One such intriguing spot in Morganton is Broughton Hospital - originally, the State Hospital in Morganton - a state psychiatric hospital serving the Western half of North Carolina - and more specifically, its cemetery. One bit of trivia about Broughton for which I probably harbor some special affinity: its first patient was a physician, Dr. Red Pepper. I do not believe he is buried here, however.
The cemetery is located just off Enola Road uphill from the 'big barn' next to a main thru-fare which connects Broughton to the Burke County Sheriffs Department Detention Facility. I have passed this place hundreds of times, but, today, I actually did the unthinkable - I explored it. In case you wonder, it is open to the public. While it is certainly tempting to let the words 'state mental hospital' and 'detention facility' dissuade you from visiting this unique location - to overlook this unique place - would be a mistake!
Just across the thru-way road from the cemetery is a small parking area for a State educational building. The cemetery is set apart by a metal fence with bricked columns, and beautiful angels adorn the columns on either side of the entry gate.
Near the entry are several large and very stately oaks with immense bases. In the absence of rows of headstones or flowers which would normally draw your eyes, you will instead notice long rows of chain link dangling low between small concrete columns. There are a few headstones - placed by family members - scattered across this field. But, more often, there are small circular brass plaques which dangle from the chain links. The brass plaques are well worn, but, many still reveal the initials of the individual buried beneath - as well as their medical record number from the Hospital.
Several years ago - due to the efforts of the Hospital Chaplain, Phillip King, and an Eagle Scout project, metal markers were placed in the ground beneath the brass plaques with the individual's name, birth, and death dates.
Regrettably, some of the chains have apparently broken, so there are some concrete posts where the chain has been wrapped around the post to prevent the brass rings from being lost. It is an eerie reminder of how these men, women, and even children are still joined together in so many unique ways in this place.
It is a bit daunting to consider the fact that there are about 1500 men, women, children, and even some stillborn children buried here. The first person to be buried here was a woman in May, 1883. The most recent burial occurred in 2012 - the first such burial since 1997. The general practice of burials here ended in 1953 with the exception of these last two cases. Dr. Suzannah McCuen, a psychiatrist who works at the Hospital, has done a tremendous job of documenting the identities of those buried here and has painstakingly documented her work on findagrave.com. Her work is fascinating. One such effort was identifying the 29 Confederate veterans buried in the cemetery. Their histories are well worth reading.
I happened to visit the cemetery on an unique day. It was a cold day - barely in the low 30's - with a strong blustery wind from the north - dreary to say the least. As I was about to leave, however, I noted three men who walked out into the field. It just so happened that I knew one of the men, one of our town's funeral home directors, so I asked him a little about the cemetery. Turns out, he explained that they were there on that bitterly cold Saturday afternoon to deliver and place a memorial stone which a woman from out of town had asked to be placed at her grandmother's gravesite. A few years ago, he noted, there was some interest in the cemetery due to an article in the Charlotte paper, so several people had actually located their family members' graves and had markers erected. He had actually participated in disinterring one such individual in order that they be reburied with their family in another town.
The marker placed today by these gentlemen was placed in honor of a woman who died in 1933. There was an article about the cemetery in the Morganton paper a few years ago entitled, "Gone But Shouldn't Be Forgotten." Today, eighty-one years later, on a windy cold dreary Saturday, she was not forgotten.
