Are you a taphophile? That’s a person with a fascination for cemeteries. If so, then you might have something in common with queer writer Kim Roberts Meikle, author of “The District’s Departed: A Guidebook to DC Cemeteries” (Rivanna Books, 2026).
Known by many as an award-winning poet, the Washington DC-based Meikle has spent a number of years chronicling her city via poetry anthologies that she’s edited, including “By Broad Potomac’s Shore: Great Poems from the Early Days of Our Nation’s Capital” and “Full Moon On K Street: Poems About Washington DC.” She has also celebrated the capital city in non-fiction books such as “A Literary Guide to Washington, DC: Walking in the Footsteps of American Writers from Francis Scott Key to Zora Neale Hurston” and “Lip Smack: A History of Spoken Word Poetry in DC.”
We spoke with Meikle shortly after her latest book hit the shelves.
Gregg Shapiro: We met as undergrads at Emerson College in Boston, a city full of cemeteries. I was fond of Copp’s Hill in my North End neighborhood. Do you have a favorite Boston cemetery?
Kim Roberts Meikle: Oh, I love Copp’s Hill! I would pick Mount Auburn Cemetery as my favorite. It opened in Cambridge in 1831 and was a brand-new type of burial ground. Instead of the severe rows of churchyard cemeteries, it was a garden cemetery, with winding carriage roads, lakes, trees, and scenic vistas. Garden cemeteries were designed to be sentimental and soothing, promoting a romantic ideal of death as part of a natural process that offered eternal rest. Visitors could go there for inspiration and moral uplift, taking in a range of monuments and memorials, from mausoleums to obelisks to tombs with ornate carvings, many designed to invoke moral or patriotic lessons.
GS: Do you remember the first time you visited a cemetery, and was it personal (loss of family or friend) or as a tourist?
KRM: I can’t recall my first time [laughs]! It would have been as a tourist though. I think my interest really bloomed in Boston. My friend Leonard and I would often drive out of Boston on his motorcycle on weekends. We’d pick a different small town to visit each time and stop at the real estate office or town hall to ask for directions to the oldest cemetery in that town. I loved some of the little churchyard cemeteries. We also found some nearly-abandoned family plots with leaning stones and those strict, engraved bits of verse. “Remember me as you pass by/As you are now so once was I/As I am now, you soon shall be/Prepare for God and follow me.”
GS: Did your interest in DC cemeteries begin with a particular cemetery?
KRM: While I was researching Henry Adams for my first guidebook, “A Literary Guide to Washington, DC,” I became a little obsessed with his and his wife’s grave in Rock Creek Cemetery. Known as “Grief” (although that nickname came much later), it’s one of the most significant pieces of funerary art ever produced in the US. Clover Adams committed suicide, which was considered so shameful that many cemeteries, especially religious ones, would not have allowed her to be buried on their consecrated land. Henry Adams knew that a standard sentimental grave marker would not have been appropriate, so he asked his friends — who happened to be some of the foremost visual artists and architects in the nation — to come up with something entirely new. My first walking tour was of Rock Creek Cemetery — so I could show off the Adams Memorial to others. Some of Clover’s “neighbors” in that cemetery have amazing funerary art as well. So that was the start.
GS: Described as a “guidebook,” “The District’s Departed,” like your 2018 book “A Literary Guide to Washington DC,” shares a similar size which works well for fitting in a pocket or bag for walking tour purposes. Were you involved in making that design decision for the book?
KRM: The credit goes to the design department at the University of Virginia Press! They guided me through the process beautifully—from helping me limit the length of each tour to determining the final layout and design. The beautiful maps were designed by Nat Case of INCase Design. I took the photographs.
GS: In “The District’s Departed” you quote some of the verse that you saw on headstones. Did you include the poetry because it spoke to you as a poet?
KRM: Absolutely. Small poems have been included on US headstones from the start — they are part of a western European tradition that came to us with colonial settlement. A lot of my love of cemeteries comes directly out of a love of that religious and sentimental verse. And I also looked specifically for the graves of authors I love! But I am also drawn to funerary art, and the rich traditions of visual symbolism. Draped urns represent grief, broken columns or tree stumps sculpted of stone represent a life cut short, anchors recall the shape of crosses, lambs are symbols of innocence and were often favored for children’s graves. There’s a whole language of these images: hands pointing to heaven, parting curtains that represented the entrance to heaven, flowers that were associated with mourning. I’m a sucker for that combination of the visual with the poetry.
GS: You wrote about the community of dogs and their humans who congregate at Congressional Cemetery. Do you ever accompany friends with dogs when they go there?
KRM: It’s been a long while since I have, but yes. I do have friends who are members of that amazing program. At Congressional [Cemetery], dog owners can purchase an annual membership in exchange for the privilege of walking their dogs on the property — but members pledge volunteer hours as well. It’s a really innovative way to provide income and keep community members attached to that historic place.
GS: “The District’s Departed” also includes numerous graves of queer people, including Gore Vidal, Alain Locke, Peter Doyle, Leonard Matlovich, Frank Kameny, Barbara Gittings, Kay Lahusen, J Edgar Hoover, and Clyde Tolson. As a member of the LGBTQ community, can you say something about what it meant to you to include those details in the book?
KRM: Congressional Cemetery is the only burial ground in the US that has a dedicated area for queer ancestors. That makes it very special indeed. It all started with Leonard Matlovich. Matlovich was a Purple Heart and Bronze Star recipient who worked with Frank Kameny in 1974 to challenge the military’s long-time ban on gay service members. As a result of coming out to his commanding officer, Matlovich was ruled unfit for service, and subsequently sued for reinstatement. His challenge was widely covered in the press, and he appeared on the front page of The New York Times, on the cover of Time Magazine, and on “CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite.” He gave a humanizing face to gay rights at a time when mainstream American culture portrayed LGBTQ+ individuals as perverts and mentally unstable. After a long legal process, Matlovich accepted a financial settlement from the Air Force in 1980. He used his notoriety to advocate against LGBT discrimination, and to fight for funding for HIV/AIDS treatment and education. Matlovich died of complications from AIDS in Los Angeles one month before his 45th birthday. Although eligible for burial at Arlington National Cemetery, he wanted to create the kind of memorial that they would not allow, so he chose Congressional instead. Matlovich intended his grave to be a memorial to all gay veterans, so he did not include his name, hoping that other LGBTQ+ people would also choose sites near his. Indeed, this has come to pass! I find this extremely moving. Matlovich said in an interview that he “realized that there was no place in America for gay people to gather and remember their forebears.” His black marble stone is inscribed with the words, “A Gay Vietnam Veteran.” Beneath that, it reads, “When I was in the military/they gave me a medal for killing two men/and a discharge for loving one.”
GS: Did you know that early gay rights activist Henry Gerber, for which the Gerber/Hart Library and Archives in Chicago is named, is buried at the US Soldier’s and Airmen’s Home National Cemetery?
KRM: Yes! I have visited his grave. Gerber spent the bulk of his career in the military. The first time, from 1920-23, he served in the US Army’s occupation of Germany, where his fluency in the German language was a major asset. When he finished his service, he moved back to Chicago and founded the Society for Human Rights and published the newsletter “Friends and Freedom” — the first gay organization and the first gay publication in the US. For the last few years of his life, he lived at the Old Soldier’s Home in DC, where he died at age 80 in 1972. Although his tenure in DC was brief, it’s a shame he’s not better known and better celebrated here.
GS: “The District’s Departed” is the first book under your married name. Please say something about the significance of that.
KRM: I married late, so when I took my wife’s last name, I had already published a lot of books under my maiden name. At first my publisher tried to convince me to keep publishing under Kim Roberts — they argued that using Meikle is confusing, and it does make it harder for book sellers to connect my new books to my older ones. But I was determined, and the name change is such a source of joy for me, that I am happy to report that they quickly backed down. Thank goodness. I believe readers will be able to keep up! A lot of writers change their names — to match their changing marital status, gender, or for other reasons.
GS: Lastly, have you selected your own final resting place, and will it be within the district?
KRM: My wife and I chose Oak Hill Cemetery to buy a plot for our own cremated remains. The site in Georgetown plunges down into Rock Creek Valley, and it’s simply gorgeous. It’s a model garden cemetery: there are curving trails to walk that go up and down through the valley, and lots of fabulous crypts, obelisks, and other funerary art. It’s very Victorian.
This story is brought to you by Rosedale Health and Wellness and Dudley’s Place.
