Ann Cannon: Tales from the Salt Lake City Cemetery  Published
October 30, 2013 9:21 am  I loved cemeteries when I was a kid.
Not just at Halloween. All year round. I loved them for their
Creep Factor. Kids I knew used to visit the Mapleton Cemetery in
the middle of the night to visit "Reggie's Grave." The story
went that Reggie was killed in an automobile accident after
playing with a Quija board, and if you looked at his tombstone
just right you would see ghostly car lights flickering there.  I
know! Shades of Stephen King's Christine!  (Moral of the story?
Friends don't let friends who play with Ouija boards drive.)  I
still love cemeteries and often visit them whenever we travel,
but now instead of looking for chill thrills, I'm intrigued by
what cemeteries tell us about our fellow human beings — who they
were and what they valued. I count it as a piece of good fortune
that the old Salt Lake City Cemetery, with its spreading pine
boughs and crazy quilt of tombstones, practically sits in my
backyard here i