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Commentary By Matthew Hennessey

Kitty Genovese Rests in Peace: Her Connecticut Gravestone, Unkempt

Cities, Culture New York City, Culture & Society

With her murderer’s death in prison, the truth about her own death understood and no significant anniversaries left to commemorate, it’s tempting to think that Kitty Genovese will finally be able to rest in peace. Actually, she’s been at peace for some time.

“It’s almost as if Kitty had discovered a good hiding place, and didn’t want to be found.”

I know, because she’s buried across the street from my house.

Kitty was 18 in 1954 when her parents relocated from Brooklyn to Connecticut. Ironically, the move was made out of concern for safety. Kitty’s mother had witnessed a shooting and decided that it would be safer for the family in suburban Fairfield County. Kitty, the oldest of five, stayed behind.

After her murder, the family buried her in Lakeview Cemetery, not far from their modest New Canaan home. I moved my own family from the city to New Canaan in 2010. We, too, moved into small house on a quiet street. We live now on the northernmost border of Lakeview Cemetery.

Lakeview is a serene place. Its gently sloping hills resolve into shimmering ponds that are regularly visited by a revolving cast of migratory birds. My kids once helped to safety hatchling turtles trying to cross the main road.

Shortly after we started visiting Lakeview, I looked online to see if there were any notable people buried there. New Canaan is a well-to-do town, so it wasn’t surprising to learn that Lakeview’s permanent residents include once boldface names such as Lapham and Auchincloss.

When I told my wife that Kitty Genovese was buried there, she said without hesitation, “I’ve seen the stone.” The next day, she pointed it out.

An overgrown bush nearly concealed the footstone engraved with her full name, Catherine Susan Genovese, and the years of her life, 1935-1964. The setting was peaceful, which I found pleasing. It seemed right that Kitty should have now — and forever — what she was brutally denied in life.

My warm feelings were tempered by the gravesite’s appearance. It didn’t seem to have been well maintained or frequently visited. There were weeds, but also the detritus of landscaping — shredded sticks and grass that I had to wipe aside in order to read the inscription.

It’s almost as if Kitty had discovered a good hiding place, and didn’t want to be found.

Read the entire piece here at New York Daily News

This piece originally appeared in New York Daily News