Trinity Square

They thought we wanted churches
but all we wanted was somewhere to meet,
our own pew, somewhere to sit off the doorstep
out of the stench of Brown Friargate,
the opportunity to wear a new hat and shoes
and keep the husband out of the pub for an hour or two.

There was a temporary peace
much like the click of knitting needles
and how we needed something
to while away the hours whilst we grew old.

All we wanted was a patch of land.
All we got was a family grave.

Even that was taken away
when they tore down the church,
dismantled the crypt, dug up the tombstones
and our trembling remains,
clattering teeth mee-mawing,
unable to remonstrate.

They concreted our patch,
painted white lines,
signposted cars between,
coins sliding into their coffers
to feed their horrible echoing greed.

Between the lines we, something, remain,
resistant as unpassing time, persistent as the rain.

Holy Trinity Church Gates III - Copy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trinity Square Car Park

 

Holy Trinity Church Gates - Copy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Holy Trinity Church and its graveyard stood on the site of present day Trinity Sqaure Car Park between the years of 1814 and 1951. All that remains are a set of gates leading down to Trinity Place. Photographs of what it looked like prior to demolition can be found on Preston Digital Archive.

There are many places in Preston where churches have been knocked down, along with their graveyards and the bodies buried there have been moved and reinterred to make way for carparks. I was quite shocked when I heard about this. I’d always assumed once I got buried or cremated my remains would stay where I wished them to. This wasn’t the case for these people.

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2 thoughts on “Trinity Square

  1. This left me with tears in my eyes. You have captured here the challenge of change and the disregard in general for the notion of sacred space and the sacrality of certain places.

  2. Just waking up and reading this. Your line “All we wanted was a patch of land.
    All we got was a family grave.” pretty much blew me away with a poignant melancholy. Here in the US in the cities, like the close by burg, there were waves of old abandoned churches moving their graveyards for other buildings in the mid to late 1800s and then again to make parking lots in the 1950s and 1960s. The old Hbg cemetery which i love has lots of rows of mass re-burials of the Revolutionary and Civil War dead with just what headstones survived in tightly packed lines. One PA blogger at http://thecemeterytraveler.blogspot.com/?wref=bif documents the plight to rescue and restore these old weed and garbage choked urban and rural cemeteries. Well i guess, unlike the dead, i will rise and shine…..

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