aware that

in New Orleans, people are buried above ground because

our city's water table is so high. So there I was,

trapped in this huge old cemetery surrounded by tombs,

headstones and these eerie statues of angels...all

staring at me!

Within a few more minutes, I heard something...footsteps!

I began screaming, "Help me! Please, somebody

help me get out of here!"

Lo-and-behold, a man appeared outside the gate and was

staring back in at me. "Well hey there, young

fellow, what are you doing in there," he

asked. I explained to the man what my friends had

done and he told me not to worry. He played with the

gate from his side, trying, without success to get it

open. Finally, he told me to stand right by the gate

and to not move until he got back. (Hey, like he had

to worry?) He worked at the church across the street

from the cemetery and went to get something to help

him open the gate.

He returned with a hammer in his

hand, hit the gate in a couple of strategic places

then viola and thank goodness, he

was able to open the gate! I was free and so grateful

to the man who'd freed me. He asked where I lived and

even walked me back home, to good old 926 St. Louis

Street.

That experience has stayed locked in my head for all

of these years. And if I wasn't apprehensive about

cemeteries before, what those classmates of mine did

to me had really sealed the deal! All of these years

since, I've visited a cemetery only once in my life,

and that was to say good-bye to my sweet mother,

Shirley.

But on Tuesday, I allowed my fears to "rest in

peace." There I was rolling up to Forest Lawn

Cemetery to say a final farewell to my dear friend,

Jack Lalanne. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow.

Love,