The Catholic Sun :: Phoenix Diocesan Newspaper

Armed with sunglasses, nametags and cameras, 200 tourists approach four charter buses parked next to a car rental lot at the J. W. Marriott Desert Ridge Resort and Spa.

“I don’t have a car, so it’s one of the few opportunities to see what’s out there,” one rider says to his seatmate shortly after he boards Sept. 19.

“It looks like we have to do work on this tour. It looks like a book,” another rider jokes, referring to the white binder the tour guide just gave him.

No one could seem to get work off of their mind. Conversations immediately start up with the person next to them and across the aisles about where they were going and how they thought it would compare to where they work. Some take a moment to study the color-copied map at the front of the binder that labels each stop.

Shortly after 8 a.m., Bill Mayberry, the tour guide on the first bus, finishes his final headcount — just under the 56 capacity — Erv, the driver, makes his way out of the parking lot. The conversations halt as Mayberry gives a brief overview of all three stops.

“We’re just going to take a rolling tour through Holy Redeemer,” Mayberry says over the intercom of the first cemetery stop. In the 10-to-15-minute ride, the riders — all who work with Catholic cemeteries throughout the U.S., Canada and Australia — are already talking, looking out of the windows on both sides and pointing.

The conversation halts again once Erv enters the cemetery gates. Mayberry describes its unique features.

“All the plants in this cemetery must be of a desert variety,” he says because the 37-acre property lies within a desert preserve. The grounds must also be cleaned monthly as opposed to every three months in other diocesan cemeteries.

He points to the outdoor mausoleum and mentions a forthcoming area for Eastern rite Catholics.

“See that cross? Ain’t it pretty?” Mayberry quips as several heads turn. “That’s a cell phone tower.”

One rider is quick to ask if the company pays rent. It does, Mayberry says.

By 8:30 a.m., the tour bus begins its longest leg of the six-hour trip: 30-35 minutes. The conversations continue and only lighten when Mayberry calls attention to sights along eastbound 101 into Scottsdale.

One rider takes a moment to review pictures in his digital camera. By 9 a.m. Erv is on eastbound 60 and exits the freeway within five minutes to enter Queen of Heaven Cemetery and Mortuary in Mesa.

“We’re going to be meeting in the chapel just straight ahead,” repeats Harry Anstram, director of funeral services with each small group that makes their way into the mortuary.

They’re also greeted by a colored wood-carved image of St. Joseph on his deathbed hanging on an island wall. It made an appropriate welcoming.

St. Joseph is the patron saint of a happy death and the group members help families deal with the transition from death into eternal life.

Many pause at the doorway to take photos. The large stained-glass window behind the altar of Madonna and Child fascinates them.

“The eyes have a calming effect,” says Paul Pickel, its designer, from the chapel’s entryway.

Group members quickly fill the pews and line the chapel wall where they waited to learn about the new mortuary, one of four Catholic ones in the country.

“When we opened from scratch, we had a customer waiting,” Anstram tells the group during a formal presentation. “Today we’ve served almost 50 families.”

The facility opened in July.

Before he speaks, Gary Brown, executive director of cemeteries for the diocese, tells the tourists about some of the artwork that surrounds them, including the images many had already photographed and the wooden chair that sat behind the altar.

Brown says it once belonged to a bishop in Italy and the cemetery found it on the Internet.

Pat Goodman, the cemetery manager then welcomes the group in English and Irish and describes other features on the cemetery’s grounds. She mentions the new St. Timothy Mausoleum, which opened last month, and the Holy Family statue, which has a memorial to the unborn at its base.

Then the group has roughly half an hour to explore the 10,000-square-foot facility. Many compare what they see to the cemeteries in their diocese.

One of the group members complements the casket display area. In a space no larger than an office cubicle, Queen of Heaven Cemetery is able to show a foot or two of 14 caskets that jut out from the wall.

“That’s cherry wood. That’s one of my favorites,” says Gary Weber, a sales rep for Aurora Casket Company, of one of the caskets closest to him.

Other group members pull out a drawer that lets them see and touch what the material within caskets looks like.

They pour over the headstone and urn models in another area after passing the meeting rooms where families gather to plan for the burial or cremation of a loved one.

“You don’t have to be Catholic to be buried here,” Mayberry later tells the group on his bus. “You do have to be a Christian. On that stone, there’s going to be a cross.”

At no point did any of the group members show any sign of sadness or grief that typically accompanies dealing with death.

“You can’t get caught up in the grief with the family,” says Mayberry, a family service counselor. “You are here to serve.”

Group members peer into the somewhat darkened mortuary where bodies are prepared for burial. Then they walk across the property and through the breezy, but relatively empty St. Timothy Garden Mausoleum, which opened last month, before returning to the bus.

The bus arrives at St. Francis cemetery — the diocese’s oldest — by 11 a.m. Most group members freely explore both levels of the mausoleum, but some stay with their tour guide, who points out several pieces of art including the “Empty Tomb and Resurrection” of Christ bronze relief.

“This is the prettiest one,” Mark Christian says in the upstairs courtyard. He’s from a Delaware diocese and likes the use of natural light and water.

As the group members re-board the bus on their way to the cemetery’s administrative offices and then lunch, a few notice a man with flowers in the cemetery lawn. The man finds the headstone he was looking for, genuflects, kneels and fully prostrates himself. He repeats similar motions at another site a few rows back, where he leaves a flower.

Even though the group members are on tour and many have their cameras with them, no one takes a picture. To them, helping families lay their loves ones to rest is all in a day’s work.