While in Lowell, Massachusetts, visiting the Lowell Mills, we made a detour for the sole purpose of visiting the grave of Jack Kerouac. In the interest of full disclosure, I have only ever read some bits and pieces – some of On the Road and a few poems – by Jack Kerouac – Travels with Charley – and they don’t register as particularly memorable or moving for me. For more devoted fans, I’m sure that visiting the grave is more exciting than I found it. What did strike me about Kerouac’s grave were the grave offerings – alcohol, cigarettes, and flowers. Not being a regular cemetery visitor, I hadn’t been exposed to this kind of cemetery tourism or homage to the dead. I have since learned, of course, that taking alcohol to a grave is a tradition in multiple places. (Some day, I will get to Edgar Allen Poe’s grave.)
My photograph of Kerouac’s grave marker is lost to time, but it’s not hard to find. A photo of it can be found on find-a-grave.
A Grave Concern 