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The Strange Case of Death and Property

Little did I know, finding a tombstone would teach me some very strange things about the city that I live in and death in general.  To recap, last week I found a tombstone laying on the side of the road in front of a construction site.

Like I mentioned in my last post, my mom is really into genealogy.  She looked up the names on the stone and found that the people listed were buried at Comet Lodge Cemetery.

Wait!  What?  Really?  This Comet Lodge?

After finding this out, I had a bit of a fire lit under my behind.  I was sure someone would want to put this stone back where it belonged.  I emailed the organization who was responsible for reconstructing Comet Lodge and got no response.  Then I messaged a similar group on Facebook.  They suggested contacting a local cemetery.  So I finally got some answers, but they were not really what I expected.

First of all, don't be surprised if you find a tombstone in a weird place in Seattle.  I guess it's pretty common, a little like finding a pot in Greece (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency anyone?).

Secondly, if you find a tombstone on your property, it belongs to you.  I've been going about this all wrong.  I should be trying to find who owns the property.  Then, ask them if I can have their tombstone.  Take the tombstone, haul it back to Comet Lodge, leave it there.  Easy peasy.

And yes, it's still there.  I keep driving by and staring at it.

On a slightly less morbid note: the next chapter of The Bond is up on Wattpad!

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