6000 Santa Monica Blvd., Los Angeles, Ca. – http://hollywoodforevercemetery

I like cemeteries. Morbid? I think not. I’m an art nut, so the best bone yards are essentially amazing sculpture gardens. I spent countless hours wandering around Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn and I made the pilgrimage to see Jim Morrison at Pére Lachaise in Paris. So, when I heard that Chris Cornell resides at Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Los Angeles, well, how could I resist.

Located right on Santa Monica Blvd. in Hollywood, it’s easy to access and it’s one of the few places in L.A. that has free parking. The grounds are beautiful. For one, it’s like palm tree heaven and I like palm trees. The first thing I noticed that set HFC apart from any other final resting place that I’ve visited was that most of the tombstones had the actual picture of the resident embossed right onto the stone. Some basically color photos, embedded in the stone under a glassy layer, others engraved in black, like a wood-cut print. It’s a beautiful place, with crypts and mausoleums, a fountain-adorned lake and towering monoliths, erected for a soul so as not to be forgotten.

I wandered aimlessly for a while, admiring the views. Stopping by several interesting sites, there was an enormous crypt, a beautiful, young woman’s face looking at me. She died at 36. I wondered what happened to her? So young. Something about seeing the faces makes it even more sad and tragic. I saw a grave stone covered with bronze dachshunds, 5 or 6 of them, frolicking all about. I imagined a flamboyant studio exec, wearing a velvet robe walking around his Beverly Hills pool, followed by the dogs that he preferred so much to all the Hollywood players that he dealt with daily.

It was a gorgeous day (go figure) with blue skies and high 60’s. I didn’t have a grave site map, so I opened Google maps and don’t ya know, it actually had a feature that guided me to specific graves. I found Chris Cornell and even came across Johnny Ramone on the way, they were neighbors. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t a coincidence. I mulled around a bit, took some pics and kept noticing people gathering around a grave with a prominent bust rising out of the stone on the other side of the lake. I made my way over and found the attraction. There he was, the former king of Hollywood, Burt Reynolds, looking out over the lake, surrounded forever, no-doubt many of his friends and lovers.

I looked into his eyes for a while and tried to imagine the life he led, the things he did, the things he saw, then I heard a voice, It was Burt and I thought I heard him say, “Be careful in this town kid, you could end up here, before your time, like so many of the others.” I pictured him sweeping his arm across the grounds, indicating all the too-young souls that ended up here after a fast life… partying on the Sunset Strip and up in the glamorous houses in the Hollywood Hills. I shuddered and started walking back to my car, it was almost 11am. I need a drink. What does Burt know, he lived to be 82!