Spring arrived in Delaware coaxing daffodils and crocuses to bloom in the ancient cemetery outside Holy Trinity Episcopal Church. Sun warmed my bare arms, and a light breeze rearranged my hair as we ambled among the crumbling tombstones towards the large stone church.
Colonial settlers may have built earlier churches, but those buildings fell down or out of use. Hal and I missed the 300th Anniversary Celebration at Old Swedes Church. This original stone structure, cemented together with crushed oyster shells mixed into the mortar, sprang to life in 1698. The pattern of small stones, hand-carried by women parishioners, added strength and sparkle to the walls. The pattern reminded me of ships or rafts in a fast-moving river.
Graffiti artists began working on the edifice in 1711 making it their own.

Some things never change.
Calligraphers etched their marks in the door as well as the stone walls for over one hundred years.
I couldn’t substantiate this 1697 piece of church gossip, on the internet, so it must be true. In a church bustling with young life, when the new twenty-nine year old single pastor, Erik Bjork, arrived from Sweden, he began a building program. Of course, he needed his own parking space. We entered the church through what had been his reserved “barn door.” He drove his carriage inside the barn door entrance to the church.
According to our guide, his ride attracted the most eligible bachelorette in the congregation. Other carriages drove under the front overhang, dropped off the riders, and drove on through. Bjork stayed with his Christina congregation for seventeen years before returning to Sweden.
Inside the church, nearly one hundred years passed before artisans added stained glass windows. This one attracts interest because young Jesus appears to carry a cross. We approached the window so we could see the measuring marks along the t-square Jesus must have used as a carpenter’s apprentice.
As we moved through the church, the guide fed us more facts that I could digest. He and Hal discussed the abundance of eagles adorning Episcopal pulpits.
“An ornamental eagle sales agent must have passed through all the New England churches in the early 1800s,” Hal suggested.
We stayed over twice as long as the 30 minutes needed to tour the church recommended by the Triple A Tour Book for Delaware and New Jersey. We enjoyed many personalized stories we couldn’t read online. We finished by meandering through the graveyard photographing crumbling tombstones of individuals who made history in early Delaware. We wondered what made some famous, earning them shiny big headstones, and others remained obscure. More questions drove us home to research in silence.

M.B. may have been the first person buried here, but no one knows anything about him or her.
“Thanks to you, I learned a lot.” Hal told me at 9:30 in the evening. Then he punched me in the ego. “See what I found out about the new National Park in New Castle,” he said as he handed me a new printout.
Maybe “ornamental eagle sales person” should be my next new job, although it could be a tad stressful if sales weren’t going well. Imagine lugging all those eagles around.
Lovely photos, especially the one of the cemetery.
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What a funny thought! Eagles to go. Open your bag, and deliver them, one by one! 🙂
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That was very entertaining. It also appeals to my hunting dog tendencies – I am insanely addicted to my family genealogy finds.
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My family is Hal, and my brother. If I go back on home, there’s still not much more than that. Someone traced mom’s father’s lineage back to the 1640s, and that same stranger/6th cousin found Hal, my mother’s first cousin, for me two years ago.
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What an amazing place. Must have been fantastic to go to.
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I think of you as I shoot pictures of buildings and places like this. I told Hal all about you and how much I’ve learned from you!
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