The Park

Three maps spanning 32 years reveal more than a story of inevitable progress.

Growth itself was undeniable. In 1840, the population of Kalamazoo was 1,300. It doubled every ten years in the 1840s and 50s until there were 6,000 residents by the eve of the American Civil War. Then it doubled every 20 years until 1920.  There were about 15,000 residents in the city when it became a public park in 1885.

The year before Riverside Cemetery opened in 1862, only three houses stood near the old cemetery. North of the cemetery on West Street stood Allen Potter's unique octagon house. South of Park Street stood a symmetrical two-story house, likely Greek Revival in design. A third, L-shaped house in the 1874 map, perhaps Italianate, sat directly across West Street from the cemetery.  By the time the artists sketched the scene in 1874, a new street connected Burdick Street and Park Street with houses already filling the gap. Houses also began to appear on Wheaton Avenue and Park Streets. More additions by 1884 revealed slow but steady growth on the south side of the town.[1]

Scrubbing the landscape

Published by the same map company, these bird's eye view maps combined factual detail and artistic interpretation. The most-important change was more subtle than the encroachment of houses. The 1874 map depicted small headstones amid the oaks and the key identified this space as a cemetery. In 1883, one year after the cemetery survey, the artists neither drew headstones nor identified the space as a cemetery. The bird's eye view map depicted both a transitional present and a transitioned future.

The township plan to clean up the cemetery became more complicated between 1882 and 1885. The board gave, at best, mixed signals in their public communication. On the one hand, they announced that they had finished the survey, had removed broken marble slabs, planned to run a diagonal walkway from northwest to southeast, and pledged assistance to families in removing burials. The walkway would cross headstones, unless the plan was to bury the markers or make a serpentine path. The board hinted at both options. The board encouraged family members to replace or add marble headstones. The board seemed to move in two directions at the same time.[2]

When surveyors took their measurements, they found more than burials. The cemetery lot in 1882 was smaller than it had been in 1833. "Newell's Addition" extended 16 ½ feet too far west along the entire north-south axis of the cemetery. "The land as stated is now occupied by Chas. Forbes and J. T. Newell," the Kalamazoo Gazette reported. One house, owned by Charles Forbes, became the first of five buildings along the eastern edge of the old cemetery. While it is unclear whether houses ever encroached into the historic cemetery, the 2.29-acre park remains smaller than the original three acres. Newell’s addition, and the lots that still occupy it, may account for some of that loss.[3]

The future predicted in the 1883 bird's eye view map became clear in the spring and summer of 1884. The Village of Kalamazoo became the City of Kalamazoo in 1884. In the process, the city took control over the unfinished project on West Street. In one of the common council's first meetings, the council decided to return the headstones. Joseph O. Seely, who lived a half block away from the cemetery on Axtell Street, petitioned the city's common council to change the name of "the old cemetery," as he called it, to "South Park." The committee on parks and public grounds recommended the change to the common council, "provided such change would not invalidate the city's title." The common council sent the question back to the committee to study the legal ramifications. That August, Alderman George C. Winslow reported that the committee on parks and public grounds recommended leveling the lot and adding a sidewalk along West Street. [4]

The council approved Seely's petition in spirit if not in name. By April 1885, the annual city report described the changes:

"The Old West Street Cemetery has been graded and ready for seeding. The superfluous trees have been removed and those remaining trimmed up. The unsightly old gravestones had been sunk in the ground, the place of each marked and recorded in the cemetery record. The West Street sidewalk being decayed was taken up, the soil used for grading, and the space filled with gravely ready for a permanent walk. The entire amount expended was $289.89. We would recommend the grounds be seeded down, a row of shade trees be set out on the south and west sides and a stone or cement walk be laid on West Street."[5]

More changes came in the late 1880s. These included adding soil to raise the level of the grade, the addition of benches, lighting, and water—including a fountain. By the end of the decade, the old cemetery had become a public park by all appearances surrounded by a beautiful new neighborhood.[6]

Burying the headstones did not settle the question of to what extent, if any, Kalamazoo should recognize the cemetery layer. That muted struggle continued for generations.

Defending the city's actions in court

Lawyers for the City of Kalamazoo soon had to defend the change to the landscape in court. R. Carlisle Burdick, the son of Cyren and Mary Ann Burdick, had not lived in Kalamazoo since the 1850s. When he returned to visit his widowed mother in the 1870s, he found the cemetery had become "sort of a park," and this upset his mother because it violated the condition she had placed on the original transfer of land. "I mean to say that it was not kept up in shape as a cemetery should be kept up," he remembered in February 1896, "and the fence in certain places was broke down, and it was sort of generally—well, you might say almost like a common; anything or anybody could go in there." The last time he visited in 1885 or 1886 the headstones had been removed. Burdick's attorneys argued that his parents sold the land to local officials at a discount for cemetery use. Turning the cemetery into a park amounted to abandonment. [7]

The judge ruled against Burdick. There had been no restrictive covenant in the original deed. "Looking at the whole scope of the deed," Judge J. Clark ruled, "I am satisfied that upon proper interpretation it conveys the fee and that the grant is absolute and that the estate conveyed is not one determinable upon a condition subsequent." His decision on the first question made the one about abandonment irrelevant; however, the judge chose to answer the question anyway. Clark interpreted a difference between "abandonment of the property and a cessation of its use as a burying-ground." Clark reasoned that cessation occurred when cemetery became full and township officials had forbade further burials.[8]

While Clark would not condone the actions of the city, he felt obliged to keep the courts out of it. He acknowledged rumors that a voting booth had been built in the park. Residents had complained that this "unsightly ornament" stood there weeks after the election of 1892.  "If the city should undertake to use and maintain a burying-ground as a park in a way not consistent with the property's use as a burying-ground, or in a way disrespectful to the dead or shocking to the moral sentiments of their surviving families and relatives," Clark concluded, "it would hardly admit of question that a court of equity could prevent this, and by proper process so regulate the use of the land as to make that use entirely consistent with the purpose of the original deed and the trust imposed thereby upon the city as the successor in title of the original donee or trustee in the conveyance."[9]

Willful forgetting

As the lawsuit unfolded, Kalamazoo residents debated the merits of placing a monument in the park. This may have appealed to some residents for moral reasons. For others, or as an added benefit, it might signal to the courts that the city and its residents still treated the place with the somberness of a cemetery.[10]

Lucius West, a patent attorney living on West Street across from the park, offered candid opposition to a monument. "The proposed placing of a monument in south West street park of this city is not approved by the citizens living there," he declared. "They do not want any reminder staring them in the face that the park is the resting place of the dead. While they know that such is the fact, they are striving to forget it as fast as possible, and do not want it to be learned by any one who does not already know it." West argued that the changes to the landscape had been part of the city's efforts to draw residents into the new additions. "At least that has been the effect," he reasoned. "The citizens there have spent money in lots and fine buildings, brought the sewer, the electric cars and the pavement into that locality, with a view of having a desirable place to live, but many would not have spent a nickel, or a moment of time, for the sake of locating by the side of tombstones." He acknowledged that houses on the west and north side of the cemetery went right up to the property line. [11]

Residents prickled any mention of the space's history and a monument to the cemetery would only haunt the living. "A few years ago printed notices were attached to some of the trees to the effect that a fine would be imposed for mutilation of the trees 'in this cemetery,'" West recalled. "Even this was too much for the residents there at that time, and the words 'this cemetery' were changed to 'these grounds,' and said notices as amended are there today." West concluded that "it is bad enough to dream of ghosts congregating around your home during sleeping hours," and erecting a monument would be tantamount in the daytime to placing a ghost in view of every passerby.[12]

The city placed no reminder of the early settlers and, thus, no ghost to haunt residents. The space became thickly settled in the coming decade. By 1900, houses began to crowd in along the north and east boundaries. By 1930, all the gaps had been filled by new construction.[13]

The politics of respectability

The park's unique history contributed to public discourse about respectable uses of the public space. If city residents differed on the proposed monument, they also disagreed about whether political or religious services should be held there. Many residents looked askance upon the placement of a voting booth on the premises in the 1890s. It did not matter. In 1900, the Third Ward Republicans held outdoor meetings during the warm months. In 1895, the Gazette criticized residents who let their animals graze in the park. "There are some people who live in the south part of the city," the Gazette scolded, "who should be informed that the south west street park was not intended for a pasture." Gospel groups and churches held meetings, picnics, and services in the park. When residents complained that the park was not "a place for religious meetings," other residents signed a petition to secure permission to do so. In 1902, teachers and students from the school on Lovell Street celebrated the end of the academic year with games and a picnic in the park.[14]

The non-binary nature of the park-and-cemetery public space came in handy for those wanting to exert greater social control. In 1905, Mayor James Osborn used the park's history as a justification for policing its edges. In his telling, the city's defense in the lawsuit had come down to how the city continued to use the space. "Mayor Osborne explained that as the park is an old cemetery and unless protected from public travel is in danger of being lost to the city, great care should be taken to protect it from chance trespassers," the Gazette reported. "The council approved his suggestion that a fence be built along the east and north sides and all trespass upon the edges be punished." The mayor and council twisted the judge's ruling in the past to control the use of space and justify expenditures.[15]

Respectable use was an elastic concept that revealed more about social divisions than any abstract sense of what types of activities were right or wrong for the space. In September 1906, Trolley Day took place at Henderson Park and West Street Park to raise money for the city's hospital fund. The outdoor carnival boasted ice cream, a string orchestra, a phonograph, a candy wheel, "Queen Carmenita, Gypsy fortune teller," a performance of Rip Van Winkle, a "vaudeville" show, a concession stand, and checkers. "The street cars of the city were leased for the day for the sum of $300, and all fares above that go to the fund," the Gazette reported. "The candy and cigar sales, the popcorn privileges, the Gypsy stand at West street park and the baseball game and the shows finished up the fund." Event organizers needed 6,000 trolley riders to break even. In the summers of 1914 and 1922, hundreds of residents attended an open-air concert performed by the Kalamazoo Concert band, the Kalamazoo Symphony orchestra, and Crocato's orchestra. In 1919, the War Camp Community Service hosted a picnic supper for neighborhood girls followed by "volleyball, patch ball and similar outdoor games."[16]

Selective memory as social control

Concern about respectable use often punctuated these activities. The same summer neighborhood girls played volleyball in the park, the Gazette chastised the "Kiddies Playground" in ways the newspaper had not for the hospital fundraiser or outdoor concerts. "How many people know that the pretty open space at West Street and Park Place, which is known as South West Street park, is not a park at all but a cemetery?" the Gazette asked. "Yet, such is the case, and the sod that makes a playground for the kiddies of the neighborhood covers many graves of persons long since forgotten and the only record of [those] burial places is a little map filed, no one knows where, in the city hall." The newspaper retold in considerable detail, perhaps for the first time since the lawsuit, a history of the park.[17]

This telling leaned on self-serving narrative. The old cemetery had been desecrated by "thoughtless boys" in the last century, so the city had closed it off until it became overgrown in weeds and vines. Then the vast majority of burials had been removed to other cemeteries. "Yet a few remained," the writer admitted, "and their places were marked by the gravestones being placed on edge and sunk beneath the surface of the earth." Here the writer settled on the sad conclusion about children playing and lovers meeting on the park benches. The narrative history served both as a symbol of the city's benevolent "beautification" projects and the newer generation's folly of turning the park into "a pleasure spot instead of one of sorrow." Over the next several years, the Gazette chastised people for "taking midnight baths in the drinking fountain" and kissing on the benches. Into the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, residents regularly called the police on children playing games in the park.[18]

Remembering once again

The placement of a historical marker in the park signaled more than just 80 words of pride in local history or one of the first local uses of the term, "Pioneer Cemetery." It also marked a shift away from the Lucius West's belief in the 1890s that residents wanted to forget the earlier layers of this historic site. This started a generation earlier. By the 1920s, the Gazette had started reminding readers about the park's history. This served, in part, as social control. It also reflected a new desire amid the sesquicentennial of American independence and the passing of the generation who remembered the cemetery: 

"As the West street burying ground fell into disuse it also became neglected. A rank growth of weeds and brush sprang up. Boys of the neighborhood used the place as a playground, and found hiding places in their games among the old graves. It was said, too, that ghosts appeared there nightly, so that pedestrians who were compelled to pass the burying ground after dark hurried along in fear, believing that some white robed spirit might accost them."

The narrative placed blame on children and nature while absolving voters and elected officials. This absolution went further by insisting that very few bodies remained about became part of the dominant memory of the space that went unchallenged until Robert Brewer's study in the 1980s. New calls for a monument in the 1930s culminated in a historical marker dedicated in 1960 and the first publication in Michigan Heritage on the multi-layered history of the cemetery and the park. Those who residents had wanted to forget in 1900 had become celebrated as pioneers two generations later. [19]

[1]. Map of Kalamazoo Co., Michigan (Philadelphia: Geil & Harley, 1861), Library of Congress; Kalamazoo, Michigan, 1874 (Madison, Wisc.: J. J. Stoner, 1874), Library of Congress; Bird’s Eye View of Kalamazoo, Mich., 1883 (Madison, Wisc.: J. J. Stoner, 1883), Library of Congress. 

[2]. “West Street Cemetery,” Kalamazoo Gazette, June 28, 1882; "West Street Cemetery," Kalamazoo Gazette, April 6, 1883; Kalamazoo Gazette, May 10, 1884.

[3]. Kalamazoo Gazette, December 8, 1882; Liber B, pg. 5-6, Kalamazoo County Register of Deeds, Kalamazoo County Administrative Building; Kalamazoo County Parcel Viewer, Parcel Number 06-22-300-001, acreage 2.29, https://www.kalcounty.com/planning/gis.htm/

[4]. Kalamazoo Gazette, June 3, 1884, June 6, 1884, June 13, 1884, August 8, 1884.

[5]. Alexis A. Praus, The Southwest Street Cemetery of Kalamazoo, no date, 35, reprinted from Michigan Heritage 1, no. 2 (winter 1959), Local History Room, Kalamazoo Public Library; Kalamazoo Gazette, July 7, 11, 1885.

[6]. Praus, The Southwest Street Cemetery of Kalamazoo, no date, 35, Local History Room, Kalamazoo Public Library.

[7]. “May have to Pay for It,” Kalamazoo Gazette, May 16, 1899; “The Burying Ground Park,” Kalamazoo Gazette, May 17, 1889; “South Side Park,” Kalamazoo Gazette, March 27, 1896; “The Cemetery Park Case,” Kalamazoo Gazette, January 5, 1898; Burdick v. City of Kalamazoo, National Archives and Records Administration, Chicago.

 [8]. Burdick v. City of Kalamazoo, National Archives and Records Administration, Chicago; “Interesting Opinion Regarding the West Street Park Case,” Kalamazoo Gazette, November 15, 1898.

 [9]. “Additional Local,” Kalamazoo Gazette, November 20, 1892; Burdick v. City of Kalamazoo, National Archives and Records Administration, Chicago; “Interesting Opinion Regarding the West Street Park Case,” Kalamazoo Gazette, November 15, 1898.

 [10]. Kalamazoo Gazette, May 30,1899

 11. “Paid $53,000 of the Debt,” Kalamazoo Gazette, March 28, 1899; “Voice of the People,” Kalamazoo Gazette, March 17, 1899; F.A. Corey’s Annual Directory of Kalamazoo City (Kalamazoo, Mich.: Kalamazoo Directory Co., 1899), 458.

[12]. “Voice of the People,” Kalamazoo Gazette, March 17, 1899;

[13]. Sanborn Fire Insurance Map, Kalamazoo, Michigan, 1906, sheet 62 and 63; Sanborn Fire Insurance Map, Kalamazoo, Michigan, 1932, sheet 211 and 213.

[14].  “Interesting Opinion Regarding the West Street Park Case,” Kalamazoo Gazette, November 15, 1898; “Additional Local,” Kalamazoo Gazette, November 20, 1892; Kalamazoo Gazette, May 21, 1899; Kalamazoo Gazette, June 20, 1899; Kalamazoo Gazette, June 22,1899; “Ward Meeting Postponed,” Kalamazoo Gazette, September 12, 1900; “Jottings,” Kalamazoo Gazette, June 28, 1895; “Closing of School: How it will be observed by the Pupils,” Kalamazoo Gazette, June 11, 1902; “Jottings,” Kalamazoo Gazette, August 8, 1908; “E. E. Union to Start Outdoor Meetings,” Kalamazoo Gazette, July 20, 1919

[15]. “Act of God or Plot of G.O.P.,” Kalamazoo Gazette, April 5, 1905

[16]. “Looks Big for Trolley Day,” Kalamazoo Gazette, September 25, 1906; “All Ride out Trolley Day: Kalamazoo Helps the Sweet Conductors for Charity,” Kalamazoo Gazette, September 26, 1906; “Band concerts  for West Side Assured,” Kalamazoo Gazette, May 3, 1914; “Concern Band Big Hit in Fine Program,” Kalamazoo Gazette, May 21, 1914; “Bronson to Direct Band in South West Street Park Concert Friday,” Kalamazoo Gazette, June 11, 1914; “Big Pep Meeting for Vine Street Girls,” Kalamazoo Gazette, June 5, 1919; “Vine St. Neighborhood Girls,” Kalamazoo Gazette, June 8, 1919

[17]. “Kiddies Playground Blanket for Pioneer Dead of Kazoo,” Kalamazoo Gazette, August 31, 1919

[18]. “Kiddies Playground Blanket for Pioneer Dead of Kazoo,” Kalamazoo Gazette, August 31, 1919; “Headin’ Off Trouble,” Kalamazoo Gazette, July 10, 1922; “This will Help,” Kalamazoo Gazette, February 22, 1922, April 24, 1922; “Jottings,” Kalamazoo Gazette, September 21, 1935; Kalamazoo Gazette, June 8, 1942; Kalamazoo Gazette, May 3, 1953.

[19]. “Kiddies Playground Blanket for Pioneer Dead of Kazoo,” Kalamazoo Gazette, August 31, 1919; “Westnedge Park once Last Resting Place of Pioneers,” Kalamazoo Gazette, July 1, 1923; “Only Two of 27 Comprising First Hollard Colony Here Still Life,” Kalamazoo Gazette, September 28, 1930; - “Gazette’s Historical Scrapbook: Monument in West Street Park Would Be City’s Tribute to Its Known and Unknown Dead,” Kalamazoo Gazette, November 20, 1937; Larry Pratt, “South Westnedge Park Still Holds Graves of Pioneers,” Kalamazoo Gazette, August 16, 1959; “Dedicate Plaque at Cemetery,” Kalamazoo Gazette, May 20, 1960; Alexis A. Praus, Michigan Heritage 1, no. 2 (Winter 1959): 33-43.