My dad used to say that the man who never turned down overtime at the steel mill was working toward being the richest man in the graveyard. It would take a lot more than steelworkers’ overtime pay to be the richest man in Baltimore’s Green Mount Cemetery.
William Henry Reinhardt’s memorial is a cast of his work Endymion, a beautiful shepherd boy who was granted immortality–and eternal sleep. How generous is that?
I’ve seen memorial benches, but this guy’s family upped the bar and erected a table?
Nothing says “beloved” like a coffin-under-glass.
Family scripts just don’t seem cozy…
