San Pedro
Cemetery Project 

The Baby Who Began a New Cemetery

Carlos Albinito was born on February 1, 1934 to Jose Albino Rael and Maria Andrellita M. Rael. At the time of his birth, his four year old brother Clarence,  who had been looking forward to the new baby’s birth was the most excited of all and could barely contain his joy. Nora, another of the baby’s siblings was only seven years old and for her, she imagined another real baby doll to help with. Eliby and Honorio were the older brothers and at 10 and 15 respectively, they were too busy helping their father in his Rael Sala to pay too much attention to the sounds of a new baby in the house, but secretly they couldn’t wait to meet their new little brother. 

The baby’s father, Jose Albino was quietly filled with joy, as he always was at the birth of his children, though at the age of 47, he knew that this was going to be the last of his children. Andrellita, who was 44 at the time, knew more than all that there could be complications and the moment the baby emerged into the world, she knew this joy also carried a shadow. For days after his birth, she did what she could to push the shadow away, drawing her strength especially from the other spirits around her, but the shadow grew heavier every day. On March 4th this young spirit breathed his last breath. The anguish that was felt by both Jose Albino and Maria Andrellita was as palpable then as the joy had been the month before. 

Knowing that the village needed another cemetery, Jose Albino had recently donated land on the crest of the hill to serve as this purpose. Little did he imagine that the first to be buried in this now sacred ground would be his own child. He only took comfort in knowing that this little spirt would have a view of the house and the village he would have called home. 

Today this cemetery is known as el Camposanto de San Pedro and the grave of this spirt who barely lived a month in the world can be found in the precise northwest corner of the cemeterIes. It is a camposanto that has since this death gathered the souls of many Questeños,

Today, though I had no flowers, I did what I had done with my grandmother every year that I was with her, I pulled the weeds away, pulled the rocks into a bed and dusted away the stone that sat at the top of the uncle I only knew as the child whose birth and death began one of three of Questa’s cemeteries.I am resolved next time I visit to place his name on the marker and to place into his bed something special.