These Exhaulted Acres: Unlocking the Secrets of Albany Rural Cemetery by Paul GrondahlThe Times Unions most honored writer and leading photojournalist take you inside the leafy confines of the hallowed ground where many secrets of Albanys long history remain all but hidden. What emerges from this book--the cemeterys story, 50 select biographies, maps, historical images and remarkable photography--is a fascinating perspective on two centuries of life in a great American city.
ALBANY RURAL CEMETERY[SAID TO BE HAUNTED]
Welcome to Albany Rural Cemetery
Photo added by Teena Mayham Schroeder. As church burial grounds in Albany filled, a city cemetery was opened in the s and another was established in , with many of those previously interred at the old cemetery moved to the new site. However, because of flooding problems there, Albany Rural Cemetery was created on April 2, and bodies were moved again from the cemetery to be reinterred at the present site. Albany Rural Cemetery now is a acre National Historic Landmark site with many beautiful and unique gravestones as well as famous people. GPS Coordinates: Drag images here or select from your computer. Oops, we were unable to send the email.
Albany Rural Cemetery established on April 2, Originally starting at acres in size, today it stands at acres. There are some , persons interred here. Records published here were acquired from Albany Rural Cemetery's computer database. Note that there are still some 40, records not included here due to the cemetery not having researched and indexed all burials, as well as there are thousands of interred whose locations are not known.
The Albany Rural Cemetery was established October 7, , in Colonie, New York, United States, just outside the city of Albany, New York. It is renowned as.
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This eight-foot-tall bronze angel graces the burial site of department store owner John Myers and his wife, Mary. The monument is easily viewed from the Cypress Fountain. The monument is easily viewed from the. Dead leaves crackled underfoot as Michael and Lynn Radlick jogged through Albany Rural Cemetery in the half-light of an October morning, their before-work ritual for the past 20 years. A gauzy dawn slowly illuminated stark gray granite obelisks and ornate white marble monuments that seemed to hover above wreaths of mist and fog in hollows and swales. It was a dreamlike scene, unmoored from time and space.