Belinda's Story

The sun tried to peek through the storm clouds in the early November sky. It even shined through the cool drizzle most of the morning, until booms of thunder and bolts of lightening sent the sun hiding and the rain soaked everything it saw.
It nearly never rains in southern California. But November 1 2008 was no ordinary day. This day, "Dia De Los Muertos," or "LA Day of the Dead," as they say it in Hollywood, is a big event at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Once a year, friends, family and other curious celebrants gather to honor the spirits of souls who've moved past this earth. On this day, hanging with the headstones and statues, elaborate annual altars visit town for one day only. Many believe that Day of the Dead lets the departed visit with the living for awhile.

Wherever they are now, on this day keepsakes, heirlooms and mementos, glowing candles and marigolds bring the dead back to brilliant three-dimensional life. Down the paved path, left at the first curve a harp flocked with faux butterflies sat atop a black velvet three-tiered backdrop, layered with a few of her favorite things. Her paintings, her baby pix and her grown-up glamour shots. And there was that hot Halloween outfit she never got to wear. Marigold paths dotted each side of the altar, and off to the left, written in the fresh orange flowers a single word: LOVE. Passersby paused and gazed at the girl in the photos, who gazed back with doe-shaped brown eyes. "She was beautiful," a man said. He wondered, who was she? She was the kind of girl that would have smiled at the irony of the brief thunderstorm that swept through the sunny city's parade.

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