|Elizabeth leads the way through the Necropolis as Glasgow looms.|
The graves have taken over a steep hill like spiky stone hairs.
"It's like a giant army standing at attention at the top of a hill," Elizabeth said as we reached the crest. It felt more to me like being in the presence of an oversized, morbid chess set.
|Like disciplined soldiers on the front line.|
The grave markers overlook central Glasgow and its majestic cathedral (although we can only confirm its majesty from the outside because it's closed to visitors this week.)
|Some dead guy's view of the cathedral (left) and the Royal Infirmary. Convenient location to the graveyard, huh?|
And this cemetery contains the final resting place of some of Glasgow's most notable figures, such as:
- John Knox, a 16th century homicidal, sword-wielding Protestant priest
- William Miller of Wee Willie Winkie fame -- as in the nursery rhyme.
|Big Wee Willie.|
- And theater owner and actor John Henry Alexander, whose epitaph was almost worthy of the Bard himself -- and conveniently left out that 65 people got trampled and died when someone falsely shouted fire in 1849.
|A whole lot nicer than "Here lies ..."|
I guess that's why they don't let journalists write for tombstones.