Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

You can barely make out the human machinery in this huge quarry

Day Three: Mountain Memorials (Monday, Sept. 22)

My dad and I toured the Rock of Ages quarry outside Barre. There, they quarry gray granite. You pay a small fee and take a yellow school bus up to a lookout, from where you can view the men at work.

On the way up the mountainside, the tour guide told us that the huge granite piles in the Barre area are of "waste" granite once considered unusable because of flaws. Modern technology allows them to use even the smallest pieces, which can be crushed and made into roads. But she told us they won't be touching the old waste piles, because of all the homes that could potentially be harmed in the process.

At the top of the mountain, we walked over to a lookout. From behind a chain link fence, we could look down into a pit that was once a mountain but hasn't been since at least 1955. That's when they began the quarry in that area. According to the tour guide, you could fit the entire Washington Monument inside the pit. Not only that, but based on the current rate of mining, they have enough granite left in this spot to last another 4,500 years.

The men at work looked so tiny compared to the granite wall where they were working, which is part of a vein that runs miles deep. Of course, the current equipment can only plunge to a depth of 500 feet, so when they hit the depth they can handle, they move the cranes back on the cliff edge.

The tour guide told us she's followed the progress of these workers for the past three years, telling their story. She is, in effect, their Greek chorus.

After the tour, we returned to the visitors' center and gift shop, where we watched a short movie about the process that turns the harvested granite into the famous memorials by Rock of Ages. Most of our fellow tourists were elderly couples, which seemed a little odd until I realized that the school year has begun and few families would be sightseeing on a Monday.

Just down the road, we took a self-guided tour of the plant where they carve the memorials. From a walkway above the shop floor, we could look down and watch the workers at their craft.

One looked up and smiled at me when I snapped a picture.

Most of the stones are etched, but a few are carved, and we saw a sculptor working from several photographs of a woman. He had them taped to a board in front of him as he carved. The sculpture on the stone was rough but taking shape, assuming her form.

We drove, then, to Hope Cemetery to view the fantastic handiwork on the memorials. According to the Rock of Ages information, some of the stoneworkers over the years carved their own intricate stones, while others were done by request, sometimes in the shapes of unusual objects such as planes, cars, cats and soccer balls. Not to mention lovingly crafted Art Deco stones or ornate flights of viney fancy.

Occasionally, I'd have Dad stand next to a grave marker for size perspective when I took a photo. He didn't smile; he didn't think it was appropriate.

We ate lunch, the two of us, at a place called Soup and Greens in Barre. My brother and his wife were at work that day. The salad bar was not only a bargain but also delicious. It even had shrimp on it. And pudding.

After lunch, we visited the Vermont Historical Society building in Barre, discovering that it only houses a library which wasn't open on Mondays. Nonetheless, I photographed the Robert Burns memorial out front.

In the evening, my brother and his wife returned from work and we all watched several episodes of Spongebob Squarepants. My brother is a huge fan and can imitate Spongebob's laugh with uncanny precision. He can also do Popeye, which he did once when somebody told him he looked like Robin Williams. Another time, he was mistaken in a bar for Bono. The drunken reveler would not be dissuaded and actually bought my brother a drink.

My dog, Una, has been having a bit of a rough time so far. When we first arrived, she got a pink belly and I thought it was from allergies. It turned out that it was at least partially because she'd picked up fleas. It appears that her three-month flea and tick collar, which had expired just before our vacation, really was expired.

So I bought her some flea medicine and some anti-itch lotion. It seemed to do the trick.

Una also got into a fight with Pulsar at the quarry yesterday. It seems that Pulsar, emerging from the water after swimming, was annoyed at her chicken-hearted progeny. She tried to play, but Una immediately lay down on her back and showed her belly. Pulsar started nipping her for being so chicken, and Una actually fought back.

Since then, Pulsar seems to be giving her renewed respect. They wake up in the mornings and run throughout the house, playing and waking us up.

Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson

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