I love going for walks in cemeteries. And have all my life. For some that makes me creepy. To sister and brother taphophiles, a walk through a cemetery is as normal as a walk around the neighborhood. The residents of this graveyard community have stories to tell. And mysteries to share – the mystery that surrounds the dash between their birth year and their death year. Who were they in life? What were their hopes and dreams? What adventures did they have? What tragic circumstances surrounded those that died prematurely? Sometimes those puzzles are resolved by considering the tombstones that share a last name and death date. A mother who died in childbirth? Possibly – especially during the early centuries of our country. The epidemics that swept through communities besieged by poor water supplies and lack of nutritious food? Some ambiguities will never be unraveled.